Free Turkish Delights Series by Liz Crowe

eluded his embrace, clutched her own elbows and glared at him. His heart sank. “My darling I am only trying to—”
    “My God why don’t you want me? What do I have to do? You didn’t want me all those years ago. You stopped being my friend, just disappeared. Now you…you…kiss me and hold me, and I know damn good and well your body wants me.” She cupped his crotch, which still boasted a fabric tent. “I need you, Levent. I want you. Please?” She stepped into his space, wrapped her small, lush body around his, making him moan with consternation as he kissed her, owned her mouth once more, his hands again roaming into forbidden places. He smelled her lust, the earthy spice of her need, and he nearly threw her down on the grass and had her, but he stopped, looking up at the night sky now lit by a million twinkling dots. Her tears dampened his neck and his shirt as he held her.
    “I am not meant for you, my darling Vivian. And I cannot take from you a most precious gift you can offer a husband. I…won’t.” His soul sank, his heart ached but his brain kicked in, took over. He knew he spoke truth. He would not let his body rule this day.
    “I hate you,” she muttered, as she kept her arms around his waist. They stood like this, her face pressed to his chest, his chin on her head as their bodies cooled and the night wind wrapped around them, binding them, but forcing them apart.
    “You don’t. And I promise you.” He tilted her face up and leaned in to press his lips to her forehead. “I will be something someday. And I will find you. Once I’ve proven myself, I will speak to your father. I will ask for his permission to make you mine.”
    She stepped out of his arms. He felt cold although she was still a foot away from him. Running an arm over her face, she sniffed. “No you won’t. You still think you’re not good enough. And besides you’re too late.”
    His eyebrows knitted into a frown and his skin prickled. “What do you mean, guzelim ?”
    “Oh, just can it with the darlings and beautifuls already, Levent, okay?” She walked away from him, but her next words shot an ice cold spear into his soul. “I’m moving to Ankara. After the Marine Ball next weekend. With, oh hell. Why am I telling you anything?”
    It only took two long strides to reach her, to grasp her arm, and turn her to face him. “You are mine,” he growled, surprising himself. She raised an eyebrow. Before he could stop himself, he slanted his mouth over hers, shoved a thigh between hers, yanked her halfway up his body, pressing his still rock hard need against her soft, deliciousness. She met him halfway, and their tongues tangled and teeth clicked as they tried to position themselves for maximum satisfaction.
    “Oh dear God in heaven help me,” he muttered into the skin of her neck. “I refuse to take you here, Vivian, like some sort of homeless peasant on the grass. I will have you, and soon, but—”
    She laughed and stepped away from him. The sound was the opposite of pleasant. It had a hard edge he’d never heard from her. “No, you won’t. Let’s get out of here. I’m glad you stopped. I don’t want you, not anymore.” Her face was a mask of anger tinged with regret.
    He stood back, allowed her to walk away, as everything in him screamed for him to move, to speak, to do something or lose her forever. But she was right. Some things can’t be, and it was fruitless and shameful for him to keep tempting her and stopping. And at that realization, a part of him curled up in the corner and simply died.

 
     
    Chapter Six
     
     
    Vivian lay on her stomach, a new journal open in front of her on the bed. She bit the end of her pen, frustrated when neither words nor images would come to her. She rolled over and hit the volume of her radio, the scratchy sounds of the Rolling Stones got louder. The same pirate style radio fad that had gripped England had reproduced itself here, as a bunch of Turkish men sat out in the