CHAPTER 2

"You do not do any good

   In liking, someone

  Nor me, nor me, nor me

Who invented love was not I

It was not me, it was not me.

  It was not me or anyone. "

(Dorival Caymmi, Nor me)

BIANCA

I move my body slowly in soft sheets and my skin shivers as it grazes on the satin, which caresses my body. I open my eyes slowly, fantasizing that last night was just a crazy nightmare and when I take courage, I lean on my elbows, I look at the sofa and I see that everything I have lived was the purest reality.

I was kidnapped by a king of a country that I never even knew existed, he is without a doubt the most beautiful man I have ever seen in my life and all this would be rather bizarre if that guy was not now watching me with the calmest face on earth, after telling me loud and clear that my days are numbered.

He looks at me in disbelief and I realize that he has already bathed and changed.

His hair is still damp, which gives me a strange urge to see if it is as soft as I imagine, and yesterday's traditional clothes made room for a three-piece lead-coloured suit with perfect tailor cut.

The Italian leather shoes and the sky blue tie give it a contemporary, cosmopolitan, business-like air, quite different from the almost surreal figure I was introduced to, yesterday.

And I honestly do not know if he is more irresistible in typical clothes or in that suit of pulling sighs. I think that anyway; this guy is thought-provoking to the bone and period.

Nahan walks over and sits on the edge of my bed, making me tense with our sudden closeness. Now that he's so close his delicious male scent completely takes over my system, I realize we're all alone, locked in a room and staring at each other as if flirting with each other.

- Good morning, Bianca.

I open my mouth, thinking how I should really call him, I give up and shut up. He senses my hesitation and I can almost see a slight sign of a smile on his face. I try to be polite, does he give back my life if I win his sympathy? I need to play this with all the cards in my favour, that shadow of a smile can be something positive for me after all.

-Good morning, King, Your Majesty.

He raises his eyebrow, curious and looks at me with amused air.

- King, Your Majesty? Wow! It's too much for one man. Call me Nahan, only Nahan, Bianca.

-Nahan, I have heard that the Arab names have interesting meanings, what is the meaning of your name?

He comes closer and I sit on the bed, pulling the sheet to cover the curve of my breasts, which I caught him looking disguised. Nahan asks, trying to sound serious:

-You promise not to laugh?

I nod and he explains me waiting for my reaction.

- Sweet as honey.

- What? How?

-I was a baby, damn! My mother did not imagine that I would become a kind of difficult guy, let's put it this way.

I keep looking at him, trying to figure out in what basement Nahan has locked this sweetness, at what corner of his life the crudity, the brutality has taken over.

-It does not seem to have much to do with your highness.

-Do not make me feel like an old baboon, I'm only 34 years old Bianca, call me, you. By the way, I have not had coffee yet. Jafar brought some clothes for you this morning, they're in the closet. Take a shower and dress something light, I'll be waiting for you in the living room.

Why is he being so polite and assertive, he already made it clear that he will use me for some misguided revenge against the Hassan family, what is his real intention in posing as a gentle man? Nahan attitude is very strange. First comes with this laid-back coffee break to me, and then what? Torture session with me? I do not fall for this, I prefer to stay here in the room.

-I'd rather stay in the room if your majesty, I mean, if you don’t mind, Nahan.

- Yes, I mind. Of course, I do. I'm waiting for you downstairs, don’t even think about trying to escape, the castle is surrounded by guards everywhere, one of them will accompany you, I'll wait for you in the living room.

Nahan does not give me time to argue, leaving me confused, after all what does this man want from me?

I think the best attitude is to keep him calm, maybe he even returns me back to Brenda sooner than I think. I take it that he left and I go to the closet, almost the size of my suite in Vila Isabel.

I look at what blessed light clothes I'm going to wear, and when I open the sliding doors, I find a lot of women's clothes in well-kept shelves, I look at the clothes and they're all still labelled, everything so ostentatious, so expensive, I ask myself: why? Give clothes to a woman if you intend to kill her? This is so crazy, I prefer to delude myself that everything is just a big misunderstanding.

I pick up a green dress with thin straps, knee-high, steamy, with a sensual but discreet cleavage. I go to the bathroom and look at a nababesque bathtub, taps in the sink, golden fish-shaped, each bath foam smelling nicer than the other.

But since Nahan is waiting for me to have his coffee, I decide to take a quick shower and take a bath in the tub, later. My hair is still damp and I keep it loose. Finally, I wear some delicate sandals.

I'm ready to face whatever comes! I don’t know who I'm lying to that way, blatantly!

I'm scared of what’s to come, but I need to keep the minimum of control, fight with the best weapons I have and rely on the luck factor. As soon as I leave the room I am led by a silent, frowning guard.

As much as I fear Nahan, watching him as I enter the living room, I stare at him and I can’t see cruelty in his eyes.

A palpable pain, a lot of anger, indignation, a desire for revenge, but raw and naked wickedness, I don’t see it in his eyes.

He gets up and pulls the chair toward me, I sit, arched back, waiting for the worst, nerves tense like the strings of a violin, a terrifying silence between us. A table was laid with all sorts of delicacies, flowers adorned the delicate linen tablecloth. Nahan watches me and serves me a cup of coffee, which smells so good even from a distance, and I look at the cup, as if in this hot black liquid I could glimpse my future, asking Nahan silently for answers.

- Bianca, have your coffee, I will not do you any harm, please eat.

I manage, with a shaky voice, to ask him what I want to know.

-You're going to set me free or you decided that you'll get me ...

I can’t complete this sentence, is my heart so stupid? Why do I still believe that everything will end well? Is it hope, the crutch of fools? I prefer to believe in the human being.

-I can’t release you, you're not going back to Qatar.

I get up in shock and look at him trying to hold back the tears, I begin to release the fear, the revolt, the scream, that in years of passivity I insisted on restraining. King Nahan don’t expect from me the subservience of a peaceful little lamb going to slaughter. I'll fight, I'll scream, he's got to hear me.

-You must listen to me, Nahan, where is your humanity? Your soul? How can you do this to me, I have nothing to do with your battles, I ... I ... Let me go ... let me go.

Nahan gets up and takes me in his arms in a jolt, he sits me on the coffee table and leans on my waist, I start shaking, punching his shoulders, futilely trying to move that wall of a man, but even so I continue to purge my revolt.

- Bianca, stop it! Stop, look at me, look at me.

What was meant to be a fight, a clash, takes another turn ... My breasts squeezed close to Nahan's chest, my nipples stiffening awkwardly, sensitive to brush against his body, my God!

What is it?! He pulls my hair back, and i stare at him for long minutes, his face inches from mine, his brown eyes narrowing in a predatory gesture, as if he wanted to devour me whole.

I can’t tell who moved first, but around us there is so much waiting, an aura of raw and pungent sensuality rises enveloping us, overwhelming and irresistible. I close my eyes and he orders in a hoarse voice:

-Open your eyes and look at me.

And so, his lips touch mine, like a spring breeze: sweet and soft. So soft and so perfect Nahan's mouth on mine.

I open my lips in surprise, and he slides his tongue into my mouth, watching me in languid movements, I taste the warmth of his tongue and we gasp together, our lips docked in synchrony.

It has never been so perfect, no one has ever kissed me like that, with such delivery, a sexy and addictive blend of warmth, desire and delicacy. As if my mouth was something rare, precious, I bite into his lips and he lets out a hoarse groan, his hands coming down from the back of my neck and running down my back, making me shiver.

After we kiss a little more and still wanting more, Nahan nibbles at my lips, between moans and unresolved whispers. His eyes spilling into heat, scorching my entire body.

My sex pulsating, begging for something I can’t have, but still, I want it more than anything, to taste and dive a little more in these sensations, without thinking about tomorrow.

-You will not leave, I can’t let you go, don’t hate me, I will not do you any harm, but I want you to understand that your home is now here in Manama.

- But there is my sister, my family, I live in Brazil, my place is not here Nahan.

-Shhh, no! Do not ask me to free you, it will not be possible.

-Why not?

Because I need to feel again, I need to be human again, to be a man, not this bag of bones and empty flesh. Because you make me a less miserable being and I'm a selfish bastard that even after losing everyone I loved, I did not give up living, yet knowing that it was the right thing to have died with them both. I want so much to explain to her that Jafar's error in abducting her by mistake brought the joy of a chance into my days. I can’t let her go because now that I've tasted her mouth, I've smelled her, I've become captive, I've become a prisoner, I don’t want to be free. I can’t kill her, I don’t want to leave her, and I don’t want to lose her.

- Because I can’t. You are my guest, involuntary, and so you will remain, accept this.

I disengage myself from his arms and flee, I run as if escaping the devil, why did he have to kiss me like that?

And worst of all, why do I still want more and so much, that it scares me?

I do not know what to think or say, I go back to my room and lie down in bed, lost and frightened by the whole twist my life took.

What if he does not let me go any further? What will I ultimately do with my life? I look for the answers and I don’t find them.

Almost half an hour later, my bedroom door opens and Nahan comes in, balancing a breakfast tray in his hands. He puts it on the nightstand, looks at me with his hands in his pants pocket and before leaving me alone again, adds:

-Eat it, we'll talk later, and do not lock the door.

- Yes sir.

God! I do not deserve such a torment, she is calling me sir with her mouth making an angry pout and it drives me crazy, I need to get out of here before I scare her any more than I already did.

What a delicious mouth, I want to kiss her again, but I can’t, we can’t and yet I want to taste her lips again, just one more time.