Virgin Seduction

countertops and a rainbow of fabrics intertwined with the more subtle hues of damp towels bloomed in tropical profusion over every available surface.

Closing his mind to both the chaos and the disturbingly evocative smells, Cade set about gathering up the toiletries Betsy had unpacked for him, putting them back in their travel case. And while he was doing that he went on glibly talking, telling Leila in a logical, reasonable way how he thought she should spend the time while he was gone, catching up on her rest, settling in, getting to know the place…

But not too well, he reminded himself. No sense in her getting too settled in and comfortable here. This 'marriage' was only going to be temporary, after all.

Listening to himself talk like that, without Leila's disturbing presence to distract him and just the sound of his own voice and his reassuringly normal reflection glaring back at him from the mirrors, he could feel his self- assurance coming back. Everything he said sounded reasonable and sane-even logical and wise. And why shouldn't it? He was Cade Gallagher, successful Texas businessman, a self-made man who'd had his first few million under his belt before his thirty-fifth birthday. A man with a far-ranging and well-earned reputation as a deal-maker, a man who knew how to play the game-and win.

Play the game… and win.

It came to him then, a flash of self-awareness like a spotlight trained on a dark corner of his soul, just what had happened to him back there in Tamir. In the first place, he'd gone to Elena's wedding with a business deal in mind. Once there, he'd gotten so caught up in the game and so blinded by the idea of winning, he'd lost his perspective. In order to win the game he'd let himself be coerced into marrying a woman he didn't love, with whom he had nothing whatsoever in common.

But the truth was, he didn't need this 'win.' He didn't need the old sheik's oil deal. He'd made his millions right here in Texas, and there was plenty more where that came from.

He'd been an ambitious fool and had paid the price, but all was not lost. He could still get out of this. He could still get his life back.

Just as long as he did not consummate this marriage.

That was it-the key to his deliverance. Because, from what he'd learned of Leila's culture so far, it seemed to him that when it came to marriage, it was all about the consummation. Even the Walima, the marriage feast, was to celebrate, not the wedding, but the consummation. The way Cade saw it, so long as he didn't make love to his wife, he wasn't even really married.

No problem. So what if she was one of the most beautiful and seductive women he'd ever seen in his life? He was thirty-six years old-a grown man, not a randy teenager. The image that looked back at him in the mirror was confident and mature…eyes world-weary, smile wry, eyebrows set at a sardonic tilt. Yes, he told himself, he had more than enough willpower, he ought to be able to resist one little black-eyed virgin princess.

He picked up his toiletry kit and turned around. And there she was, the virgin princess herself, standing in the bathroom doorway, filling it up so his only escape was going to have to be either through her or over her. Unless she moved out of his way, which she was showing no inclination to do.

As a test of that theory, he took a step toward her. Sure enough, she didn't budge an inch. Instead she watched him with great luminous eyes, and he saw her lips slowly part.

Apprehension shivered through his insides. He took another step…and another. Only a foot or so separated them now. And then she did move, but not away from him. Instead, she lifted one soft, scented hand and laid it alongside his jaw, a touch as cool and light as a flower. His heart began to pound.

'Leila-' With no spit at all in his mouth, it was all the sound he could manage.

She didn't say a word, just touched one petal-like finger to his lips and shook her head. For a long and terrifying moment she looked deeply into his eyes, and he no longer felt the least bit logical or wise. Then she stretched way up on her tiptoes and kissed him.

His heart and stomach performed impossible acrobatic maneuvers and shimmers of panic danced behind his closed eyelids. His confidence had already evaporated. He snatched at a breath that seared the inside of his chest while every impulse and desire in him pleaded with him to give in…to kiss her back and then some. To carry her to his bed and make love to her for what was left of tonight and let tomorrow and the rest of his future-and hers-take care of themselves.

He might have done it. He wasn't sure what would have happened, in fact, if he'd had both hands free. As it was, while one hand, already tingling with anticipation of the feel of her, hovered indecisively inches from her shoulder, his other hand, filled with the small leather case that held his toiletries, made a lump, a slight but significant barrier between his chest and hers. One she couldn't ignore.

She drew back, one of her hands still resting on his shoulder, and looked down at it. After a long moment, her eyes came back to his. 'I do not understand,' she said in a husky voice. 'These are your personal things. Why do you need them? Where are you taking them? Now…tonight?'

The air seemed to back up in Cade's chest. His tongue felt thick as he tried to explain. 'I…uh, I thought I'd, you know, sleep in the guestroom-it's just across the hall…' Why did he feel like an inept thief trying to explain the goodies in his sack, an unprepared schoolboy without his homework?

'But, this is your bedcham-bedroom.' She wasn't touching him at all, now, but somehow he knew she was trembling. 'Betsy told me. If you do not wish me-' She broke off suddenly, as if she'd been choked, and swallowed hard several times. Then he saw her body stiffen and her chin lift, and his own heart sank. With her face now pale and frozen as a statue, she said in a proud and quiet voice he'd never heard before, 'If you do not wish me to sleep here with you in your bedroom, then you must tell me. It is I who should move to the guestroom, not you.'

'It's only for tonight,' he heard himself say, as his free hand doublecrossed him by lifting to her cheek. He felt himself brushing it with the backs of his fingers, and it was hot and smooth, like the skin of a ripe peach. What the hell was he doing? And why had he ever imagined this would be easy?

'We are both so tired,' he gently explained, 'and I'm pretty sure if we share a bed tonight, neither of us will get any sleep. There'll be other nights…' Was it a lie? He didn't even know for sure. And if it was, why did it come so easily to him? He wasn't-or never had been-a dishonest man. 'We'll have plenty of time. When I get back. Tonight…you just rest, okay?' He ducked his head and touched his lips to her forehead. He'd never felt so confused and ashamed of himself. 'Get some sleep,' he said huskily, and walked away and left her there.

* * *

Leila woke up in a very large bed and for a moment could not think where she was. She felt sweaty and her heart pounded the way it had sometimes done when she was a very little girl, waking from a nightmare she could not remember.

But she was not a little girl, and there was no Salma to stroke her hair and kiss her cheek and tell her everything was all right. And besides, she remembered it all, now. She was in Texas, in America, and the wife of a man named Cade Gallagher, whom she did not know. And did not understand at all!

In Tamir he had kissed her. She understood that well enough. He had desired her then-surely she had not been wrong about that. And now that she was his wife, he did not seem to want to kiss her at all.

And yet…he had been kind to her. Considerate, yes, and even tender. She stretched languorously, pushing her arms amongst the pillows, then lightly touched the place on her forehead where he had kissed her. The memory of his lips, how warm and smooth they had felt against her skin, made a startling little shiver go through her.

And-she realized it now, though she'd been too humiliated at the time to appreciate the fact-he'd actually proposed marriage to her to save her from public disgrace! A foolish thing to do, but in a way very sweet…

Sweet? She remembered now-that was what Elena's friend Kitty had said about Cade. That he was sweet, like a…what was it? A marshmellow? Leila actually giggled; it had seemed then, and still did seem a very unlikely way to describe a man.

Maybe-the thought came suddenly-it was not such a good thing for a man to be too sweet. At least, not all the time.

But her outlook was brighter as she threw back the covers. She felt much more like her usual buoyant self. It was as Cade had said, that they both had been very tired yesterday, from all the traveling and the emotional stress of what had come before. Her husband had been right, and wise, to postpone consummating their marriage until they had both had a chance to rest and-how had he put it?-yes, settle in.