I didn’t really think about what I did next: sliding my arms around his body, I hugged Jeremiah, laying my cheek against his chest. He stiffened against me for a brief instant, then his arms fell against my back and shoulders and he pulled me close. I closed my eyes and breathed in the familiar scent of his body, tightening my hug.
Why do you have to be such an utter fool? I thought, miserable about how bad affairs had grown between us. Days ago, I would have done anything for the man in my arms. Now, I wasn’t sure why I was even touching him. I sighed inwardly, knowing the answer. Because he needed comforting and, despite everything, I still loved the bastard.
It would be so much better if I could switch off that part of my brain. There was so much clarity when I was alone and angry, but the moment I stepped back into Jeremiah’s presence, everything grew muddled. Even at the worst of times though, I didn’t hate him. His privileged life had been rough, and I understood at least partly why he was who he was. However, that didn’t make dealing with him any easier.
When his hands moved up my back, a flame flickered to life in my belly. I didn’t protest as he maneuvered us around until my back was against the maintenance shed beside us. He lifted my arms up and around his neck, pressing me back against the rough wall, and I trembled at the contact. My body betrayed me, melting at his touch, and when he lifted my chin and leaned down to kiss me, I didn’t protest.
Always before, Jeremiah had been in control, but somehow this was different. He didn’t try to restrain me in any way; his kiss wasn’t an assault or struggle. His lips caressed mine like a lover, making no demands other than for permission to continue. When I opened to him, still he held back, tongue dancing and teasing. I tightened my grip around his neck, pulling him close and wanting more, but he took his time, lips and tongue a gentle torment that was nothing like I’d experienced in his hands.
He broke off the kiss, leaning his forehead against mine. Firelight danced in his eyes and, my breath catching, I traced his beloved face with my fingertips. His eyes searched mine, holding back none of what he was feeling. I read him like an open book, and the knowledge was intoxicating.
“Lucy,” he murmured, my name a benediction on his lips. Desperate longing shone through his eyes as he kissed me again before asking softly, “Stay with me tonight.”
I shut my eyes, licking my lips, then looked back up at him. Desire ached in me, alongside a bleak loneliness, and ever fiber of my being screamed for his touch. He shifted, running a hand down the side of my neck and arm. A cool island breeze brushed against my hot skin, and I shivered as he whispered my name again, lips moving across my forehead.
“I’m sorry, Jeremiah.”
For a moment, I thought he hadn’t heard my low answer, then without a word he pushed free of me. Cool air swirled around me at his sudden absence and I gripped the wall for support, but Jeremiah didn’t speak. I swallowed my agony as he walked away, disappearing into the dark night. Covering my eyes, I bit my lip and tried not to cry even as my heart broke for him.
“My brother isn’t good with rejection.”
I dropped my hand and looked over at Lucas standing against a palm tree nearby, but the gunrunner’s eyes were off into the darkness where Jeremiah had disappeared. I didn’t trust myself to speak without breaking down however, and Lucas seemed to understand. “I’ll walk you to your room.”
We stayed silent all the way up the elevator, Lucas trailing a step behind me. The hotel rooms ran along the outside of the building, and in the light of a rising moon I could see the reflection of the water just beyond the tree line. I pulled my card out and opened the door just as a voice behind me asked, “Do you want some company tonight?”
I looked back to see Lucas studying me. Any hint at a smirk was gone; he waited patiently for my answer, but the words wouldn’t come to my lips. I looked at him and realized, with no small amount of regret, that I wanted to say yes. I wanted to be held tonight, told everything was going to be all right. But, more importantly, I wanted it to be with Jeremiah, and my pride wouldn’t allow that.
He seemed to read my decision because he nodded and took my hand. “Good night,” he murmured, laying a kiss on my knuckle before turning away. I watched his retreat until he disappeared around the corner of the walkway, and then closed myself in my room. Skipping a shower for morning, I left the lights off and curled into the bed, wrapping my arms around myself and trying to hold on to the remnants of Jeremiah’s scent still on my skin.
CHAPTER 7
Nothing I’d ever seen in my life could have prepared me for the Arabian city we flew over.
Dubai itself was not a mystery to me. I’d read about it online and in the news, and had at least a basic understanding about the many sights and attractions. Nothing however could have prepared me for the real deal. Not even a seventeen-hour plane trip dimmed my excitement at seeing the coastal emirate from the sky. The shaped islands, the Babel-like spire reaching into the heavens – everything was larger than life, so over the top and stunning.
When we’d left Jamaica, I’d been depressed that our time there was so short. I had never been to the Caribbean islands before, and would have enjoyed a tour or some fun, but the Hamilton men were all business. At breakfast, Lucas gave us both passports that were identical to the ones we’d left behind. Oddly enough, he’d chosen to replicate my Canadian one, saying it offered greater potential mobility within the Muslim nations. While I knew he was right, now I worried about what he planned to do with that dubious “bonus.”
There was no private jet this trip, at least not for the first leg of our journey. We still flew first class, landing in London’s airport before continuing to Dubai. Once we crossed Customs and Immigration in the Arabian city however, a helicopter had been waiting to take us to our hotel.
“Is this one of yours?” I asked both Lucas and Jeremiah through the headsets we’d been given.
Lucas shook his head. “Belongs to our host,” he said. “A welcome gift of sorts.”
Jeremiah didn’t say a word, just stared out the window at the view below. I found it difficult to look at him; he hadn’t spoken to me since the previous night when I’d rejected his advances. There was no way for me to tell whether he was angry at me, or angry at the situation, and I feared the answer enough to not ask the question. Still, his silence upset me, and the knowledge that I might have hurt him made my heart ache.