‘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
She stared at him uncertainly for a moment and he imagined how hard it must have been for her, all of nineteen years old, devastated by grief and so utterly alone, trying to assert herself against the sanctimonious prigs of her Council. The fact that she was still here, still strong, both amazed and humbled him.‘You can do it,’ he said softly. ‘You can do anything you set your mind to, Amira. I know that. I’ve seen it.’She gave him a small, tremulous smile. ‘Except maybe make a fire in the middle of the desert.’He felt himself grin back at her. ‘There were a few flames going there. If that snake hadn’t come along...’‘If you hadn’t come along,’ she shot back, her smile widening, and then she drew her up and turned towards the double gold-paneled doors.He watched as she threw open the doors, grinned at the sight of twelve slack-jawed, middle-aged men rising hastily to their feet as Amira walked into the room.‘Good afternoon, gentlemen,’ she greeted them regally, and Abdullah had t
Suddenly her mouth was dry. Her heart beat harder. ‘No,’ she whispered.He took another step towards her and then another, so if she lifted her hand she could touch him. He smiled down at her. ‘I didn’t think so.’Of course, he didn’t think so. Her need for him was obvious, overwhelming, and undeniable. And the very force of it made her bold. ‘I want you, Abdullah.’ Appreciation flared in his eyes. ‘I want you too.’Want. So basic, so huge, yet Amira felt even more than just that. She felt gratitude and admiration, respect and joy, all because of what he’d done, who he was. How he’d helped and strengthened her. She’d never expected to feel that way about someone, to have that person fulfill a need and hope in her she hadn’t even known she had.The need to tell him all that she felt was an ache in her chest, a pressure building inside her, so she opened her mouth to speak, to say even just a fraction of what was in her heart.But Abdullah didn’t let her.He curled his hands around her
Their wedding took place in the palace chapel, with only the Council members and their wives, as well as a few ambassadors and diplomats, in attendance.Amira wore a cream silk sheath dress and a matching fascinator, no veil or bouquet, or really anything bridal at all. She’d picked the outfit with the help of her stylist when she’d arrived in Muscat, thinking only of what image she wanted to present to her public. She’d wanted to seem like a woman in control of her country and her destiny, perfectly prepared to begin this businesslike marriage.She hadn’t wanted to look like a woman in love, yet she knew now that was what she was. And as she turned to Abdullah to say her vows she wished, absurdly, perhaps, for a meringue of a dress and a great, big bouquet, a lovely lace veil and a father to give her away.Never mind, she told herself. It’s the marriage that matters, not the wedding. Yet what kind of marriage would she have with Abdullah?Last night had been so tender, so wonderful a
THE NEXT MORNING they boarded the royal jet to Paris. Since last night Amira had felt closer to Abdullah than ever before, even though neither of them had put a name to what they felt. Perhaps it was too early to put such fragile feelings into words; in any case, Amira was simply glad to be sharing Abdullah’s life, and that he wanted her to.‘You must be very close to your aunt,’ she said as the plane took off and they settled into their seats. A royal steward brought a tray of coffee and pastries into the main cabin.Abdullah poured milk into both of their coffees, his mouth twisting in something like a grimace. ‘I am, but it is a complicated relationship.’‘How so?’‘When Aunt found me, I’d been in the desert for three years. I was...’ He paused, his gaze on the bright blue sky visible from the plane’s windows. ‘Difficult. No, that is putting a polite spin on it—feral is a better description.’Feral. Amira swallowed and blinked back sudden tears. Emotions, ones she’d suppressed and
As they left the airport for Aunt’s Diyannah townhouse near the Ile de la Cité Abdullah marveled at the change in himself. He felt like some shell-less creature, pink, raw and exposed, everything out there for another person’s examination. It was a strange and uncomfortable feeling, but it wasn’t necessarily bad.He’d been glad to tell Amira about his childhood, his aunt, his own fears and weaknesses. He’d never talked that way to another soul, yet he craved that kind of honesty with Amira.He just didn’t know what to do next. How it all would actually work. Take one step at a time, he supposed. For now he needed to think about Aunt Diyannah.He’d phoned her from Muscat, so she was waiting as their limo drew up to her townhouse and their security detail quickly got out to check the surrounding area.Aunt Diyannah came out to the front steps, her face wreathed in a tremulous smile, her wispy white hair blowing in the breeze. She looked so much older, Abdullah thought with a pang, and h
Abdullah stared at her, his expression shuttered. ‘You are speaking in riddles.’ ‘Only because I am still afraid to tell you the truth,’ Diyannah admitted quietly. ‘But I can see you have changed, Abdullah. I know you love Amira—’‘Don’t tell me what I feel.’ Abdullah cut her off brusquely and everything in Amira cringed and shrank. What was happening, and how had it all gone so wrong, so quickly?Because it hadn’t been strong enough to begin with.‘Abdullah.’ Diyannah faced him directly, bravely, as if she were facing a firing squad—a death sentence. ‘Hashem is not your father.’His expression, amazingly, did not change. It did not so much as flicker. He didn’t even blink.‘Say something,’ Diyannah said softly and a muscle in his jaw bunched.‘Nonsense.’‘You don’t believe me?’ Diyannah blinked, incredulous.‘Why are you telling me this now, Diyannah, after so many years?’ He nodded towards Amira. ‘Is it because of Elena? Because you think I’ve changed?’Amira flinched; he sounded s
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