Hidden In the Sheikh's Harem (17 page)

‘I planned to take my time...' He bit his lower lip, watching her eyes darken as she arched her hips against his hand. He leaned down, taking the lace between his teeth as he undid one catch and rolled the stocking slowly down the smooth skin of her thigh. Discarding it on the floor, he turned his attention to the other thigh and repeated the action. Dara shivered, unconsciously spreading her thighs wide for him. Or maybe it wasn't unconscious at all; maybe she was deliberately trying to drive him insane.

Pushing the thin lace to one side, Leo trailed one fingertip along the slick crease between her thighs. Dara moaned under his touch, pressing closer into his hand. He could tell that she was ready for him. But a wicked part of him made her wait a moment longer. He leaned just close enough to blow a single breath of hot air against her sensitive flesh.

Dara gasped, gripping the hair at the nape of his neck to pull him closer.

The action drove him wild. She was flushed and breathing harshly. Leo obeyed her breathless plea, pressing his lips to her tender flesh and hearing her groan in response. He moved his mouth in sync with his fingers, driving her closer and closer to that point of no return. He felt her body tense under the onslaught of pleasure. A single curse escaped those delicate lips as she reached her climax.

No sooner had her aftershocks subsided than he was thrusting deep inside her, sinking into her molten heat with a muttered curse of his own. ‘Oh,
Dio
, I've missed this.' He groaned as he built up a steady rhythm, spreading her legs wide as he leaned down and took one taut nipple into his mouth.

Dara caressed his back with her fingertips as he drove into her with all the control he could muster.

His release came hard and fast, taking them both by surprise.

Once the wave of pleasure had subsided, he sank down on the rug by her side and exhaled hard.

Dara sat up on one elbow, tracing the hairs on his chest idly. ‘That was worth the wait.'

Leo murmured his agreement, feeling her hands on his chest and listening to her rhythmic breathing as his eyes closed.

* * *

Dara couldn't sleep. She stared up at the two stockings that hung over the fireplace. They looked so plain, so small on that huge mantelpiece. That same feeling that had plagued her for the past few months threatened to overcome her again.

This wasn't about the stockings.

The same way as her frequent trips to Syracuse had nothing at all to do with business.

Since they had opened up their charitable project, the Valente Foundation, she had been required to attend a handful of fundraisers and benefits. Her presence wasn't necessarily required in any of the institutions they supported on a day-to-day basis, and yet she had found herself taking on the role of patroness at the Syracuse orphanage with the aim of being a silent figure.

The first couple of trips had been to check on the progress of some renovations, and then she had arranged for a new playground to be built. That playground had been finished in the summer, and yet she still found reason to visit as often as she could manage. With Leo away she had found herself making the hour-long trip up to three times a week. Even the ever-smiling house matron had begun to look confused at her continued presence.

There were stockings up on the fireplace at the orphanage too. Seventeen of them, side by side, hanging on a string in the common room. Now that Leo was home she supposed she would find no reason to go to Syracuse again. He would ask questions about why she visited only one orphanage—why not all the others? Why not the hospitals? He would know, just as she knew, that her actions weren't about being charitable at all.

The press had been merciless in the beginning: everyone had wanted to see Leo Valente transformed from playboy to father. Dara had never made a secret of her inability to bear children, so it had been no surprise that the press had caught wind of it soon after their wedding. The rumour mill had gone into overdrive. Would they adopt? Would they use a surrogate? They'd been a hot topic for quite some time.

They had decided that their business was their own, and that their choice to remain childless was both private and definite.

Hot tears threatened to fall from her eyes now, as emotion built in her throat. It just didn't make sense. She had made it clear from the start—before they married—that children were not in her future. She'd made her peace with that on a hospital bed, upon being informed that her condition was incurable. She hadn't been foolish enough to hold out any hope of some day carrying a child of her own. It was better to be realistic. She had never had strong maternal tendencies anyway. For goodness' sake, she was a workaholic and a complete neat freak—both qualities didn't exactly mix well with motherhood.

She knew all this and yet she had been selfish enough to go back to the orphanage after that first time. Selfish and inconsiderate.

She had been plagued by a sense of restlessness these past few months. Married life was wonderful, and her success in her career was at an all-time high. And yet it seemed as if the only time she felt whole these days was when she was there.

The children were wonderfully well behaved, thanks to the efforts of the brilliant schoolteachers led by Matron Anna. Each visit brought with it new adventures filled with laughter. Life was less serious, less stressful.

A vision of small brown eyes and a playful grin filled her mind. A small hand holding on to hers so tightly. She couldn't keep lying to herself. There was only one reason why she kept going back there, and that reason had a mischievous smile and liked to curl up on her lap to read.

She heard the sounds of Leo waking up behind her and tried to wipe away the tears from her cheeks without him noticing. Tried and failed.

‘Dara?' He was up in an instant, sleep clouding his eyes. ‘Has something happened?'

‘I'm fine—let's just go up to bed.' She shook off his embrace, pulling a blanket from the sofa to drape around her shoulders.

‘You've been crying.'

‘I'm fine...honestly.' She tried to avoid his penetrating gaze, turning to poke at the dwindling embers in the grate.

‘You've been acting strangely since we got here. I thought you loved this place—I thought being here on a more permanent basis would make you happy.'

‘It does. I'm looking forward to us spending Christmas here together.'

‘Dara, I don't know what is going on with you. You've been avoiding some of my phone calls while I was away. Even when I specifically called when I knew you'd be finished with work. And today my driver mentioned that you've been disappearing by yourself for hours at a time. With no reasonable explanation—'

‘You had your driver keeping tabs on me?' Dara was incredulous.

‘I wasn't going to pay it any attention, because I trust you. But dammit, Dara, you're hiding something from me and I want to know what it is.
Now
.'

‘What do you think? That I'm cheating on you?'

Leo crossed his arms, looking darkly into the glowing fire. ‘I'd like to think I know you better than that.'

Dara placed her hands on her hips. ‘Well, it sounds like you're accusing me of something. I'm entitled to
some
level of privacy. Just because we're married, it doesn't mean we need to live in each other's pockets, for goodness' sake.'

She moved to walk away and felt his hand move gently to her wrist.

‘Dara...'

His voice was quiet, and something in its tone appealed to her logic. She knew she was behaving out of character. And that he must be concerned. He had flown for almost twenty-four hours to come here and surprise her, and here she was shouting at him for asking if she was okay.

The realisation brought even more tears.

‘I'm sorry.'

She sat down heavily on the sofa, hiding her face in her hands. She felt him come to her, felt his solid warmth slide alongside her and envelop her as she sat there trying to make sense of why she was falling apart.

‘I've been going to the orphanage in Syracuse,' she admitted. ‘It started as a simple project to update their facilities. But then it became...more.'

Leo sat silently, watching her reveal her secrets.

‘I was there one day, helping to choose wallpaper for the common room, when one of the smallest children—a boy—walked right up to me and grabbed my hand. The other children had avoided me on previous visits; I was a stranger with a foreign accent and a fancy suit. I was unapproachable.' She smiled to herself. ‘But not him. He grabbed on to my hand and asked me to come and see his drawings. He had drawn a picture of a house by the sea. He gave it to me as a gift and asked me if I would come back again. So I did.'

Leo remained silent for a moment, watching her. ‘Why do you feel the need to hide all this? It's charitable work.'

‘Don't you see? It's
not
work to me. I
want
to be there. It makes me happy to be there with all the children. But most of all with Luca...'

‘Luca is the boy's name?' Leo asked quietly.

Dara nodded. ‘It's unfair of me to grow attached. Because he's just a child and he will think that I want to...that we might want to...' The words stuck in her throat, unable to come out.

‘That you might want to become his mother?' Leo said.

Dara looked at him quickly, as though he had struck her. That one word was enough to make her mind turn to panic.

Mother.

‘I won't go back again. I suppose I'm only just realizing that I've used the orphanage to relieve my restlessness. To occupy myself.'

She stood up and walked to the Christmas tree, touching one of the golden baubles and making it spin.

‘It was a selfish act and I'm feeling guilty, that's all.'

Dara turned back to her husband. He sat completely nude on the sofa, watching her with a look so concerned it melted her heart. If she told him any more she would only regret it in the morning. It wasn't that she feared his judgement. In fact it was completely the opposite. She feared his pity.

Leo had taken the news of her infertility in his stride from the moment she'd revealed her secret to him. He had been understanding, and he had helped her to realize that her condition did not define her.

To bring up all those old insecurities now would only belittle how far they had come as a couple.

That was the thing, though—she wasn't quite so confident that she had ever rid herself of them at all. Rather, she had just chosen to focus on being the beautiful woman that Leo made her feel she was and ignored the sad and broken woman of her past.

She bit her lip. Leo was looking at her intensely, waiting for her to speak. She couldn't tell him the truth, not tonight anyway.

‘I'm sorry. I feel like I've ruined this wonderful night with my own silly ramblings.' She shook her head, banishing the dark thoughts from her mind.

She walked to him and straddled his lap.

‘Dara, we're having quite a serious conversation here, and I will find it very difficult to concentrate with you in this position.'

He shifted, but she moulded her body even closer to him.

‘I've had enough talking for tonight.' She leaned over him, nipping his earlobe just hard enough to make him groan. ‘You said we have twenty-two days to make up for, and I plan on obeying my husband's wishes.'

She smiled wickedly, banishing all other thoughts from their minds as their bodies instinctively moved against each other.

* * *

Leo sat on the terrace, looking out at the midday winter sun shining on the choppy waves of the bay. Most of their morning had been spent in bed, making up for lost time. But some time after brunch Dara had found herself taking a call from Mia about something vitally important. Rather than being annoyed at the interruption, Leo had once again been impressed at how much his wife's company relied on her.

She ran Devlin Events like a well-oiled machine—just as he would expect. But still her staff looked to her for guidance, and felt comfortable in doing so. This was one of the main reasons for her skyrocketing success. Her employees were satisfied, and therefore so were her clients. Add that to the fact that she was unbelievably talented and passionate, and it could only be a recipe for success.

He watched her through the terrace doors as she booted up her tablet computer and wielded it like a clipboard. She was tense, even after a night of being thoroughly made love to.

Her revelation about her trips to the orphanage had confused him. Dara had never shown any interest in children. He had never even seen her speak to a child, not to mention drive out of her way to go and visit one. But recently he had begun to feel a distance between them. They both had busy careers, but they usually made sure to keep time for each other.

Leo stood, suddenly needing to walk. He took the path down along the cliff-face—the same path he'd used to take as a boy. He stopped on the flight of steps that led down to the old boathouse, remembering his childhood self rushing down the stone steps, furiously trying to hold in the tears and escape his nightmarish life. Living with a mentally ill mother had forced him to live in silence. His formative years had been spent in isolation, and in fear of upsetting her with his mere presence.

Those memories no longer held the same dark power over him—not since Dara had come into his life. Now every time he walked down here he was reminded that he was happier than either of his parents had ever been.

Right now, he was impressed that the little boathouse was still standing. He pushed the door open with a creak and ducked his head inside.

A row of plastic boxes lined the floor—he had insulated the place last year, once they had decided to use it for storage rather than leave it to rot. Flipping the lid of the box nearest the window, Leo idly surveyed the contents. A collection of coloured yo-yos lay inside, once his favourite boyhood hobby. He picked up a red one and spun the yarn tightly between the circular wooden discs.