Page 26 of My Turkish Fling
“I’m sorry.” I took a bite of my toast and tasted my lukewarm coffee. “I’ve been told I’m not the best at these social situations. I tend to say the wrong thing.” My chest felt like it had rubber bands around it, squeezing my lungs. I listened to her gentle sobs as her face disappeared behind a wad of tissues she yanked out of a box.
“No. You say the perfect thing, and it sucks, because I can’t fall for you. And I’m so vulnerable and messed up enough right now that I would do exactly that. It’d be a disaster.” She sobbed harder, her voice muffled by the layers of tissue.
My heart leapt and tried to swallow the toast swarming around in my mouth. “Fall for me?” Surely, she hadn’t meant to say that. “You’re very upset and confused right now, Janie. But don’t worry, I’m not that charming. I’m fully aware of how not charming I am. Any fleeting feelings you may have will resolve with a good night’s sleep.”
She looked up at me, her eyes red-rimmed and huge. “Do you not see what you are, Emir?”
“What am I?”
I hated the neediness in my voice. I’d decided long ago I was okay with being in my brother’s shadow. I’d moved on. Yet, every word from her fell into a bottomless void inside of me. I was probably worse than her ex-husband, more oblivious to my own need of outside validation.
Janie shifted closer to me, running her fingers down the side of my face, her soft skin catching on my short stubble. “You’re themost insightful and earnest man I’ve ever met. And you’re way too hot not to be aware of it.”
I’d heard comments about my looks, usually in comparison to Cem. If only I smiled more, I’d be so much more attractive. It made me want to smile less, to exclude myself from the pointless beauty contest I had no interest in.
“I’m sorry, Janie. I shouldn’t be fishing for compliments. Or competing for your affections. You’re right. Our lives are too far apart. It would never work. But I can’t help feeling protective towards you. I can’t help…” Pining for you? I’d run out of appropriate words. “I mean, I will keep my distance. If that’s what you want.”
Her eyebrows drew together. “That’s what you think I want? Distance?” Her gaze flicked up at the ceiling, like casting away the stupid thought.
“Maybe it’s not what either of us wants, but it’s what we have to do.”
She nodded, looking angry. “I know. I’m supposed to date this great guy who’s local and age appropriate and a widower, for crying out loud.”
“And you should! I won’t stop you.” I fought out the words, my throat tight.
Someone else would get to enjoy her fighting spirit. Someone else would get to touch her, and I wanted to snap their neck.
“Part of me wishes you did. Because your words are so good. They’re so, so good, Emir.” She looked at me, her eyes like two flames. “To be honest, I don’t just want you to kiss me. I want you allover me, saying all those things. I’m sure that sounds too forward, but that’s how I feel. I know you have to set boundaries, and I’ll do my best to stay away from you because you’re right. I feel this way because I’m lonely and sad and going through something. I tell myself I’m strong, and I am. But when you speak to me… When you… clean my kitchen!” She blinked at me, shaking her head, tears running again. “You’re making me feel things I shouldn’t feel.”
I pulled another tissue out of the box and dried her eyes, then peeled strands of blond hair off her damp cheeks, tucking them behind her ears.
I trusted my own self-control. Maybe I could comfort her for a moment, to make sure she was okay. Still contemplating my actions, I noticed I’d already pulled her against my chest, holding her tightly against my thudding heart.
Janie. I could sense her strength, underneath the welling emotion. She was made of something durable. Something so headstrong it almost scared me. I’d never met anyone like her. A woman who allowed me to see her vulnerability, yet didn’t seem to need me, or anyone, to define who she was. I inhaled her hair, a sweet smell of exotic flowers. Fresh and intoxicating. With every breath, my arm around her tightened further, my chest expanded, and the realization took hold.
I was in trouble.
Chapter 12
Janie
I couldn’t remember feeling that good in months. Maybe years. He held me so tight my lungs flattened, but I no longer wanted to breathe. I only wanted to bathe in Emir’s words and exist against his chest, breathing in the smell of his aftershave. Cinnamon, coffee, and earth.
Through the waves of endorphins coursing through me, I became aware of how I’d ended up there, like a distant, nagging sound that gradually grew louder. I’d thrown myself at him, again. I’d brought him all this hurt he hadn’t caused and made it his problem.
You must be better than this, Janie.
With my every cell wailing in protest, I tore myself away and wiped my eyes. “Thank you, Emir. I needed that. I shouldn’t have… but thank you.”
“Anything you need, Janie.” His voice was a rough whisper. “That’s what I’m here for.”
I didn’t have time to contemplate his words because the doorbell rang, shrill like a fire alarm.
Not yet. Not yet.
I winced, drawing deep breaths to regain some control. “It’s the film crew,” I told Emir, and almost apologized.
He got up, stepping aside so that I could get to the door. “I’ll get out of your way.”
