Sebastian brought his hands to Aneesa’s jaw, his thumbs brushing her cheeks back and forth.

She was barely breathing now, hypnotised by the blue glitter of his eyes, by the heady sense of expectation in the air, by his intensely masculine scent.

He reached for her and captured her easily, spanning two hands around her slim waist, bare under the drape of the sari, her skin satin soft. Never before had he been so achingly aware of the delicious anticipation of kissing a woman for the first time.

His mouth was so close now … Aneesa could feel her eyes flutter closed, the intensity of feelings within her almost unbearable. And then their breaths mingled, his firm mouth touched hers and she was lost in a heady world of sensation that obliterated all the pain and turmoil as effectively as if she’d just lost her memory.

In a heartbeat the kiss became something much more primal and urgent. Sebastian struggled to hold back and soon they were hurtling towards the brink, faster than anything he’d experienced before.

As he stood on the precipice of making a momentous decision—for there was no way he was letting Aneesa leave him now—he felt acutely vulnerable. For the first time someone stood before him and didn’t see the infamous Sebastian Wolfe of the scandalous Wolfe family. Nor the multimillionaire. She didn’t know his history, she had no expectation of him.

BAD BLOOD

A powerful dynasty, where secrets and scandal never sleep!

THE DYNASTY

Eight siblings, blessed with wealth, but denied the

one thing they wanted—a father’s love.

A family destroyed by one man’s thirst for power.

THE SECRETS

Haunted by their past and driven to succeed, the

Wolfes scattered to the far corners of the globe.

But secrets never sleep and scandal

is starting to stir …

THE POWER

Now the Wolfe brothers are back, stronger than

ever, but hiding hearts as hard as granite.

It’s said that even the blackest of souls can

be healed by the purest of love…

But can the dynasty rise again?

About the Author

ABBY GREEN got hooked on Mills & Boon® romances while still in her teens, when she stumbled across one belonging to her grandmother, in the west of Ireland. After many years of reading them voraciously, she sat down one day and gave it a go herself. Happily, after a few failed attempts, Mills & Boon bought her first manuscript.

Abby works freelance in the film and TV industry, but thankfully the 4am starts and the stresses of dealing with recalcitrant actors are becoming more and more infrequent, leaving her more time to write!

She loves to hear from readers, and you can contact her through her website at www.abby-green.com. She lives and works in Dublin.

ABBY GREEN

BAD BLOOD

RESTLESS BILLIONAIRE

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This is for my fellow ‘Bad Blood’ contributors—

Sarah, Janette, Caitlin, Lynn, Robyn, Jennie and

Kate—thanks for all your help and

encouragement along the way!

CHAPTER ONE

ANEESA ADANI was stuck in a waking nightmare. She battled a surge of panic as her younger sister and aunts led her forward towards the place where her fiancé waited to make her his wife.

The elaborate wedding sari she wore constricted her movements, adding to the sense of cloying claustrophobia. Heavy jewels literally dripped from her head, ears, throat, arms and hands, weighing her down.

Fighting an overwhelming urge to break free and escape she told herself once again that she only had herself to blame for her predicament. If she hadn’t been so blinkered, so unforgivably naïve … so impossibly complacent, then she might not be here right now.

She was propelled forward again and suddenly her fiancé and her parents saw her arrival. A hush descended over the crowd in the huge and beautiful inner courtyard, lit with the seductive glow of hundreds of lanterns. This courtyard was the centrepiece in one of the most exclusive hotels in Mumbai—the jewel in the hotel’s crown. The sheer opulence of it all terrified her now, the reality of what she was doing hitting her anew.

With an awful sick feeling of impending doom and fatality Aneesa reluctantly moved forward, but just then a small movement caught her eye from the side. She glanced around and, for a moment, was blinded by the icy blue gaze of a man. He was slightly obscured, in the shadows, but even that couldn’t hide the fact that he was so tall and good-looking he momentarily distracted her from her surroundings.

As she registered the darkly handsome foreigner who had no doubt snuck in to ogle the most prestigious wedding of the year, reality slammed back into her again, heightened now by seeing him—as if he represented some kind of escape or freedom to her. And she knew in that moment that she hadn’t been able to disguise the fear or turmoil in her eyes. He’d seen it all and she could only be thankful that he was a complete stranger. Tearing her eyes away, she mentally steeled herself and walked forward to meet her fate ….

Sebastian Wolfe still reeled slightly from the searing glance he’d shared with the bride as she’d arrived. She’d looked around only briefly and yet had honed in on his gaze as if she’d felt the weight of it.

He shrugged off the prickling sensation. He had to admit that he didn’t think he’d ever seen a more beautiful bride. He smiled cynically—not that he ever had any intention of watching one walk down an aisle towards him. Coming from a large family of mainly half-siblings, having been born to a man who’d married three times, had numerous affairs and begat eight children, to say that Sebastian had a jaundiced view of the holy sanctity of marriage was a huge understatement.

With an iron will, he concentrated once more on his surroundings and not the potential minefield of his family, who had dispersed from their ancestral home, Wolfe Manor, as soon as they’d been able to escape.

In the huge and ornately decorated inner courtyard a stunning marquee covered in silken swathes of material took up the centre space under a dusky evening sky. The bride, while being of average height, stood with a regal and graceful bearing that made her appear taller.

Her face was a smooth mask of intent concentration, and given the elaborate ritual of the traditional Indian wedding, he couldn’t blame her. It seemed to him to consist of a dizzying array of minutely observed events, each as important as the last and all following a strict code. It had been going on for days now, culminating in this ceremony here tonight. Incense was burning, ladening the warm air around him with a rich and luxuriant smell.

A short while before, Sebastian had watched the arrival of the groom carried aloft on a gold chair, where, bedecked in a long tunic of spun silken gold and close-fitting matching trousers, he’d been greeted by his in-laws, his face obscured by a curtain of fresh marigold flowers.

And then the bride had been brought in, her slender arms encased in silver, red and gold bangles, led by attendant women. Sebastian had seen the intricate henna tattoo that adorned her hands up as far as her lower arms. In her glittering red-and-gold sari and elaborate headdress and with a pearl-and-diamond jewel nestling at the centre of her forehead, she’d looked like an Indian princess from the Mogul Empire.

The memory of the look they’d shared hit him again with a jolt of sensation in his solar plexus. It was bizarre, but he thought he’d seen something close to panic and desperation in her huge brown, heavily kohled eyes.

He frowned; he must have been mistaken, because now, as he watched the bride and groom place garlands over each other’s heads, she looked nothing but serene. And yet, had he just seen her delicate hands shaking? Sebastian mentally chastised himself—what did he care for the emotional state of a complete stranger on her wedding day? All he cared about was that everything went smoothly and they had no cause to fault their venue.

This hotel was just one in his hugely successful chain of hotels around the world. The uberluxurious Mumbai Grand Wolfe Hotel. And he was here merely on a whirlwind tour to oversee the society wedding of the year: Aneesa Adani to Jamal Kapoor Khan, two of Bollywood’s hottest stars.

From the report his Indian PA had given him about the wedding, he knew that Aneesa Adani had been crowned Miss India some years before and following a successful modelling career she’d branched into Bollywood movies and had since become their biggest star, with a veritable list of number-one movies to her credit. The subsequent romance and wedding with fellow Bollywood star Jamal Kapoor Khan was going to make them the power couple of Indian cinema for years to come. They were at the very epicentre of mass adulation, which in a country of more than a billion people was no small feat.

Sebastian cast a quick look around, noting to his satisfaction the heavily armed security guards and plain-clothed police officers, amongst his own highly trained security team. Nothing had been left to chance and he was quietly confident of the strict security measures and discretion he could guarantee in all of his hotels. It was one of the reasons his hotel had been picked as the venue of choice for this wedding as well as for its ultralavish yet understated stylish surroundings.

From where he stood he could see the rising moon shining over the Arabian Sea and the floodlit outline of the Gateway of India, Mumbai’s most iconic landmark.

Sebastian waited for the usual sense of satisfaction to steal over him when he experienced a moment like this—the rare chance to stand back and survey his hard work. A moment when he lifted his head long enough to acknowledge the fruits of his success. But it didn’t come. And it was only then that he realised that he hadn’t felt it in some time.

Unused to and slightly disturbed by that thought and the impulse to self-examine which he didn’t usually indulge in, he looked once again to the centre of the marquee where the bride and groom now sat side by side on regal thrones on a raised dais.

The bride’s exquisite face was still a cool mask of serenity but Sebastian felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck as if he could somehow sense that it was just a façade.

And then he felt a pull of something much more earthy in his groin. Encased in the elaborate wedding costume he could only see snatches of her pale olive skin, an enticing view of the bare curve of her waist and top of her hip below the tight bodice. He could imagine the silky texture of that skin, that it would feel as soft as a fresh rose petal.

To his utter chagrin and disgust, Sebastian realised that he was ogling a bride in the midst of her wedding ceremony and that merely looking at her was arousing him to a level that he hadn’t felt since his last liaison had ended some weeks previously. He realised, too, that on some very base level he felt jealous of the groom, that he would be the one to uncover the lush secrets of his new wife’s exotic beauty.

Sebastian cursed himself. He’d no doubt that Aneesa Adani was like every other girl of her upper-middle-class upbringing. A little princess. Her marriage to this man was merely the next step in a life of luxury and inherent idleness, despite her career as an actress. And he’d no doubt, too, that she would be no blushing virgin on her wedding night. Despite the chaste lovemaking of the Bollywood movies, in the real world the stars were just as amoral and prone to bed-hopping as in Hollywood, and she’d had a highly publicised relationship with this man for months.

Despite those assertions, turning away took more effort than he liked to acknowledge and he saw one of his close aides waiting patiently in the wings for his next move. Sebastian welcomed the distraction and thrust aside disturbing thoughts of flashing kohled eyes that had emitted what must have been an imaginary beacon of distress, and equally disturbing erotic images of sensual half-hidden curves.

He walked out of the courtyard, leaving the wedding behind, and smiled grimly. His mind had been playing tricks on him, perhaps the ritual and incense had gotten to him for a moment. Striding across the main reception area which was a glorious fusion of classic Moorish and Portuguese design, he coolly ignored the admiring looks his tall and powerful frame drew. The attention of women was something that Sebastian and his brothers had never had to worry about. They’d effortlessly drawn it as soon as they’d been old enough to know what that attention meant.

Minutes later, after consulting with his hotel manager, he stepped into his private lift and felt the habitual constriction of being in a suit, and the familiar need to engage in something physical which would clear and quieten his mind. Exercise for Sebastian was a drug, an outlet he’d turned to for as long as he could remember. It had helped him escape the chaos of his dysfunctional upbringing and now helped him escape the rigid confines on his time. It also eased the niggling sense of dissatisfaction he increasingly felt, and helped him through the frequent nights where he was lucky to get three hours sleep, the curse of the chronic insomniac.

Sebastian didn’t register the impassive lines of his hard-boned face in the mirrored elevator door; he’d long ago learnt the art of projecting a controlled front, even while inwardly he might be a mass of contradictions. But his thoughts helplessly veered back to the couple downstairs. He had no doubt that in time reality would strike and the sham that all marriages inevitably were would become apparent in theirs. And in a country which held one of the lowest divorce rates in the world he could almost feel a twinge of sympathy for the happy couple, for it was unlikely they’d be allowed to escape the confines of their union, especially if they had children.

He chastised himself mockingly—who was he to rain on their parade or judge them? His mouth tightened with grim black humour—after all, hadn’t he himself come from a far from normal family upbringing?

On that thought the elevator doors opened and Sebastian walked into the penthouse Grand Wolfe suite, the best in the hotel. As he started to rip off his tie and jacket he mentally wished the couple downstairs all the best in the world and firmly pushed the image of the luscious bride from his mind. They were welcome to each other and a lifetime of wedded disharmony.

Aneesa was barely aware of the wedding ritual going on around her. She felt numb from the inside out and she knew on some level that this feeling was a form of self-protection, albeit dangerously flimsy.

Her head ached as it had done ever since her comfortable, privileged and secure world had been blown to smithereens just two evenings previously. She’d gone to Jamal’s rooms at the hotel to surprise him, hoping that she might encourage him to take their chaste lovemaking to the next level.

The thought of being a virgin on her wedding night had inexplicably filled Aneesa with fear; perhaps even then she’d been aware that what she and Jamal shared wasn’t normal and had wanted to provoke him in some way. She’d never understood his reticence in the physical side of their relationship.

But instead of finding him quietly reading his new script, which is what he’d told her he’d be doing, she’d found him in bed. With his assistant. His male assistant.

Aneesa knew she still hadn’t fully assimilated the shock of that moment. She’d stumbled to the bathroom and had been violently ill. By then Jamal’s lover had disappeared and Jamal had calmed down enough to go into damage limitation mode.

She could remember his smoothly handsome face, a mask of condescending pity, as he’d asked her how she hadn’t already known about this when all their friends knew. And Aneesa had almost been sick again when she’d recalled the snide looks she’d often dismissed as petty jealousy from their circle of friends. She’d also had to acknowledge uncomfortably that of her so-called friends who even now thronged the courtyard of this exclusive hotel, there hadn’t been one she’d felt she could confide in.

It had been a harsh pill to swallow to acknowledge how shallow her life had become, and how easily she’d left good friends behind once she’d become more and more famous.

In the space of that one evening, her whole life had undergone a subtle but seismic shift. And in the couple of days since, Aneesa had changed from being a relatively spoilt young woman, who’d pretty much taken everything around her for granted, into someone more mature and less naïve. The urge to find comfort in blame had been futile, for she knew she was as much to blame for the situation she now found herself in, as painful as it was to acknowledge that.

Jamal’s curt warning from that evening still rang in her ears and it had fatally inhibited her impulse to ask for help or advice: ‘If you think for a second that you can walk away from this marriage you can kiss your career goodbye for ever. Who would want to marry you after such a scandal? Because you can be sure of one thing, if you walk away and try to save face by telling people the truth, I will deny it and fight you every step of the way. This marriage is my ticket to respectability for ever. Our children will make everyone believe that we have the perfect marriage. And who would even believe you over me? Their beloved Jamal Kapoor Khan?’

Aneesa had known he was right. If she even attempted to reveal the truth she’d be crucified by his millions of devoted fans. As famous as she was, he was a far bigger star. She’d be a pariah and would never make another movie in India. Apart from all of that, she was the first in her family to get married. Her beloved paternal grandmother was nearing ninety and maintaining that she was clinging onto dear life just long enough to see Aneesa wed.

Aneesa also knew that while the public perception of her family was that they had untold wealth, in fact, her father had been struggling to keep the family silk business afloat for some time now. Only she and her mother knew the reality, which was that this wedding was all but crippling her father financially.

And yet, Aneesa also knew that her father would prefer to face financial ruin than the ignomy of not being able to pay for his first daughter’s marriage. He was so proud that he hadn’t even let Aneesa help financially. While her pay packet was nothing like her Hollywood counterparts, by Indian standards she was a wealthy woman in her own right.

And how could she have told her parents about Jamal’s secret? They were conservative and solidly middle class. Respectability was their middle name; they would be devastated. The pressure in her head and behind her eyes suddenly increased now in an intense physical pain.

She could feel the weight of Jamal’s gaze from her left and could barely bring herself to turn to him, anticipating all too well the false adoration that would be written all over his handsome features. It was a look that he’d perfected over many years in films. A look that she’d fallen for herself when they’d met on her first film, and a look that she’d fooled herself into believing was sincere.

No wonder he’d wooed her so easily, she recognised now with acrid bitterness. He’d seen her coming from a mile away: sheltered, spoilt, immature and unbelievably naïve. And she’d fallen for his act, hook, line and sinker—seduced by his smooth good looks and even smoother talking. Not to mention his intense attention and adulation of her. He’d appealed to all the worst parts of her and she’d live with the shame of that for the rest of her life.

Her train of thought and self-disgust was cut short abruptly when the priest officiating indicated for them to stand. They were approaching the most sacred part of the ceremony, after which Aneesa knew her chances of escape would be all but gone for ever.

The ends of her sari and Jamal’s long jacket were tied together and they were about to walk around the sacred fire seven times, while seven blessings were said, each one for different aspects of their marriage. As they started to walk slowly around the fire, Aneesa felt again the rising tide of panic. The numbness was leaving her now and in its place she began to shake and tremble in reaction to what she was doing.

Any girlish dreams she’d had of falling in love and marrying had long since been turned to dust. Her eyes were wide open now and with each step she took with Jamal around this fire, she was hurtling further into a future with no escape and certain pain and suffering. How could she possibly bring children into a marriage like that? When their father would be sleeping with their mother purely to procreate and maintain a façade?

In that second Aneesa recalled the piercing blue eyes of the man she’d seen in the shadows and suddenly an impulse stronger than anything she’d ever felt rushed through her. In the midst of the shock and panic she acted with an economy and sureness of movement that surprised her. She stopped and bent and swiftly undid the knot that tied her sari to Jamal’s coat. She barely heard his indrawn breath and his hissed, ‘Aneesa … what do you think you are doing?’

Then she stepped off the dais. Heart thumping she went straight to her open-mouthed father and took his hand in hers. She was aware that everyone was frozen in shock and surprise and knew dimly that she had to take advantage of that. She brought her father’s hand to her mouth and pressed a kiss against it and said with a hoarse voice, her eyes filling with tears, ‘I’m so sorry, Papa, I can’t do this. I’ll pay you back. Please forgive me.’

And she fled.

Aneesa was barely aware of where she’d run, she knew only that she wouldn’t have long to capitalise on the shock of the wedding crowd before her father sent people to find her. She couldn’t bear to think of her parents’ confusion and dismay either, or else she’d falter altogether. And she couldn’t turn back now.

She stopped for a moment, her heart hammering in her chest. She’d come up several flights of service stairs and now saw what looked like a staff elevator. All Aneesa hoped for was that it would take her somewhere far away from that courtyard and somewhere quiet, where she could assess the situation she now found herself in. She longed for fresh air, and her clothes felt more constrictive than ever.

The elevator slid silently upwards, and then came to a smooth halt. The doors opened with a muted whoosh and she found herself in what looked like a utility room. Albeit a very plush utility room.

She approached the one door and opened it with her heart in her mouth. Peering out she could see that she was in a suite of rooms that went on and on. All was quiet and still. No one was here. She automatically assumed that she’d found one of the empty suites in this massive hotel. Heaving a huge sigh of relief, she emerged more fully and walked into a darkened kitchen. She could see a huge formal dining room and, through that, wall-to-wall sliding glass doors which led to an open terrace and balcony outside. She could see the skyline of Mumbai laid out like a glittering carpet. This was no ordinary suite, this was the penthouse!

When she thought of her own honeymoon suite with its king-size bed covered in rose petals she felt clammy and sweaty all over again. Almost tripping in her long sari she made for the glass doors, struggling to open them and get out to the fresh air.

Finally they slid back and Aneesa stumbled out, gasping now. She ripped the heavy garland of flowers from around her neck and let it fall to the ground. She was vaguely aware of a dim light coming from nearby but barely registered it. When she reached the wall she tipped her head back and breathed deep, the chaotic sounds of the crazy Mumbai traffic drifting up from far, far below. Her heart finally started to slow down. So when she heard a deep drawling voice say, ‘Please don’t tell me you’re thinking of jumping …’ Aneesa screamed.

CHAPTER TWO

ANEESA whirled around so fast her head spun and she gripped the wall behind her with both hands. And then she saw him in the dim light. She recognised him instantly by his intense piercing blue eyes, like chips of ice. It was the man from the shadows she’d seen downstairs. And now she also registered what she’d missed entirely in her distraught state: a state-of-the-art terrace pool, lit from underwater.

The man’s arms were resting nonchalantly on the side of the pool, and crossed, as if he was quite used to hysterical women in full bridal regalia bursting onto his private terrace.

His hair was slicked back against a well-shaped skull and in the shadows the lines of his face were stark, his jaw hard. He arched one ebony-black brow and once again Aneesa had the gut-clenching realisation of how extraordinarily handsome he was. It was a physical sensation she’d never experienced with Jamal, even though she’d believed herself to be in love with him. The realisation sent shock through her system.

‘Shouldn’t you be kissing your groom about now?’

His laconically spoken words and their accompanying picture sent a wave of nausea through Aneesa. Barely thinking, she said numbly, ‘All Jamal will be concerned about is his precious reputation.’

Hearing her own voice loud in the silence made shock grip her anew. She had to leave. Get away from here, but just as she started to move she realised that her legs had turned to jelly. To her utter horror and chagrin, she folded to the ground from the waist down like a rag doll, the previous minutes’ events crippling her.

So quickly, that she didn’t have time to register, the man had hauled himself out of the pool and was crouched beside Aneesa, water sluicing off his taut body. Big hands came under her arms and suddenly he was lifting her up as if she weighed no more than a doll.

Amidst the shock of reality hitting her, and his proximity, a torrent of words clamoured to get out. ‘I’m so … sorry … had no idea anyone was here. I ran … had to get away. I’ll go … leave you alone … shouldn’t be here …’

Aneesa was aware that her teeth were chattering and that the man was effortlessly supporting her as he led her back through the doors and into a luxurious living room, switching on low lights as he went. His arm around her was like a steel support, and the wet body she could feel through her sari felt like a warm wall of hard muscle.

He brought her over to a sumptuous couch and sat her down with a gentleness that belied his obvious strength. When she was seated he crouched down and looked up into her face. However handsome she’d thought him before, up close he was quite simply breathtaking.

Even though his hair was wet, she could see that it was cut almost militarily short. His blue eyes were deep set, over a patrician nose which gave him a look of royalty. A thin upper lip spoke of a cool control, but his full lower lip spoke of passion and an innate sensuality, and even though he was a complete stranger Aneesa had the almost overwhelming urge to run her finger along that lower lip and see if his icy blue eyes would darken with the promise of sensual satisfaction.

Aghast at the totally uncharacteristic and wanton direction of her thoughts she recoiled back and then wished she hadn’t as it gave her a better view of his broad shoulders and tautly muscled chest, covered with a smattering of masculine hair.

Something flashed in his eyes and he drew back too, asking, ‘Will you be OK for a minute if I go and put some clothes on?’

Aneesa’s head nearly fell off she nodded it so vigorously. She couldn’t even speak and just watched with a dry mouth as he stood to his full imposing height, and strode away. Helplessly, her eyes drawn to the sheer athletic grace with which he walked. He had a broad back, which tapered down to narrow hips and then lower to where his short swim trunks hugged the globes of his muscular bottom. His skin was a burnished olive as if he spent much time outdoors, and dimly she wondered if he might be some sort of professional athlete.

With a flood of heat rising from her belly upwards Aneesa finally dragged her gaze away and groaned, bringing her hands to her face. What was wrong with her? She’d just sent her whole life into a tailspin and here she was drooling over some stranger’s half-naked body.

The only thing stopping her from getting up and running at that moment was a curious sense of lethargy and also the very real fear that she’d collapse again. Also she owed this man an explanation for bursting into his penthouse suite. She told herself she’d just wait till he came back and then apologise and leave, and hopefully by then she’d be in a fit enough state to walk out with some measure of dignity, and find some other sanctuary where she could lick her wounds.

Sebastian stepped out from under the cold spray of the quickest shower he’d ever taken and roughly ran a towel over his body. He’d had to take a cold shower because merely putting his hands under Aneesa Adani’s arms when he’d helped her inside had unleashed a flood of desire so forceful that he’d nearly lost control.

He could still feel the gentle swell of her breast against his side, the silky brush of her hair as it had swung against him and an enticing scent of exotic flowers. Her skin was as soft as he’d imagined it might be earlier.

He cursed himself as his body started to respond to the mental images again and he enforced rigid control, dragging on a pair of black trousers and a white shirt. Clearly she didn’t feel the same level of intensely immediate attraction if the way she’d recoiled just now was anything to go by. And what the hell was she doing here anyway? She should be in the midst of her wedding right now, and yet she’d looked like a car crash victim. Albeit the most beautiful car crash victim he’d ever seen.

Grimly he recognised that he obviously hadn’t misread her look earlier. Her mouth … He had to grit his jaw just thinking of how it had trembled. How she’d pressed those lips together to try and contain her emotion. And how it had made him want to reach up and pull her head down to his so that he could press his mouth against hers and see if she tasted as sweet as she looked.

He’d just finished his first punishing set of lengths when she’d burst onto the terrace and for a second he’d believed he might be hallucinating. Or going mad. He’d spoken out loud as much to dispel the image before him, but then she’d screamed and turned around, clearly stunned to find anyone there. And as soon as he’d realised that she was very real, his brain had gone into meltdown.

Chagrined to be brought to this level of lack of control, Sebastian took a deep breath and went back out to the living room.

Aneesa heard the stranger returning and stood, but almost immediately she swayed. In a second he was by her side again—and dressed, she noted with relief. He pushed her back down onto the couch gently.

His voice was grim. ‘You’re not in any state to go anywhere.’

Before Aneesa could protest he was handing her a glass which held about an inch of dark golden liquid. She looked up and said huskily, ‘I don’t drink.’

He held it out. ‘Consider it medicinal. You need something, you’re clearly in shock.’

Belatedly she noted the English intonation of his accent. With a slight tremor in her hands she took the glass, relieved that their fingers didn’t touch, and wrinkling her nose, she took a sip, wincing as the fiery liquid burnt its way down her throat. Almost immediately she could feel it settle into her stomach and a resulting warm numbing glow spread outwards.

She sensed rather than saw him move away and when she could muster the courage she looked up to see him standing a few feet away with arms crossed, leaning insouciantly against the glass doors. The white of his shirt couldn’t disguise the powerful chest underneath, or the way the muscles in his arms bunched. He watched her intently and she flushed.

She bit her lip and then said, ‘I’m very sorry for disturbing you like this. I had no right to barge in.’

He frowned then, black brows drawing together over those mesmerising eyes. ‘How did you get in?’

Aneesa faltered for a moment, much of her journey here was hazy. ‘I think through a service lift, into a utility room …’

His mouth tightened with displeasure and Aneesa read it to mean that he was angry with her. She started to apologise again. ‘I’m so sorry—really, I had no idea where I was going—’

He cut her off. ‘It’s not your fault.’

Just then a phone rang, making Aneesa flinch. Her heart started to hammer again and she looked from the phone on a nearby table to the man in horror. ‘They must be looking for me … ‘

As he pushed himself away from the glass doors he said, ‘I’ll have to answer it or they’ll send someone up.’

Aneesa stood in agitation, still gripping the glass. ‘Please, don’t tell them I’m here. Please. I’m not ready to deal with … it.’

She watched as the man picked up the phone, answering with a curt, ‘Yes,’ his eyes never leaving hers.

Aneesa could just hear an indistinctly panicked voice. They must be phoning every room in the hotel. Her heart sank. This man was a complete stranger; he had no obligation to protect her. But even as she was thinking this and fearing the worst he cut off the babble on the phone and said, ‘I’ve seen no one. Please don’t disturb me again tonight unless it’s urgent. I’m sure the manager can deal with the situation.’

And he put down the phone. His eyes hadn’t left hers for a second.

Relief washed through Aneesa, dizzying in its intensity, even as her skin tingled, as if something unspoken had just passed between them. ‘Thank … thank you so much, I know you have no obligation to help me …’

The man prowled close to her and took the glass from her white-knuckled grip, placing it down on a table. Curiously, she recognised that even though she didn’t know him, she felt safe with him. As if she could trust him. And that was a revelation when for days she’d looked at everyone around her with suddenly jaundiced eyes.

He straightened up again to his full intimidating height. ‘Perhaps we should introduce ourselves, because it looks like you won’t be going anywhere for a while. They have every guard combing the hotel for you right now. I think you must be aware that I know who you are.’

Up until recently she would have automatically expected that response, but while this man knew who she was, clearly he wasn’t in thrall and that gave Aneesa a heady feeling. New humility and untold gratitude for this sanctuary made her voice soft. ‘Yes, I’m Aneesa.’

After a long moment she put out her hand, only becoming belatedly aware of what a caricature she must look like with the henna tattoo and all the elaborate jewels, and the wedding outfit. Her hand was enveloped in his much larger one, his grip warm and strong and sending a disturbing electric tingle right to her groin. He smiled and it was lopsided, making Aneesa feel dizzy again. She feared after tonight that she’d never get her equilibrium back.

‘Sebastian … at your service it would seem.’ Sebastian had made a split-second decision not to mention his family name, feeling it hanging like a yoke around his neck, and was aware for the first time that he was in the presence of someone who didn’t appear to know who he was. The thought was curiously heady.

A thread of illicit tension snaked through Aneesa at his words. As if he might be at her service in a much more carnal way. Shocked by that thought, and suddenly overwhelmed by everything and feeling more and more ridiculous, she said shakily, ‘Would you mind if I used your bathroom?’

He stood back after a long moment, releasing her hand with deliberate slowness, and shook his head, gazing so intently at her that she felt flutters run all the way up and down her spine. No man had ever looked at her so explicitly. He gestured to the back of the penthouse. ‘By all means, it’s just through there.’

Aneesa walked away on still-wobbly legs and found the bathroom, slipping inside and closing the door. It was a relief to be away from that courtyard and the intense pressure, and a relief to be away from Sebastian’s disturbing presence. Just then she remembered how it had been the memory of his eyes that had acted as a catalyst to make her run from the ceremony.

And now she was here, in his suite. And he was protecting her from the hordes.

She shivered slightly. She was a pragmatic person, not given to flights of fancy, but it suddenly felt very serendipitous to have arrived here. Immediately that visceral physical response flooded her body in a way that had never happened before.

Even on the fateful evening she’d gone to Jamal’s room to seduce him in her impossibly naïve way, she’d felt no physical anticipation, and yet in the space of the past few minutes she’d become more aware of herself and another man than she ever had been in her whole life. It was fast eclipsing the recent disastrous events.

She pushed away from the door and went to stand in front of the mirror; a soft light had come on automatically once she’d opened the door of the bathroom. She sighed deeply. When had she become so used to, or expected, such flippant luxuries?

She looked at her heavily made-up face and urgently wanted to feel clean again. As if she could get rid of the persona of Aneesa Adani, Bollywood’s darling. She released the clip which held the jewel that sat in the centre of her forehead and laid it down carefully and with warm water in the sink she bent and splashed it over her face.

After a few minutes though, she could see that it was going to take a lot more than water to wipe it all away. A sense of futility washed through her and also pain, to know the upheaval she was undoubtedly causing within her family. Jamal she wasn’t unduly concerned about; he would survive, especially now she knew he’d only seen her as a strategic pawn.

But her parents … they had deserved better. She could picture the disappointment and humiliation on their faces right now. They loved her so much, and while she knew they were proud of her success, she knew that they’d have been equally proud if she’d become a housewife and had babies. They’d always accepted her unconditionally and this is how she repaid them …

Emotion surged; Aneesa was unable to stop gut-wrenching sobs from rising upwards. She hadn’t really lost control yet, and the pressure of keeping it together nearly floored her now. She pulled at the bangles on her arms and rings on her fingers, uncaring of the pain as she ripped them off, dropping them to the counter. With shaking hands she untied the necklace from around her neck and it, too, fell under its own heavy weight.

Sobbing now in earnest, and with a sense of inner desperation mounting and anger at herself once again for having been so stupid and selfish, she tried ineffectually to wash the henna tattoo off her arms and hands, knowing that all the scrubbing in the world wouldn’t remove it, only the passing of time.

Just then a knock came on the door, and Sebastian’s voice saying, ‘Aneesa, are you all right in there?’

She couldn’t answer; the tears were streaming down her face now, streaking it with mascara. Her chest heaved with jerky sobs and she sagged back against the sink just as Sebastian opened the door, took one look and strode in.

She held out her dripping hands stupidly and looked up at him, struggling to regain control. can’t get rid of the henna tattoo…. Do you have any idea what this means?’

Sebastian shook his head, looking grim. And gorgeous. Aneesa was aware of that even in this state.

She said brokenly, ‘It’s meant to symbolise my transition from innocence … except now I don’t even have a husband to seduce me! I’m going to be walking around with the physical mark of my shame for everyone to see for weeks!’

Sebastian just got a facecloth and wrung it out in the warm water. He came close and gently wiped at the trails of mascara running down Aneesa’s cheeks. She could feel the backs of his lower arms brush against her chest as he wiped her face, and in an instantaneous reaction, her nipples stiffened, pushing against the hard material of her bodice top. Her inner agitation died away as a wholly new tension entered her body, flooding her belly with a hot tingling awareness, a sensation of melting.

A taut stillness entered the air around them as Sebastian washed her face. He finally put the cloth down and took a towel, drying Aneesa’s hands.

Then he dropped the towel and brought his hands to Aneesa’s jaw, his thumbs brushing back and forth against her cheeks. She was barely breathing now, hypnotised by the blue glitter of his eyes, by the heady sense of expectation in the air, by his intensely masculine scent. She could see his jaw clench as if he was exerting some control and inwardly a hidden part of her trembled to think that he had to exert it because of her.

He didn’t step away; he didn’t take his hands from her jaw or face, and Aneesa felt like she was slowly being set on fire. Her gaze slipped down to his mouth and she ached to know how it would feel be to be kissed by him. She’d never been properly kissed by any man, thanks to her sheltered upbringing and then the even more sheltered world of being Jamal Kapoor Khan’s love interest, on and off the screen.

Sebastian’s virile masculinity wound around her like a spell, rendering her oblivious to everything but him and this moment in time. Making her forget everything.

He asked with a gruff voice, ‘What did you mean when you said your fiancé would only be concerned about his reputation?’

Aneesa blinked and welcomed his breaking of the seductive spell, but with that came the emotion surging again. Sebastian held her steady even when she felt one or two tears slip out, his thumbs merely catching them.

‘I couldn’t marry him. It would have been a lie. I could have done it if it was just for myself and to save my family from the shame … but he expected us to have children. And I couldn’t bear the thought of bringing a child into such a façade….’

Sebastian frowned. ‘What façade? What do you mean?’

Aneesa tried to look down but Sebastian tipped her chin back up, not letting her escape. And in all honesty there was a part of her aching to tell someone about what had happened. And who better than a practical stranger she’d never meet again?

‘Jamal is gay. His assistant has been his lover for years. Everyone knew apparently except me….’ Bitterness tinged her voice. ‘And I didn’t know because I was so wrapped up in myself, in believing that everyone loved me and that my life was all perfect. I only found out because I walked in on him and his lover a couple of days ago.

‘He wanted to marry to project an image of respectability. Homosexuality might be legal now but it’s still taboo here, especially in Bollywood. His career would be over if people found out. And I was the perfect fool for him to seduce …’

Aneesa avoided Sebastian’s eyes now, terrified she’d see his disgust and pity. But his hands just tightened on her jaw, tipping it up again so that she couldn’t avoid his gaze. There was no pity in his eyes, only an intense heat. She felt as if she were being scorched alive from the inside out and there was a curious ache in the pit of her belly, an ache she knew instinctively that only he could assuage.

Sebastian was unable to stop a visceral emotion from rising; her eyes were two huge almond-shaped pools of dark brown, long lashed and full of swirling emotions. ‘You’re so beautiful….’

The old Aneesa would have taken the compliment for granted. But now all she could think of to say was, ‘So are you.’

Sebastian let her face go but only to take her hand in his and lead her out of the bathroom.

Once in the living room again Aneesa tugged free of Sebastian’s grip. Instantly she felt bereft, but fear of the way this man was making her feel so instantly out of control made her panicky. As if she were on a runaway train going faster and faster. ‘I should really go. I can’t impose on you anymore.’

She saw something indefinable flash in his eyes but he just said laconically, ‘You’re ready to go out there and take on the fallout of the bride fleeing the most high-profile wedding of the year? The place will be swarming with press by now.’

Aneesa felt the blood drain from her face to remember what lay outside this suite and heard Sebastian curse softly. He came close again but she stopped him with a hand and then looked down as if momentarily mesmerised. She looked back up and tried to smile wryly. ‘Do you know that ever since I was a little girl I dreamt of the day I’d get married? I fantasised about the Mehendi ceremony. All of my cousins and female relations gathered to witness the drawing of the intricate henna design on my hands and feet … in preparation for my husband to discover on our wedding night.’

Her smile wobbled. ‘And yet when it came to my wedding, I insisted on a top Bollywood make-up artist and wouldn’t let my female relatives have anything to do with it. At the last minute I tried to change it, but the make-up artist kicked up such a fuss that I couldn’t….’

It suddenly hit Aneesa then, the very real probability that she would not have a second chance to have the wedding night of her childhood dreams. No chance to make reparations with her relatives and do it properly.

An awful gaping emptiness wrenched her insides, the loss of a lifelong dream profound, even as she recognised that the wedding she’d just run from had been a million miles from the dream she’d visualised as a child anyway.

She looked at Sebastian and said huskily, ‘I’ll never have that first night with my husband.’ She gestured with a hand over her whole outfit. ‘This is all … wasted.’

Sebastian’s face was implacable, stern, and Aneesa could sense in that moment that he rarely lost control. And suddenly, Aneesa felt an overwhelming urge to see him lose that control. She had no idea where it was coming from but it was rising and gathering force within her.

Without even realising what she was doing she’d moved closer to Sebastian and she saw his eyes flare, bright blue. It emboldened something deep inside her. She blurted out without thinking, ‘I wish I’d met you … I wish that my first night could have been with you.’

Aneesa knew on some dim level the enormity of what she had said, but her heart had slowed to a steady deep beat, her blood was pooling low in her belly and her gaze dropped to Sebastian’s mouth. She was simply speaking the truth and couldn’t have held it back even if she’d wanted to.

Everything within Sebastian narrowed to this moment. Arousal so fierce that it was almost painful gripped him. Did she know what she was saying? Was she a virgin? That thought should be sending him running, fast, in the opposite direction. But it wasn’t; it was having an even more incendiary effect on his blood. Aneesa was looking at his mouth, her lips parting, eyes glowing like dark jewels, and he couldn’t resist—he had to taste her, touch her. Kiss her.

Abruptly Aneesa tried to back away, the sudden dawning of realisation in her eyes, and her cheeks flushing with what had to be embarrassment. Registering her emotion made Sebastian feel inordinately protective. He reached for her and captured her easily, spanning two hands around her slim waist, bare under the drape of the sari, her skin satin soft.

Gently, yet with unmistakable remorselessness, he pulled her towards him and bent his head. Never before had he been so achingly aware of every small move, the delicious anticipation of kissing a woman for the first time.

Aneesa was powerless to resist Sebastian’s attraction. When he’d pulled her closer he had looked as if he wanted to consume her whole, and fire exploded along every vein in her body.

His mouth was so close now … Aneesa could feel her eyes flutter closed, the intensity of feelings within her almost unbearable. And then their breaths mingled, his firm mouth touched hers and she was lost in a heady world of sensation that obliterated all the pain and turmoil as effectively as if she’d just lost her memory.

The kiss started off slow and gentle, a sensual exploration that made her tremble all over. Sebastian’s hands moved up from her waist to hold her head loosely, fingers caressing her skull. She could feel her already unravelling hair coming loose.

He coaxed her lips apart and when she felt his tongue explore her open mouth to touch her tongue in an intimate caress, she gasped and fresh heat flooded into her belly, making her press her legs together when a pulse throbbed between them.

In a heartbeat the kiss became something much more primal and urgent. Sebastian struggled to hold back, but soon they were hurtling towards the brink of losing all control, faster than anything he’d experienced before.

Suddenly Aneesa wrenched her mouth away and surged back in Sebastian’s arms, cheeks high with colour. He could feel the jerky breaths making her chest rise and fall enticingly, and he knew that she had no idea how utterly sensual she was … and to think that her husband would not have appreciated this?

As he stood on the precipice of making a momentous decision—for there was no way he was letting Aneesa leave him now—he felt acutely vulnerable. For the first time someone stood before him and didn’t see the infamous Sebastian Wolfe of the scandalous Wolfe family. Nor the multimillionaire. She didn’t know his history. She had no expectation of him.

It had been a long time since anyone had shown any vulnerability in front of him. Women wanted him because he presented a pleasing physical package but more for his link to notoriety and his huge fortune.

Even his own mother hadn’t recognised him as her firstborn son since he’d been a child, due to her debilitating mental illness. She still, to this day, whenever she saw him, assumed he was her beloved Nathaniel, Sebastian’s younger and only full-blood brother. The fact that she didn’t recognise his brother either and hadn’t for years, despite her obsession with him, offered little comfort. Sebastian had ceased to exist for her long ago.

He’d seen his mother only two days before, in the UK, and even though he expected nothing less after all these years, it still hurt each time to be reminded that she’d chosen to favour another over him.

So to have this woman look at him now and really see him, and want him for just who he was as a man, as Sebastian, was heady. For a long time desire had been largely an intellectual thing for him; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d responded with such base carnality to any woman.

His hands tightened fractionally on her waist and to his intense satisfaction he saw her eyes dilate and the pulse at the base of her throat beat frantically. Her cheeks were still flushed. He had to bite back a groan of pure need. He took a breath and surprised himself by saying, ‘I don’t know you … yet I feel as if I’ve known you forever….’

Aneesa melted inside and felt a tremor run through her. She couldn’t break her gaze from his and just said huskily, ‘I know … me too. It’s … crazy.’

He lifted a hand to twine a loose tendril of long glossy hair around a finger and tugged her gently towards him. Aneesa all but fell back into his arms, and looked up, helpless to resist this vortex that was sucking them under.

His eyes were mesmerising, hypnotising. So when he said, ‘I’d like you to stay with me tonight … let me give you the experience you’ve been denied …’ her heart stopped for an infinitesimal moment.

CHAPTER THREE

ANEESA could barely breathe as it was, especially with his big hand on her waist. She’d been drenched in mortification ever since she’d so boldly all but begged him to kiss her. Even now she burned. But in truth, ever since she’d seen him in the shadows earlier, on some level she’d wished for this moment, not even knowing that she’d see him again. Not even knowing what she’d really wanted. And what she wanted now, with a fierce need, was him.

‘I …’ she began, and stopped. Was she really going to do this? Just throw caution to the wind? He subtly moved her so that her body was flush with his, so that she could feel his thighs against hers through the material of their clothes. When she felt a hard ridge she blushed even fiercer.

She stalled, trying with a desperate feeling of futility to cling onto some kind of sanity. ‘I don’t even know you….’ An insidious suspicion struck her and she pulled back slightly. ‘Do you do this often? I mean, it’s easy for you to just offer to take women to bed like this?’

He quirked a smile, a devastating smile. ‘I’ve never before met a woman and wanted her so badly that I’ve been aching to take her to bed within minutes of meeting her. Trust me. And trust that what’s happening between us isn’t usual for me on any level. Or, I think, you.’

Sebastian realised the import of what he was saying. It was true. He’d never been so overcome with a desire to bed a woman that he hadn’t been able to take her out one night and then seduce her the next, but here now with Aneesa … there was an urgency in his body he’d never felt before. It made him feel vulnerable enough to make boundaries clear from the outset. ‘What I’m proposing is that we have just this one night, where we can act on this desire. Explore it to its fullness. And you … can have your wedding night, not as you planned it … but in your own way.’

Aneesa looked at him and tried very hard to be rational. ‘You’re not just doing this out of pity?’

He smiled again and there was a touch of pain to it. He pulled her even closer so that now she could be in no doubt as to the extent of his arousal. She almost groaned aloud, a liquid heat invading her lower body, making her tremble.

‘Does that feel like pity to you?’

She shook her head dumbly, incapable of speech.

‘I wanted you from the moment I saw you arrive in that courtyard—that’s the truth. Your fiancé used you to suit his own ends … but you are an extremely desirable woman.’

He was effortlessly honing in on the insecurity she’d felt about herself as a woman for as long as Jamal had avoided making love to her. ‘I saw you in the shadows—I thought of you … just before I decided to run….’

His hands moved up from her waist, brushing the sides of her breasts until he cradled her jaw, fingers tunnelling through her unravelling hair, caressing her skull.

This was right. She felt it in every bone of her body. The primal urge to mate with this man was almost overwhelming. She wanted him to be her first lover. She was meant to be here with him, tonight. And in the days and weeks to come when she would have to deal with the consequences of her actions, she would be able to hug this secret moment to herself. Tonight would be the oasis in the storm to come. This was her chance to become a woman with a man who truly desired her—on what should have been her wedding night—and she wanted that experience more than she’d wanted anything in her life.

‘I want you to make love to me, Sebastian. Just for tonight.’

He bent his head and came closer. Aneesa’s heart threatened to jump out of her chest, and just before his mouth met hers again he said, ‘Just one night.’

She nodded her head. How could she explain to him that if her family found out about this on top of what she’d just done she might as well emigrate to Alaska forever? Anything beyond tonight was not an option and she knew that.

The kiss, like last time, started slow and gentle. But any restraint or gentleness fast disappeared in an escalating mutual fire of need. Aneesa blindly took Sebastian’s lead and their tongues duelled in a heady dance. Her hands were on his chest, ostensibly to cling onto something solid, but now they wound up and around his neck, bringing her into even more intimate contact with his lean body.

With a muffled groan that resonated right down to her toes, Sebastian’s hands slipped down her back, skimming over the curves of her waist and hips, to cup her bottom and pull her into him even more. Her breasts were flattened against his chest, nipples chafing against her tight bodice.

When she felt the thrusting force of his arousal at the apex of her legs she broke away, breathing harshly.

Sebastian’s face was flushed, eyes glittering a dark blue. Throatily he said, ‘Aneesa, I know what we just said, but if you want to stop … just say the word.’

Everything in her rejected that thought. She’d been living behind a façade of her own making for so long and suddenly things felt clear and bright for the first time in her life. She shook her head fiercely. ‘No … I don’t want you to stop. Don’t ever stop.’

In a tender gesture that made her heart flutter, he smoothed back some hair from her brow. ‘Why don’t we go somewhere more comfortable?’

She nodded and, taking her hand, Sebastian led her towards the bedrooms. That clarity hit Aneesa as they walked through the quiet and darkened suite—the magnitude of what she was about to do … and yet she knew this was what she wanted.

In all honesty she had no idea what the immediate future held for her now, and this moment in time was something she had control over. Sebastian pushed open a door and they stepped in. Aneesa saw a huge room with floor-to-ceiling windows which looked out over a glittering night-time Mumbai. And then she saw the massive bed in the middle of the room. Her heart tripped once and then took up an unsteady beat.

He let her go briefly to turn on a lamp and it threw out a seductively low light, bathing the room in shadows and burnishing Sebastian with a kind of golden glow. Before she had time to think too much he was back, right in front of her and leading her close to the bed.

Gently he turned her around so that her back was to his chest. She felt him start to unbraid her hair and she dropped her head with a delicious shiver skating up her spine. Her hair fell in a sleek black curtain to just between her shoulder blades.

Then he took the ornately decorated end of the sari that was wound up and over her shoulder and pulled it away where it fell to drape over her arm. She could feel the air caress her bare skin where her bodice was revealed and cut very low. She heard Sebastian’s indrawn breath and then felt his knuckles gliding over her skin. She shivered and said with a tiny moan, ‘Sebastian …’ his name dropping effortlessly from her mouth as if she’d been saying it all her life.

He pulled her hair over one shoulder and pressed a kiss to the place where her shoulder met her neck and she realised that he was undoing the tiny fastenings holding her bodice together. It was loose in seconds and he pushed it apart to bare her back completely.

Aneesa couldn’t and didn’t want to stop him when from behind her he pushed her top down her arms until it fell to the floor along with the end of her sari. She was naked from the waist up and Sebastian came right up behind her and snaked his hands around her, trailing them with infinite slowness up over her belly to the underside of her breasts.

Eyes closed, Aneesa beseeched him silently and couldn’t stop the convulsive shiver when his hands came up and cupped her breasts fully, trapping her nipples between his fingers. She arched her back which pressed her bottom into him and she could feel his arousal, rock hard and insistent.

Little moans were coming from somewhere as Sebastian kneaded her breasts, making her nipples stand even more erect, and she only realised then that she was the one making the sounds.

With a smooth move he finally turned her around to face him and Aneesa bit her lip, knowing she should be feeling embarrassed or shy, but unable to drum up anything other than intense need. Sebastian’s eyes dropped to take in her breasts and down to where her hips flared out from a small waist.

Almost reverently he touched her curves. ‘You’re so beautiful, like nothing I’ve ever seen before …’

He slowly started to unravel the sari from around her waist, until he reached to where it was tucked into her underskirt. With a flick the voluminous material fell to the floor and he was undoing the catch on the skirt so that it, too, fell. Aneesa stood before him now, naked but for a gold chain around her waist.

She flushed hotly and felt the need to explain. ‘The women who got me ready had no idea that I wouldn’t be indulging in a traditional wedding night with my husband. They didn’t know that this would have been … wasted on him.’

Sebastian’s eyes lifted and caught hers, his jaw clenched. ‘Well, it’s not wasted on me—it is an honour for me to see you uncovered like this.’

Absurdly Aneesa felt tears threaten. But then Sebastian was bending down to her feet where he lifted first one foot and then the other to take off her shoes. Taking each foot in his hand, he kissed where the henna tattoo snaked up in an ornate design to above her ankles.

And then he took her hands and pressed kisses into each hennaed palm. From where he was, crouched before her, he slowly slid his hands up her legs, first one and then the other, until she had to lean on his shoulders because she was afraid she might fall.

Her long hair slipped over one shoulder as she looked down. With one hand cupping her bottom Sebastian slid his other hand up between her legs, gently encouraging her to part them for him. Aneesa’s heart stopped dead and her breath caught in her throat as those long fingers delved through her dark curls to her most intimate place, stroking along plump moistness where she could feel a pulse throb.

Her legs wobbled, knees threatening to give out, as she gasped, ‘Sebastian.’ Her hands tightened on his shoulders, as he seemed to effortlessly know just what to do to stoke her desire higher and higher. Her belly was clenched, her skin tingling all over and her head felt like it might explode.

‘It’s … too much …’ It’s not enough! The contradictory thoughts rang in her head.

She wanted him to stop and never to stop, and it was overwhelming. She nearly cried out when he took his hand away and stood again. He pressed a hot kiss against her mouth and said, ‘Sorry … we’ll take it slower …’

Aneesa was immediately contrite. ‘No … I mean, I don’t know … I just—’

He shushed her with a finger to her lips. ‘You don’t have to say anything … it’s OK. This is just the beginning.’

And then he started to strip, making her mind go blank. His shirt came off to reveal that stunningly beautiful chest again and then his hands were on his trousers. Helplessly her eyes dropped and she watched in fascination as he pulled them down over lean hips and dropped them to the floor. He stood before her, naked except for a pair of briefs and they bulged with his powerful arousal.

When he pulled them down too, lights exploded behind Aneesa’s eyes to see him revealed in all his glory, massively aroused, and she longed to reach out and explore.

As if he’d heard her wanton thought, he said huskily, ‘Touch me, Aneesa.’

Too scared to touch him where she really wanted, hesitantly she lifted her gaze and then reached out to run her hands over his chest, feeling how satin smooth his skin was under the light covering of hair. She scraped his blunt nipples with her nails, exulting in his indrawn breath and the hiss between his teeth.

And then because it was too hard not to, her gaze dropped again to take in that intimidating arousal which looked as if it had grown even bigger. Tentatively she reached out to touch him. His penis jerked and she bit her lip, reaching out again this time to wrap her hand around him.

She had a sudden memory of giggling over the Kama Sutra when she was in her teens with friends, when hilarity would disguise their genuine fascination with the explicit pictures they saw. She’d always felt slightly guilty by how fascinating the pictures had been to her, and when on a school trip they’d visited the sacred temples of Khajuraho, famous for their erotic sculptures, she’d been mortified at the achy hot feeling she’d felt in her belly after inspecting them, thinking that there must be something wrong with her.

But now Aneesa followed a feminine instinct as old as time and she bent down and took him in her mouth. He tasted salty and musky and her belly clenched with desire, but Sebastian was pulling her back up and she could see the fierce slash of colour across his cheeks and his eyes burning.

‘Stop … that’s enough for now. I won’t be able to go slowly if you keep doing that …’

When he’d seen her hennaed hand encircle him and felt the wet touch of her tongue, Sebastian had feared for his control when he’d never had to worry about it before. But something about the way she’d so innocently looked at him with such blatant hunger and had then bent down, giving him an enticing view of the curve of her waist and buttocks, had nearly sent him into orbit.

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