Ali Ahmed POV"And finally, I agree to the four percent subsidy on dates and nuts," Ali said. When his advisors nodded around the table, he closed the folder in front of him with a snap. "Thank you all. Meeting adjourned."Slowly, his advisors started to trickle out, moving on from discussions about Al Jumeirah agriculture to comparing their dinner plans. Ali followed, glad that the meeting was over. He was dedicated to Al Jumeirah and invested in any initiative to make it a better place, but agricultural meetings tended to be very dull. Today had been no exception.Bidding a few last goodbyes to his advisors, he turned towards his mother's rooms. After her husband had died, Ali's mother, Fatima, had moved to a spacious cottage on the palace grounds, giving the rooms meant for the Sheikh to Ali, despite his arguments against it. He'd worried that she would miss the rooms where she'd lived for most of her life, but he had to admit that she seemed happier in the cottage.The loss of Ali
Kyra Suarez POVThe weeks flew by, full of preparations for the reunion, worries about seeing Ali again, and joyous celebrations for Omer's sixth birthday. After what felt like little more than a few heartbeats, the evening of the reunion was here.Kyra thought she might keel over with nerves. Instead, she went to work and, distracted, spilled tea all over a stack of reunion agendas, which she then had to reprint. Then she came home and spent a long hour sitting at the table with Omer while he did his homework, trying to stop herself from staring at the clock. Finally, at five, she fed Omer a quick dinner of fish sticks with mashed potatoes and carrots and headed upstairs to get dressed while Omer played in his room.When she opened her closet, Kyra felt her heart sink. She wanted to look nice for this evening. Even if Ali wasn't going to be there, she would want to look put-together for the rest of her former classmates who she'd be seeing again for the first time in years. She didn'
Ali Ahmed POVAli stepped off the stage and into the crowd of his former classmates. He was hardly paying attention to their congratulations, though.Before he'd gone to give his speech, he'd spotted Kyra across the room. She'd been just as gorgeous as she was in college, though she was different, too. She was wearing a green dress that perfectly complemented her wavy brown hair, which had been up in a sophisticated twist with a few strands loose to frame her face. She'd looked a bit nervous, but still beautiful and elegant. Ali had wanted nothing more than to run to her, but instead he'd gone to give his speech and lost sight of her. Just now, he'd seen her again, but she'd answered a call and turned to leave.Ali tried to follow her to the doors, wanting to catch her for at least a moment. His bodyguard, Mohammed, followed close behind. Why was Kyra leaving now? Did she not want to talk to him? Ali wouldn't blame her, but he also couldn't stand to leave things this way. No way was h
Kyra Suarez POV Kyra flopped back on the couch, letting out a deep sigh. She'd just gotten Omer settled, after determining that his 'stomach ache' was nothing more than a wish for her to come home, and sent Jenny off with her full payment. Now she was here, home, in her familiar living room. And she'd failed. This had been her one chance to tell Ali about their son, and she'd failed. Maybe now she'd send Ali an email, breaking the news of Omer over the internet. There wasn't another option, after all. Kyra rubbed her forehead with one hand and wished, not for the first time, that she had someone to talk to. She didn't have a lot of friends. Her coworkers often invited her out for drinks, but she was always rushing home to be with Omer. And when she wasn't with Omer, she was working. There was no time for the kind of closeness that would let her pick up the phone and call someone to talk over what to do. Just as Kyra was considering getting up, putting together a snack, and leaving
Ali Ahmed POVOmer was his son?That didn't make any sense.Ali stood, frozen, by the door. He was too hot in his jacket in the warm living room, but he didn't dare move to shrug it off. He just stared at Kyra across the room still in her green dress, her hair now coming out of the formal twist to send ringlets down her shoulders. That little boy, with the airplane pajamas and the messy hair, was his son?"Ali, say something," Kyra said. She stepped closer to him, though they were still separated by a few feet. "I know this must be a huge shock and I don't blame you for that.""I have a son." Ali repeated her words, hoping that they would help him make sense of what was going on. There was no way that he had a son.Except for that one night, years ago, when he and Kyra had finally let the barriers between them slip away. It had been the best night of his life, something that Ali could never forget. Had that night led to something permanent? Had it led to that little boy in the hallway
Kyra Suarez POVKyra was angry. Angrier than she'd expected. Years ago, she'd pushed away any feelings about Ali Ahmed, leaving her heart closed. She'd turned all her attention to Omer and to making a life for both of them. She'd turned down offers of dates, not wanting to open up her heart again when it could so easily get broken.But now, with Ali Ahmed here, all her feelings were rushing back. Earlier, at the reunion, she'd felt her memories of love resurfacing. At home, Ali Ahmed looked around her living room like it was a hovel, it was anger that was the stronger emotion. Kyra had been angry years ago when she'd found Ali Ahmed's note and understood that he'd left without saying goodbye. But she was even more angry now. Now she knew that Ali Ahmed was a sheikh. Surely, he had the resources to find her again. And now, when he found out about Omer, it seemed that all he could think about was how happy he was to be with Kyra again.Well, they could have had years together. He was th
Ali Ahmed POV Ali Ahmed stood outside the door to Kyra's apartment, feeling nerves sweep through him. Last night, he'd been filled with thoughts of seeing Kyra again. Today he was going to meet his son. That was even more stressful. What if Omer reacted badly? What if his son didn't like him?Ali Ahmed wasn't sure how one dressed to meet their long-lost child, so he'd settled on his usual semi-formal slacks and button-up shirt. The fact that he hadn't brought many clothes to the reunion, since he was only staying overnight, also made things difficult. He would have liked to dress a little more casually. That kind of thing appealed to children, right?After what seemed like hours, Ali Ahmed knocked and braced himself. He expected to see Kyra again, but instead, the door opened to reveal a little boy in a small pair of jeans and a green airplane T-shirt. His hair was messy and curly, just like Ali Ahmed's, and his brown eyes had the same gold flecks as Kyra's."Hello," Omer said, wavin
Kyra Suarez POVKyra held Omer's hand as they stepped from the airstrip through the large, ornate gates into the palace. Partially, she was keeping him from getting too excited and running away. Partially, she was trying to keep herself calm. She had known that Ali Ahmed was a Sheikh. She'd known that he was very wealthy. But seeing it all was something completely different. As someone who had struggled to save every possible penny her whole life, this felt like a different world.Kyra felt a little guilty to admit that she kind of liked it."Lady and gentleman," Ali Ahmed said, stepping in front of them and sweeping his hands to either side like a tour guide. "Welcome to Dubai. I'll take you on a quick tour of the palace while Mohammed brings your bags to your rooms. Then I'll let you both get settled in.""Sir," Mohammed said, trotting to keep up. Ali Ahmed waved him off."I'm home, Mohammed. You don't have to shadow me here."With a small sigh, Mohammed headed off towards the palac
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