Every night, they came together and followed the fire that had always been between them, wherever it led. In the aftermath, they would lie together, with their breath coming fast and hard. And it would nearly burst out of him, the need to confide in her.
The way it always had.
“You can tell me,” she said quietly, watching him far too closely. “Whatever it is.”
And there was something in her voice then that made him pause. He barked out a laugh. “Do you think it’s a woman?”
She didn’t reply to that, which was a reply in itself, and he raked his hands over his face. He could not quite bring himself to laugh again. “You credit me with far more stamina than any man could have. Or do you not imagine that the demands we make on each other are more than enough for one person in one day?”
“I have always thought so,” she replied, and he could see her eyes flash, there in the dark. Omar Farouq did not miss the emphasis on the word always.
“I was in my bedchamber when you returned that day,” he
