Читать книгу Modern Romance April 2017 Books 5 - 8 - Кейт Хьюит - Страница 15

CHAPTER FIVE

HE HAD TO PLAY this very carefully. Malik watched as Gracie’s lovely eyes widened and her jaw dropped. For a few seconds she didn’t speak. The sommelier took the opportunity to come forward with the very expensive bottle of wine Malik had ordered. He poured a generous mouthful into Malik’s glass and Malik drank, his eyes on Gracie as she snapped her mouth closed and stared at him, flummoxed and fuming.

‘Very good,’ Malik said, dismissing the sommelier. The other staff retreated to a discreet distance. Gracie leaned forward, her hazel eyes glinting with both shock and outrage.

‘We can’t just come to Alazar.’

Malik bit back the autocratic retorts that sprang so quickly to his lips. Since hearing about his son he’d wanted to do nothing more than drag Gracie and Sam onto the royal jet as quickly as possible and get them back to Alazar, safe and secure. He’d been tempted more than once since coming to America to do just that, and damn Gracie’s finer feelings. Fortunately he’d learned both restraint and discretion in ten years of managing warring Bedouin tribes. He needed to play a long game now, and for the moment, at least, he needed Gracie’s cooperation.

‘Why not?’ he asked.

Gracie’s fair eyebrows rose. ‘Why not?’ she repeated, as if she could scarcely believe the question.

Malik nodded. ‘Yes. Why not?’

It was a simple question, and yet still she boggled. ‘Because...because he has school and I have a job and friends and a life...and we just can’t.’

She was afraid. Malik saw it in her eyes and the way her hands clenched on the tabletop before she hid them in her lap. But what exactly was Gracie afraid of? Did she suspect what he intended? She must, at least a little. Surely she had to realise the life she’d been living no longer existed. Nothing could be the same for her ever again. Judging from what he’d seen of her life so far, that was not necessarily a bad thing.

‘I think you can,’ Malik said smoothly. He kept his voice low, pleasant and mild. He felt almost as if he were taming one of the Bedouin’s wild Arabians. The halter he would slip on later, when it was too late for her to bolt. ‘It is almost the summer holiday, is it not?’

‘Yes...’

‘So Sam will be out of school and you will be free from work.’ She said nothing, and he continued, deliberately gentling his voice, ‘Why not have a two-week holiday? Give Sam the opportunity to discover his roots and get to know his father?’ A tremor went through him at that thought, but he masked it. ‘Surely that is a reasonable request, Grace.’

She gazed down into her wine, clearly battling against the idea. ‘What happens after that?’ she asked in a low voice. ‘You can’t just breeze in and out of Sam’s life.’

‘I have no intention of doing that,’ Malik returned evenly. No intention at all. He paused, not wanting to lie to her face and yet knowing she could in no way handle the truth at this point. ‘I intend to be part of Sam’s life from now on. How that manifests itself remains to be seen and is subject to both of our agreement, of course.’

Relief flickered through her eyes, followed by dawning fear. ‘You mean...a custody arrangement?’

Malik spread his hands. ‘Let us use these next two weeks to decide together the best way forward.’ He paused for only a moment before continuing, ‘This could be enjoyable for all of us, Grace. An adventure, yes? A chance to show Sam some of the world and to experience it yourself. Why resist?’

* * *

Why resist? It felt like a siren song, but it was also starting to sound sensible. A two-week luxury holiday was certainly something Sam hadn’t experienced, and Malik was right. Both he and Sam needed a chance to get to know each other. Yet Gracie still resisted instinctively, out of fear. Fear for her son but also fear for herself. She had not been able to resist this man once before. She was afraid she might not resist him again...and now so much more was at stake. Her son. Her life.

But...two weeks. It wasn’t a lifetime, and she liked the thought of showing her family and neighbours that she wasn’t quite the screw-up they all silently seemed to think she was. Instead of being a struggling single mom, she had a glamorous and important man arrive to sweep both her and Sam away, at least for a little while. Was she shallow to care about that? Did it make her weak?

In that moment she didn’t care. Malik was waiting for her response, his silvery gaze resting intently on her, and his reasons made sense.

‘All right,’ she said, and released the breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. ‘We’ll come for two weeks.’

Malik’s answering smile broke over her like a wave, left her dazed and reeling. He was irresistible when he smiled. His eyes lightened and he reminded her of who he’d used to be. Who she’d once thought he was. Dangerous, that smile. She’d have to develop an immunity to it.

‘Thank you, Grace,’ Malik said, and he leaned over and squeezed her hand. That was dangerous, too, the slide of his fingers over hers making Gracie want to shiver. Tremble. More memories tumbled through her mind, a sensual kaleidoscope she had to suppress. She couldn’t survive two weeks with Malik al Bahjat if he was going to turn on the charm.

‘When would you like us to go?’ she asked, determined to recapture a little of the brisk practicality she’d been hoping to have for this meeting.

‘Tomorrow.’

‘What?’ So much for that. ‘We can’t go tomorrow, Malik. Sam doesn’t even have a passport.’

‘That can be arranged.’

Gracie shook her head, unsure whether to be impressed or terrified by the extent of Malik’s power. She was both. ‘Why do we have to move so fast? And what am I to tell Sam? And my family—’

‘The truth.’ For a second an edge of iron entered Malik’s voice, reminding Gracie just who she was dealing with. He could turn on the charm, and he could just as easily and quickly turn it off.

‘Which is?’ she demanded, refusing to be cowed. ‘Do I tell Sam you’re his father?’

‘I’ll tell him,’ Malik stated. ‘When the time is right. And why not tell your parents you’ve been swept away by a sheikh for the holiday of a lifetime?’

He smiled again, and she was not immune. Not yet, anyway. ‘So not the truth, then.’

‘A version of it, at least.’

‘Some version.’ She shook her head, sensing how futile it was to resist Malik’s will and yet needing to try anyway, for her own sake. ‘You’re being unreasonable. I have to give notice at school—there’s still a week left. And Sam, as well...’

‘Like I said, it can be arranged. I am the leader of a country, Grace. I cannot wait around here while Sam finishes a couple days of school.’ Their first course arrived with a flourish, and Gracie glanced down at the oysters lying in their shells on a bed of crushed ice.

She glanced at Malik’s plate of langoustines and did not know which dish looked more awkward to eat. ‘Well, this is an adventure,’ she said with a touch of acerbity, and Malik laughed, a rich, full-bodied sound that had her blinking in surprise. She’d never heard him laugh like that.

‘I think you’ll like them,’ he said. ‘Do you know how to eat them?’

‘There’s a method?’

‘Only if you don’t want to get them all over yourself.’ He leaned across, taking the tiny fork that had been left with the plate and freeing an oyster from its shell. Gracie expected him to sit back, but instead he took the oyster in his hand and lifted it to her lips. She jerked back in surprise.

‘What...?’

‘You just slurp it down,’ he said, his voice low and sensual. His eyes, hot and heavy-lidded, were on her. Gracie felt entirely discomfited.

‘Slurp it,’ she repeated, unconvinced. She did not think she would look particularly attractive slurping raw fish from Malik’s hand. But why did she care about looking attractive?

‘Go ahead, Grace,’ Malik murmured. ‘I think you’ll like it.’ Was she imagining the suggestive note in his voice, the hint of humour, the promise of sensuality? Why was he doing this? He had to be toying with her. The realisation both annoyed and hurt and in one gulp she took the oyster in her mouth and it slithered down her throat.

‘Delicious?’ Malik prompted, and Gracie tried not to make a face. She wasn’t as adventurous as all that, apparently. ‘They’re an aphrodisiac, you know.’

‘So I’ve heard,’ Gracie returned tartly. ‘I remain unconvinced.’

‘You need convincing?’

Her heart lurched, tangling with her ribs. ‘Don’t, Malik,’ she said quietly, not daring to say more, and Malik sat back, watching her with a thoughtful, assessing gaze.

For lack of anything else to do she ate another oyster on her own. Malik took one of his langoustines and cracked it open in one swift movement, neatly extracting the tail meat.

‘I think you’ve lived a very quiet life for the last ten years,’ he said.

‘If you mean I haven’t gone to places like this and eaten oysters, then you’d be right,’ Gracie retorted, stung.

‘It wasn’t meant to be a criticism.’

‘Funny, it felt like one. I’ve liked my life fine, you know, but obviously I still seem like a country bumpkin to you.’ She heard the throb of hurt in her voice and closed her eyes. Why had she said that?

‘Grace.’ Malik’s voice was like a caress. ‘I never thought of you like that.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’ She plucked another oyster and popped it into her mouth. She was almost starting to like these suckers. ‘As you said before, that was the past, and this is the present. The last thing either of us needs to do now is a postmortem on that ill-conceived night a million years ago.’

Malik tilted his head. ‘Ill-conceived?’ he repeated softly, and Gracie flushed.

‘Of course I didn’t mean it like that. Sam is the best thing that ever happened to me.’

‘And to me,’ Malik said with such heartfelt sincerity that Gracie was left blinking, her mouth opening and closing without a word coming out.

‘But you don’t even know him,’ she managed.

‘I will remedy that situation tomorrow,’ Malik returned. ‘Happily.’

‘And who do I tell him you are?’ Gracie asked. ‘How do I explain this huge holiday?’

‘Do ten-year-old boys need explanations for holidays?’ Malik asked with a whimsical lift of his brows. ‘I doubt he will question it.’

Gracie acknowledged this truth silently. Sam would be thrilled to go on holiday. He certainly wouldn’t care how or why it came to pass. Maybe she really needed to let go of her resistance. Because it was her resistance, not Sam’s. She was afraid of Malik. Afraid of being tempted. Hurt. And that simply wasn’t a good enough reason to dig in her heels.

She knew then that she could not deny her son his heritage or his birthright simply because of her own nervousness—and attraction.

‘Very well,’ she said, and tried to ignore the shiver of apprehension—and excitement—that went through her at the simple fact of her acquiescence.

‘Good. I will arrange for you and Sam to be picked up tomorrow morning.’

‘Where will you be?’

‘I have business to see to, but I will meet you at the airstrip, on the royal jet.’

The royal jet. Could things get any more fantastic? Gracie swallowed dryly. She could hardly believe she was agreeing to this, and yet she felt a quiver of excitement low in her belly...and wondered just exactly what she was excited about. ‘Very well,’ she said again, and Malik subjected her to another brilliant smile.

* * *

‘You have convinced her?’ Asad demanded. Malik gazed at his grandfather’s face on the screen of his laptop and tried to ignore the churning mixture of guilt and anticipation that had soured his gut since he’d left Gracie two hours before.

She’d looked so unsure, fragile and hopeful at the same time. As she’d slipped out of the limo, one slender hand on the door, Malik had fought the urge to take her in his arms and kiss her. In that moment he had remembered exactly how soft her lips had felt, and how sweet she’d tasted. And he’d wanted to reacquaint himself with both sensations.

‘See you tomorrow?’ she’d said, a questioning lilt in her voice, as if she could scarcely believe she was really going with him.

‘Tomorrow,’ Malik had promised, and he’d waited until she’d gone into her flat before he’d ordered the driver to start the journey back to his five-star hotel in Chicago.

‘Yes.’ Malik’s reply was terse. He’d convinced Gracie to come to Alazar, but there was so much she still didn’t know—that Sam was his heir, that Sam’s place and her own had to be in his country. That they would marry. Considering how much resistance she’d put up to a two-week visit, Malik could only imagine her reaction when he told her of his true intentions.

And yet...he’d seen excitement in Gracie’s eyes. Desire, too. She remembered how it had been between them. And he believed she was eager for new experiences, perhaps even a new life. Convincing her of all the advantages would be a challenge, but one he was capable of rising to. He had to be.

‘You will marry as soon as you arrive,’ Asad stated, and Malik forced the irritation from his voice as he answered levelly.

‘We will marry when I decree the time is right.’

‘Sam must be legitimised as soon as possible—’

‘I know.’ Realistically Malik knew he could enforce his will as soon as Gracie was on the royal jet. She’d have few alternatives other than to do as he commanded, and yet he resisted that roughshod approach. It would only embitter Gracie, and perhaps Sam, as well. Time was of the essence, but he hoped he could accomplish what he needed to in a gentler manner. Not, he acknowledged, that he even knew how to be gentle.

Playing soft with Gracie tonight had been an exercise in dramatics, and yet he’d found he’d meant some of it. He’d certainly enjoyed those brief touches, and the light flirting. Watching her eat oysters had been an exquisite torture.

‘In any case,’ he told Asad, ‘I must end the engagement to Johara before I marry another. That will be a delicate matter.’

‘True.’ A cough racked Asad’s body. ‘Still, you must work quickly. Any whispers of instability...’

‘I know.’ The country’s peace was still a new and untested thing. The sooner Malik was married with an heir in place, the better. ‘Leave it to me, Grandfather. I can manage it.’

With a terse farewell Malik disconnected the video call. Staring out at the lights of the city, he realised he could not ease his regret and uncertainty. He didn’t like deceiving Gracie, and yet he knew he had no choice. Alazar had to come first.

Restlessly Malik rose from his seat and paced the elegant confines of his penthouse suite. He didn’t like being reminded of the boy he’d once been. He’d been so innocent at twenty-two, so woefully inexperienced in every way. His life had been about training and waiting, and then he’d been catapulted into the harsh realities of adulthood when Alazar had been plunged into near civil war.

Being with Gracie tonight had brought him back to that boy. Made him feel hope and desire and something deeper than either, and that was dangerous. He needed Gracie, yes, but only as a matter of expediency. He had no intention of feeling anything for her, of giving in to emotion or, worse, love. Those feelings were signs of weakness and led to destruction. His father had certainly shown him that. Malik could still remember the look of utter despair on his father’s face, the sobs that had continually racked his body. The shell of a person he’d become. All he intended to feel for Gracie, he assured himself, was simple sexual desire—and that would soon be sated. Nothing else would ever be up for discussion.

* * *

‘Mom?’ Sam looked up from his bowl of cereal, his dark eyebrows raised.

He looked like Malik, something that had always been impossible to ignore even though Gracie had certainly tried. Floppy dark hair, bronzed skin, a tall, rangy build, a sense of confidence and ability that was innate. Yes, Sam was most certainly Malik’s son. A son of Alazar.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Yes.’ Gracie took a deep breath and tried for a smile. ‘Actually, I need to talk to you.’

It was eight o’clock on Friday morning and Sam was dressed for school. How on earth could she explain to him that instead he would be getting on a plane and travelling to a country he’d probably never heard of...with his father? But, no. The last part was for Malik to tell.

‘What is it?’ Sam asked, sensing her hesitation.

‘How...how would you like to go on a holiday? An amazing holiday?’

Sam’s eyebrows drew together in a way that was eerily reminiscent of Malik. ‘Is this a trick question?’

‘No.’

‘What kind of amazing holiday?’

‘To a place called Alazar.’

‘Alazar!’ Sam’s face brightened. ‘It has the highest mountain in the Middle East.’

‘Does it?’ Gracie smiled and shook her head. Of course her son had heard of Alazar and knew some obscure geographical fact about it. Of course he was going to be wildly excited about going. ‘Well, how would you like to visit there?’

‘Really?’ Sam’s eyes rounded as he bounced in his chair. ‘Just like that? When do we go?’

‘Um...today.’

‘Today!’ Sam stared at her in grinning disbelief and then bounced again, harder this time, so Gracie had to fling out one hand to keep the chair’s balance. ‘That is awesome. When do we leave?’

‘A car is coming for us around lunchtime.’

‘So we need to pack!’ Sam rose from his chair. ‘How much stuff should I bring?’

She had no idea. Would he need formal clothes? What would they be doing for two whole weeks? Swallowing down the butterflies that threatened to overwhelm her, Gracie rose from her chair and poured herself a much-needed second cup of coffee. ‘A little bit of everything, I guess. I don’t actually know anything about Alazar.’ Except its Sultan. ‘I suppose it will be pretty hot.’

Sam, halfway to his bedroom, stopped and turned around. ‘Why are we going there?’ he asked, and Gracie couldn’t tell if he was suspicious or just interested. ‘If you didn’t know anything about it?’

‘Well.’ Gracie took a sip of coffee to stall for time. She’d stayed up until the small hours of the morning thinking about how to explain this to Sam—as well as reliving every moment she’d spent with Malik. ‘I have a friend who is in the government there, and he’s invited us to stay.’

‘Really?’ Sam goggled at her. ‘How did you meet someone like that?’

‘I met him a long time ago, during my travels in Europe.’

‘Wow. So cool. I can’t wait to tell everyone at school!’

‘Yes, but you’ll miss the last week of school, Sam—’

‘Oh, who cares.’ Sam dismissed with a shrug. ‘We never do anything then anyway.’ And then, whistling, he disappeared into his bedroom. Gracie sank into her chair, clutching her coffee cup. That had been remarkably easy, just as Malik had predicted. And yet there was still so much that was unknown, so many hurdles to jump. But one step at a time, she told herself. One inch at a time if necessary. She didn’t think she could handle any more.