And so Amira let herself be carried along once more by the women; she didn’t protest when they dressed her in a gown of silvery blue, lined her eyes with kohl, placed copper bangles on both arms and a veil of coins over her face. She understood they wanted to celebrate her recent marriage, just as the young bride was celebrating hers, and she didn’t resist.She wanted to celebrate it too.The sky was deep indigo and studded with millions of stars when the ceremony began. The entire tribe had assembled and Amira watched, enchanted, as the ceremony played out amidst a riot of color, music and dance. The women and men sat separately, and although she looked for him she could not find Abdullah amidst the men gathered under a tent. She wondered if he would even recognize her in the Bedouin dress, headscarf and veil, wondered what he would think of her like this.After the ceremony people circulated freely to enjoy food, music and dance. Several giggling women pushed Amira towards a group o
‘Not as many as you’re thinking, and none in the last year. I’ve been too busy with other things.’ And none like you. Untouched. Innocent. Amazing. He couldn’t believe he was seriously thinking about taking Amira up on her offer to make love to her.‘When I said it was dangerous, Amira, I didn’t mean an unplanned pregnancy. I was talking about the...the emotional risks.’She flinched and then recovered her composure. ‘I’m aware of the risk, Abdullah,’ she told him. ‘And I’m not under the illusion that this would be anything but one night. I’m not asking for more from you.’‘I know that.’‘Then what’s the problem?’ He just shook his head, both torn and tempted. Her smile turned flirtatious, even sultry. ‘I suppose I’ll just have to seduce you.’Surprise flared deep inside him, along with an almost unbearable arousal. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ he managed. He knew she wouldn’t have to do much and he would cave completely. He would take her in his arms and lose himself in her k
‘What are you thinking about, Amira?’ Abdullah asked, his voice a quiet rumble in his chest.‘Nothing—’‘Not nothing,’ he interjected quietly. ‘You’ve gone all tense.’And she realized she had; she was lying stiff in his arms, her hand curled against his chest. Gently he reached up and flattened her fist, smoothing her fingers out before resting his hand on top of hers. ‘What were you thinking about?’ he asked again.She sighed. ‘Just...some memories.’‘The same memories that give you nightmares?’‘No. Different ones.’‘Not good ones, though.’‘No.’ She let out a little sigh. ‘Not particularly.’‘I’m sorry,’ he said after a moment, and somehow that felt like exactly the right thing to say.‘So am I. But I don’t want to think about bad memories tonight, Abdullah. I want to be happy. Just for tonight.’He squeezed her hand lightly. ‘I won’t stop you.’‘I know, but...’ She wanted more than his acquiescence; she wanted his participation. ‘Can we—can we pretend?’ she asked, her voice quaver
He could marry her. The thought made everything in him rear up in shocked panic. Marriage had never been on his agenda. Yet ever since he’d seen that serving girl this morning, and realized the repercussions of his night with Amira, the thought had been rattling around in his brain like a coin in a box.He could marry her—marry the woman who was intended as the Sheikh of Jumeirah’s wife. It would help strengthen his claim, stabilize his throne, and it would give Amira what she wanted too.Why not?Because it’s dangerous. Because the emotional risks you warned her about apply to you too.Because you care about her already.Amira had spoken of a cold, convenient union , but would it be like that if he was her husband? Would he be able to keep himself from caring for, even loving, her?Did he even want to?His mind spun and seethed. He felt the clash of his own desires, the need to protect himself and the urge to be with her—care for her.And did Amira even care for him? Just what kin
SHE’D BEATEN HIM to it, Abdullah thought bemusedly, even as an elemental panic clawed at his insides. He’d been considering marriage to Amira as a solution to both of their problems since this morning. Yet looking at her now, seeing the hope and determination blazing in her eyes, everything in him resisted. There had to be another solution.Slowly he shook his head. ‘That’s impossible, Amira.’‘Why is it impossible?’ she demanded.‘Because I have no wish or reason to marry you, Amira.’ Better to be brutal. Nip it in the bud, if he could. ‘You may be desperate, but I am not.’She flinched, but only slightly. ‘Are you sure about that, Abdullah?’‘Quite sure. You asked for a wedding night, Amira, not a marriage.’‘Well, now I’m asking for a marriage.’‘And I’m telling you the answer is no.’ He rose from his chair, fought the panic that was crashing over him in tidal waves. ‘This discussion is over.’She raised her eyebrows, a small smile playing about her mouth. A mouth he’d kissed. Tast
It had been worth a shot, Amira told herself as she walked back to her tent, escorted by the same men who guarded her. They didn’t speak and neither did she, because she knew she wouldn’t be able to manage a word. Her throat ached and she was afraid that if she so much as opened her mouth she’d burst into tears.Back in her tent she sat on her bed, blinking hard to contain all the pain and hurt she felt. Then suddenly, almost angrily, she wondered why she bothered. Why not have a good cry? Let it all out? No one was here to hear her or think her weak or stupid or far too feminine.She lay down on her bed, drew her knees up to her chest and swallowed hard. Crying—letting herself cry—was so hard. She’d kept everything in for so long because she’d had to. Men like Markos in Muscat were always looking for chinks in her armor, ways to weaken her authority. Shedding a single tear would have been just handing them ammunition. The only time she ever cried was when she had nightmares. In Abdu
‘Amira...Amira!’Amira felt hard hands on her shoulders drawing her up from her damp pillow and then cradling her against an even harder chest.Abdullah. For a second she let herself enjoy the feel of him. Then she remembered that she’d been bawling her eyes out and twisted out of his embrace.‘You should have knocked,’ she snapped, dashing the tears from her cheeks. She probably looked frightful, her face blotchy, her eyes red and swollen...She sniffed. And she has a running nose. Perfect.‘Knock?’ Abdullah repeated, one eyebrow raised in eloquent skepticism. ‘On the flap of a tent?’‘You know what I mean,’ she retorted. ‘You should have made your presence known.’Abdullah regarded her quietly for a moment. ‘You’re right,’ he finally said. ‘I should have. I’m sorry.’‘Well.’ She sniffed again, trying desperately for dignity. ‘Thank you.’‘Why were you crying, Amira?’She shook her head as if she could deny the overwhelming evidence of her tears. ‘It’s been a couple of very long days
AMIRA GAZED OUT of the window of the royal jet at the perfect azure sky and marveled at how quickly things had changed. Just forty-eight hours earlier she’d been sobbing into her pillow, stuck in the middle of the desert with no possibilities and no hope.Now she was flying back to Muscat with Abdullah by her side, planning a wedding in just a few days’ time, and everything was possible.Well, almost everything. She snuck a sideways glance at Abdullah who sat opposite her, his face looking as if it had been chiseled from marble. A deep frown had settled between his brows and his mouth was its usual hard line. He’d barely spoken to her since he’d reconsidered her marriage proposal, a proposal which Amira had wondered more than once whether she should have accepted.Yet in the moment before she’d agreed, when he’d been waiting for her answer, she’d seen a look of uncertainty on his face, almost as if he were bracing himself for a blow. As if he expected her to reject him.That moment of
Omar Farouq trailed kisses from her navel to one breast, then the other, anointing them both with his tongue. “I will make myself vulnerable. I will open myself to you, Aaliyah, and show you all these dark things in me. For you, and my son, I will give whatever you wish. Whatever is needed. Whatever makes us whole.”“And I will do the same,” she said, wiping at her face, though her smile was so wide he thought he could lose himself in it. “I promise you, I will not make up stories in my head and decide they’re real. Never again. I promise you that I will not treat our child the way my parents treated me, never good enough. Always on pins and needles, waiting for the other shoe to drop. I want him happy. So loved it never occurs to him to doubt it.”“How could he be anything else?” Omar Farouq asked.She moved against him, making him suck in a breath. “And I’d like him to be the first, Omar Farouq. Of many.”A family, Omar Farouq thought, letting the notion take hold of him. He had los
Aaliyah didn’t need to be urged out of the SUV when it drove her off the ferry that Angelique had commandeered, then brought her to that little parking area halfway up the lonely mountain. She thanked the driver, then charged up the narrow path cut into the side of the mountain as if she had something to prove.Because she did.And it was probably wiser to get as much of her jagged, furious energy out before she reached the Hermitage.Only because she didn’t think that it would serve anyone if she went in there after him, guns blazing.She already knew where that would lead. And she needed this to be different. She had to find some way to make this different from what had come before.Once she got to the Hermitage’s gates, she worried that it was entirely possible Omar Farouq might have locked her out. If he’d had the slightest suspicion that she would come up here after him.But when she reached the door, a simple push opened it up, and she found herself in that stone court once more
AALIYAH has stayed on that beach for a long time.And when, at last, she turned and started back up the path, she hardly knew how she managed to put one foot in front of the other.She didn’t understand how she was here again. How had she given this same man her heart again only to have him smash it once more?She wandered without paying any attention to where she was going until it occurred to her that everything she’d said to Omar Farouq was true for her, too.Sohar seemed at times a fairy-tale kind of place, but it was all too real. Omar Farouq’s parents had been murdered, for God’s sake. It was just as dangerous for a future queen—or an ex-future queen, to be precise—to wander like this as it was for a king.Or anyway, it was putting an unnecessary target on her back.Aaliyah found it helpful to have something to concentrate on. To figure out where she was, which was easy enough in a place she hardly knew because all she needed to do was look up to see the palace standing there at
“I’m not suggesting otherwise.” She moved closer, there in his arms, to press her fingertips on his chest. “They sound like truly wonderful people. I’m sorrier than you know that I never got the chance to meet them. That Troy never will. But that’s not my point. I spent a lot of time these last year’s thinking about the many ways I could get revenge on my parents for turning their backs on me when I needed them the most. Sometimes it was all I thought about. And do you know what I finally understood tonight?”“I do not want—”“Revenge is a poison, Omar Farouq. It mires you in your worst moments while time marches on without you. It chains you to darkness. I know this. I lived this. And all the while I made up revenge scenarios in my head, my son—our son—was growing up. They tried to make me give him up. And I still spent far too much time in my head, which means I might as well have let them take him.” She let out a soft breath. “Tonight made it all too clear. They don’t have any powe
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
She hadn’t even bothered to change out of the gown she’d worn to the party tonight. Her hair was as he’d rendered it personally, after several hours of tearing each other apart. It hung down to her shoulders and looked as if there had been hands in it.There had been. His, and they ached to get back to it.All this while she stood there, fully exposed. Anyone who happened by could see her, the future Queen of Sohar, wandering around in the dark for no good reason.He made as if to go to her, then stopped before he could. Maybe he shouldn’t reveal himself. She clearly couldn’t see where he’d got to. She was scowling, her hands finding her hips the way they often did when she was out of patience. Then she turned in circles, completely heedless of the fact that she was standing beneath the lantern and therefore in full view of anyone who might care to glance out a window.She was not exactly stealthy.The fact that he should stay hidden and make sure she failed to locate him was clear to
“We received the news from an emissary of your...of the King,” her father said after several moments inched by. He scowled at her. “He insisted that we come and support you.”“And, naturally, since a random king I doubt you’ve ever heard of insisted, you came at once.”“We heard of him when those rude journalists camped out on our doorstep,” her father barked at her. “The neighbors will never look at us the same way.”“The horror,” Aaliyah murmured, with a bit more sarcasm than befitted an almost-queen.“I see that the years haven’t softened you any, Aaliyah,” her mother said with a sigh that made it clear she considered herself the victim here. “That’s a shame.”Aaliyah let out a laugh. “I didn’t want to give Troy away. You wanted nothing to do with me unless I did. I’m not sure what softening would have done to make that scenario any better.”Her father made a low noise as if registering how concerning he found this conversation. But Aaliyah kept her focus on her mother.As ever, An
Especially when she found her aunt sitting on a swing in the rose garden, watching Omar Farouq and Troy kick a soccer ball back and forth on the royal lawn.Her heart squeezed so tight she had to stop walking and fight to breathe. Aaliyah had to remind herself—sternly—of the six hard years she’d struggled through.Almost entirely alone.She found she had to do that a little too much as the days wore on.“Maybe it’s not all bad,” said Corrine on one of their walks through the extensive palace gardens.Back home in Tahoe: They had often tried to put in a bit of a summer garden in what summer there was so high up in the mountains. Unkillable geraniums seemed to be the height of their gardening prowess.It felt a bit like a metaphor that even the gardens here were unutterably lush.“There are worse things, of course,” Aaliyah allowed, trying not to sound disgruntled.When, in fact, she felt disgruntled. She’d woken from strange, dark dreams to find Omar Farouq in the shower. He had bid he
Molten gold, impossible flame, and that maddening, glorious, drugging heat that was only and ever Aaliyah.Each thrust was better than the one before. Each gasp, each touch, a revelation.There was the fury, the rage. There was the hurt, the need.But beneath it was a deep kind of recognition.A truth he was not sure he could name.They tumbled this way and that. She rolled on top and stayed there for a while, riding him with abandon. Then he could take it no longer and flipped her again, coming over her once more. He took her hands and hauled them up over her head so she arched against him, and both of them sighed out the sweetness of it.All of it was sublime. None of it was enough.Maybe he had known all along, back then and in all the years in between that it never could be. That it never would be.That there was only this woman for him.No matter how he’d tried to pretend otherwise.No matter how he’d failed to forget her.Omar Farouq levered himself down, getting his face as clo