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to see anything.”
    “You’re a client.”
    “But still a man. And you, Olivia McInnes, are a woman, despite all your attempts to prove otherwise.”
    She frowned. “What do you mean?”
    “Your work clothes. The suit and tie.” He combed his fingers through her hair and she shivered at the intimacy of it. “The short hair. I like it, by the way.”
    “You’re not supposed to be noticing my hair.”
    He laughed. “I noticed everything about you from the very first time we met. I thought you were a new secretary. Totally off limits.”
    “You assumed I was a secretary. How sexist.”
    “Not at all. You were in the photocopying room. What else was I supposed to think?”
    “That I was doing my photocopying?”
    “Hm. In general, in the embassy, the secretaries do the photocopying. Whether they are male or female.”
    She relented. “Very well. But I should like to point out that, even though I am not your secretary, I am still off limits.”
    “Are you? This little dimple here.” He traced it with his finger. “I noticed that when you smiled at Saleema. She brought you a cup of tea. And the tiny scar in your eyebrow here, I was looking at that while you were examining the dugong. How did you get it?”
    “I fell off my bike when I was five.”
    “I’m sure you got straight back on it. Now we come to the kissable spot beneath your ear, just here.” The pad of his finger pressed lightly against her skin. “How far off your limits is that?” His eyes bored deep into hers, waiting for an answer.
    She could still say no.
    She couldn’t say no. That was the problem.
    Her lips parted. “There,” she whispered. “Kiss me there.”
    She felt his breath first, warm and soft, skittering across her sensitive skin, then the merest touch of his lips, just enough to send her pulse soaring. He pressed harder, branding her with the heat of his mouth. She clung to the rail and gulped at the salty air. His tongue swiped a trace across her skin, as if tasting her. He pulled away, just a little, and blew gently so that her wet skin was suddenly cold. She shivered.
    “Do it again.”
    “There?” he asked in a low voice. “Or here?” His finger trailed down her jaw and landed on the pulse point in her neck. Her blood pumped harder and faster in response.
    She sighed raggedly. “Please. There.”
    Khaled reached behind her to cut the engine. He cupped her jaw between his hands and lifted her chin. He tilted his head and studied her with an intensity that ought to have embarrassed her, but somehow only increased her desire. Olivia bit her lip to keep herself from begging him to hurry up. She arched toward him in mute invitation. His thumbs began to circle slowly, just under her jaw. She whimpered.
    When she thought she might explode from wanting, he bent his head and licked. She shuddered with pleasure. He did it again. And again and again. With each stroke, desire built. When finally he pressed his mouth to her skin and sucked, Olivia let out a long breath. She detached her hand from the rail and clung to Khaled instead. He began to trail his kisses further up her neck, along her jawline, tracing her cheekbone, all the way finding sensitive spots Olivia had no idea she possessed. Wherever he touched her, with lips, or teeth or tongue, her nerve endings sparked into delicious sensation. Her body was more intensely alive than she had ever known possible, yet still it wasn’t enough. She wanted more. She wanted everything.
    She wove her fingers into his hair and guided his head down until his lips met hers. It felt like this was the part of her that had always been missing. Like this was how kissing was always supposed to have been, and everything else had been practice.
    She had no idea how long they were locked in their embrace, but eventually Khaled pulled free and the world shifted back into focus. He hooked his arm tightly around her waist and turned the ignition key with his free hand.
    “Khaled,” she