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friends.”
    The cabbie grumbled, but in the way of all Istanbul drivers, barely looked over his shoulder before peeling back out into traffic. Vivian kept trying to touch his leg and as much as he wanted it, he knew it would never fly inside the taxi. So he pushed her toward her door. She stuck her tongue out. But he merely nodded toward the driver, letting her know to cool it. They sat, weaving their way through the pre-dawn traffic his heart soaring as he took in her profile. Her exquisite, delicate features, long brown hair begging him to bury his hands in, full red lips swollen from his attentions. Her hands were clasped in her lap, as she stared straight ahead. Levent glanced at the driver then snuck a hand over to hers, covering them both. The heat from her skin made him bite back a groan. He kept his hand there, wondering what in the hell he could do about the fact he was head over heels for this girl again—the one girl he couldn’t have.

 
     
    Chapter Four
     
     
    He walked her to the huge door, but Vivian pulled him around to the back. There was absolutely no way she could waltz into the front door this late. One of the kitchen doors had a key she kept hidden under a rock nearby. She felt his gaze on her as she swiftly got herself back inside. He stood, hand on the door, keeping her from closing it. Any number of odd emotions roiled in her gut, making her short of breath. This impossibly handsome Turk, her dear friend from childhood, a man beyond her wildest dreams stood so close it made her goofy and weak all over again. Thoughts of using him to get into trouble flew from her head. In his arms tonight on the rickety bridge where they used to sit for hours as children, for the first time in her life, she had felt one hundred percent loved.
    She put her hand on his rough cheek. He closed his eyes and put it to his lips. “We cannot, you know.” His voice was barely a whisper. “It’s not right. Not appropriate.”
    “I’ll be the judge of that.” Her voice sounded stronger than she felt. This would be quite the bombshell indeed. Locals and diplomats only mixed on a purely functional level, for day to day business and minor socializing. Besides, to her father this amazing man would always be “that servant boy” and she knew it. “Can we have tea? Tomorrow?”
    He opened his eyes, shook his head. “No, I…I spend Sundays with my mother. But….” His eyes were bright. “Monday, after class. We must be careful, in public, you know. With our books and only on the campus.”
    Vivian sighed. Stupid backward country. He leaned in and brushed her lips once more. It took everything she had not to yank him inside and hold him hostage, forever. Besides his obvious physical attractiveness he made her feel protected, cared for, as he had when they were kids. Like his mother had for all those years when her own social climbing parents effectively ignored her.
    “Farewell, small one. I will see you soon. I promise.” He kissed the palm of her hand and placed it over his heart. Vivian loved the feel of him, warm, strong, masculine. Her knees were wobbly by the time he pulled the door shut, his finger to his lips to make sure she kept quiet. She shut the door and stood for a long time, looking up at the ceiling, wondering what had happened to her in the last twenty-four hours. Who had happened to her, perhaps the better question. And what the hell would she do about it now?
     
    ***
     
    Levent sipped his tea and listened as his mother went on about the latest affront to Turkey and Turks in general. But he didn’t really hear her. His head filled with Vivian’s laughter, her near perfect use of his language, the taste of her lips, the feel of her body against his. He ran a hand down his face.
    “ Anne .” He interrupted his mother. She set her tea glass down and looked at him. “Do you remember…Vivian?” He needed to talk about her. She frowned at him, which made his throat tighten. He should not have