Читать книгу Modern Romance April 2017 Books 5 - 8 - Кейт Хьюит - Страница 16

CHAPTER SIX

‘GOODNESS.’

Gracie shaded her eyes from the glare of the sunlight with one hand as she glanced up at the royal jet of Alazar, a gleaming black machine with wavy red stripes on the tail and wings. Next to her Sam let out a low hiss of breath, a sound of awe and excitement.

All morning he’d been running around the apartment like a mad thing, jumping on the bed and the sofa while Gracie had thrown things in suitcases and wondered what on earth she was supposed to wear. Would they be staying at some palace? Would there be formal occasions? Or would it all be casual, hanging out by a pool and reading paperbacks? She had no idea about any of it, what to expect from the trip—and from Malik.

That morning she’d had the most awkward and bizarre conversation of her life with her parents, explaining who Sam’s father was and why they were now going to Alazar.

‘A sultan?’ Her father’s eyes had boggled. ‘Gracie, are you sure he’s not having you on?’

Gracie had almost laughed at that. Poor, stupid Gracie who had managed not just to get herself knocked up but duped, too, by some con man. She knew her father meant it well, but she was tired of the scepticism and doubt.

‘I’m quite sure, Dad,’ she’d replied a bit sharply. She had no doubt about who Malik was in that respect. She simply didn’t know who he was any more as a person, as a man—if she’d ever known.

But now she was going to find out. At least for two weeks.

‘We’re going on that plane?’ Sam asked in an awed voice. ‘That is awesome.’

‘I’m glad you think so.’

As they stood in front of the jet, Malik emerged from its interior, dressed in grey trousers and a button-down shirt open at the throat. His hair was swept back from his face, his eyes dark and fathomless under the slashes of his eyebrows, his mouth unsmiling as he came down the stairs towards them. Sam inched closer to Gracie.

‘Who is that...?’ he whispered. He sounded a little fearful.

‘That’s...’ The word stuck in her throat. Why did Malik have to look so ferocious? Where was that smile now? ‘That’s my friend.’

‘Hello, Sam.’ Malik came to stand before Sam, his mouth betraying not even a hint of a smile, his gaze intent and serious.

Sam looked up at him nervously. ‘How do you know my name?’

‘Your mother told me.’ Malik was silent for a moment, his gaze searching Sam’s face. ‘I’m very pleased to meet you.’

‘Okay.’ Sam glanced at his mother uncertainly. ‘Is this your plane?’

‘Yes.’

‘Wow.’

‘Would you like to see it?’

Sam’s eyes lit up and his uncertainty fell away. ‘Yeah!’

The tension that had been knotting Gracie’s shoulder blades eased a little bit as they walked up the steps into the plane. The inside of the jet was a study in unfettered luxury, and Sam’s mouth wasn’t the only one dropping open.

He exclaimed over the deep leather sofas, the velvet throw pillows and glass coffee tables, the bowls of exotic fruit and nuts scattered around. Gracie felt as if she were in a five-star hotel suite.

‘Wow.’ She managed a smile for Malik. ‘This is amazing.’

‘It is yours to enjoy.’ Malik gestured to one of the sofas. ‘Please, make yourself comfortable. Whatever you wish for, one of the stewards will be happy to provide.’

‘Anything?’ Sam’s eyes had gone ridiculously round. In addition to two white-jacketed stewards waiting attentively with silver trays and glasses of champagne, Gracie noticed the burly security guards who stood by the now closed door. A feeling of claustrophobia clawed at her insides and she forced it away. Of course there would be guards.

‘Relax,’ Malik murmured, and he placed one hand on her arm. The feel of his fingers on her skin sent an electrical charge skittering along her nerve endings. ‘You’re safe, Grace.’

‘This feels a little bit like a gilded prison,’ she returned lightly. Sam was busy exploring the interior of the plane and couldn’t hear her. ‘I suppose you get used to being surrounded by guards.’

‘It is, unfortunately, a necessity.’

A new thought struck her. ‘We’re not... Sam’s not in danger, is he? I mean, Alazar is a safe place?’ Why hadn’t she done an Internet search on it last night?

‘You will be completely safe at all times.’ Malik hesitated, and Gracie knew there was something else.

‘What?’ she demanded. ‘What are you not telling me?’

‘There has been some instability in the more remote regions of my country. Bedouin tribes warring as well as wishing for things to be more traditional. But it is peaceful now.’

‘Now? But it wasn’t?’

‘It will not concern you or Sam,’ Malik said smoothly. ‘I, along with my government, have worked hard these last few years to keep my country peaceful and help it to become modern.’

‘Oh.’ That all sounded rather important. ‘What kinds of things do you mean?’

He shrugged. ‘Developing a national healthcare system, increasing opportunities for education, trade agreements with the West. Some of the tribes do not like or want these things, but the people in the cities, such as the capital, Teruk, do. It is a balancing act.’ He took a step towards her, lowering his voice so Sam couldn’t overhear. ‘I look forward to showing both you and Sam my country. It is his heritage, after all. But I promise you, you will be safe at all times. That will be my highest priority.’ His gaze rested on hers, blazing with intent, and Gracie nodded, reassured.

‘Thank you.’ Maybe she needed to relax a little. Gracie let out the breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. She was in the middle of the most incredibly luxurious surroundings she’d ever been in. Maybe she needed to start enjoying the adventure Malik had given her, instead of assuming the worst.

‘Why don’t you come and explore the plane?’ Malik suggested. ‘We have a few moments before takeoff.’

‘Okay.’ Gracie nodded towards Sam, who was exploring the far side of the cabin. ‘When are you going to...?’

‘Soon.’ Malik rested his hand on her arm once more, and the same shivers raced through her body. Would she ever stop reacting to his touch? ‘Let’s get to know each other first. Relax a little bit.’

It made sense, even if she still felt keyed up. ‘All right.’

* * *

Malik felt as if he couldn’t trust the expression on his face as he walked behind Gracie and Sam. He felt an odd and unsettling mixture of elation and regret, both of them intense in the way they assailed him. He had just met his son. His son. Who looked just like him. Who seemed inquisitive and interesting and bright. Who seemed to accept all of this and, most important, him in one generous swoop of easy affection. Yet how would Sam react to the news that he was his father? The prospect of telling Sam the truth made Malik feel both overjoyed and afraid. After years of numbness, the emotion was almost too much to bear.

He caught Gracie frowning at him slightly, a look of concern in her eyes. Malik tried to smile, but his face felt stiff. His relaxed manner was nothing more than a façade, an act, because inside he felt as if he wanted to whoop or weep or both. He hadn’t expected to feel this rush of emotion, maybe even love, for a boy he’d never even seen before. The biological bonds were stronger than he’d expected. The role of father felt both strange and natural.

He felt the light touch of a hand on his, and he looked down to see Gracie squeezing his fingers, a tiny caress of support and understanding that affected him far too much. He managed a smile and with a small smile back she removed her hand. As soon as it was gone Malik missed it.

‘Wow,’ Sam exclaimed as they came into the media room. ‘That’s the biggest TV I’ve ever seen.’ He was soon asking Malik questions about everything, from how the satellite television worked to whether the plane adhered to international safety standards.

‘I believe it does,’ Malik answered solemnly before catching Gracie’s smiling gaze over Sam’s head. Suddenly he felt warm all over, not with simple lust for the woman whose touch he still remembered, but with happiness. It was such an unaccustomed feeling that it took him a moment to recognise it. He was enjoying himself. He hadn’t enjoyed himself this much in ten years...since he’d last been with Gracie.

‘He’s like this all the time,’ Gracie confided as Sam raced ahead to explore the next part of the jet. ‘Asking questions about everything.’

‘That is a good thing,’ Malik answered. ‘You have raised him well.’

Startled, Gracie glanced at him, a flush creeping over her face. ‘Well, thank you.’

‘You sound surprised.’

‘I suppose I’m not used to compliments.’

Malik frowned. ‘Why not?’

‘Well... I’m sort of known as “the Jones screw-up” back home.’ As if she felt she’d admitted too much, she let out a slightly forced laugh and looked away. ‘More of a joke than anything else, really, but it can still sting.’

Malik laid a staying hand on her arm. ‘Why would you be known as that?’ He realised he hated the idea of anyone putting Gracie down.

Sam was out of earshot in the small library. Malik waited, wanting to hear her confidence, to gain her trust, even if he hadn’t earned it yet. Even if he didn’t deserve it, considering how little he’d told her of his true plans.

‘It’s just that in a small town like Addison Heights, my situation was seen as...unfortunate,’ Gracie said at last.

‘Your situation?’

Wry exasperation lit her eyes as she looked up at him. ‘Malik, I came home from a backpacking trip through Europe pregnant with a stranger’s baby. I dropped out of university before I even had a chance to begin and have been scraping a living together ever since, while living above my parents’ garage. Yes, I’m seen as a screw-up. Not,’ she added fiercely, shaking off his arm, ‘that I regret anything. And I like my life. I like my job. I know you look down on it, but I wouldn’t change a bit of it. Sam is worth everything.’

‘Of course he is,’ Malik murmured. He felt a strange mixture of gratification and sadness for Gracie, for the little life she’d managed, through sheer strength of will and determination, to carve out for herself. But the mercenary part of him acknowledged that it would, perhaps, not be so difficult for her to leave it. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘None of it’s your fault. Well, besides the genes.’ She slid him a rueful smile. ‘Sam didn’t get his stubbornness or chronic ear infections from me.’

‘I might have contributed to those traits,’ Malik answered with a smile. ‘I was a rather sickly child.’

‘Good thing he looks like he’ll grow out of it,’ Gracie quipped. ‘I certainly wouldn’t call you sickly now.’

Her eyes dropped from his face and she did a quick once-over of his body that left Malik with a searing heat blazing through him. Gracie must have felt it, too, for her cheeks went pink and she looked away.

Desire swirled through his veins, a molten need he struggled to suppress. His attraction to Gracie was just as strong as it ever was, if not even stronger. Enforced celibacy during his time in the desert hadn’t helped.

Malik considered the matter as he and Gracie followed Sam to the library. Sex could complicate things, of course, especially for a woman, but if he and Gracie were to marry, they would have a normal union in that regard. He certainly didn’t intend to be celibate. A healthy, passionate marriage based on the bedrock of a shared child. It made sense...to him. And he would make sure it made sense to Gracie.

They spent a pleasant few minutes exploring the rest of the jet’s luxuries, ending up in the bedroom in the back with its sumptuous en-suite bathroom. Gracie glanced at the king-sized bed with its cream satin sheets and Malik saw a faint blush touch her cheeks once more. The desire that had quieted within him rose to a roar again.

Was she remembering that night in all of its exquisite detail? He was. Even now, ten years later, he could recall every poignant, pleasurable second of their night together, if he let himself. Right now he was dangerously tempted to indulge every sensual, perfect memory.

He turned away from the bed. ‘We should sit down for takeoff,’ he said. ‘But once we’re in the air, you can move around as you like. I’m sure there’s plenty you’d still like to see, Sam.’

‘This really is amazing,’ Gracie murmured. ‘Thank you.’

‘It is my pleasure.’

They took their seats in the main cabin of the plane. Sam sat by the window, his nose pressed to the glass as he scoured the airfield, eager for the next phase of this adventure to begin.

‘He’s never been on an airplane before,’ Gracie explained with a small smile. ‘He’s been bouncing around all day, wild with excitement.’

‘There will be many firsts on this trip,’ Malik answered. ‘I hope he enjoys them all with the same vigour.’

‘I’m sure he will.’ Gracie looked away, giving him the opportunity to study her. She was as beautiful and as vibrant as ever, even though she looked a little strained. The curve of her cheek, the sweep of her hair all felt familiar to him, and his palms itched with the memory of how they had once traced those curves and dips, learned them by heart.

He knew he had to stop letting those sweet memories affect him so much. Their power was a danger to him, and always had been. He could not allow himself to be torn in two by the needs of his country and the wants of his body. Duty and desire. Desire could perhaps be gratified, but duty always had to win.

‘We’re taking off!’ Sam exclaimed, and Gracie gave Malik a wry look that he returned, a smile tipping the corners of her mouth and buoying his heart. He’d forgotten how much Gracie made him smile, how she lightened him. She looked away quickly, and he knew she was as unsettled as he was by the spark that still existed between them, the bonds of remembrance stronger than either of them had anticipated. The past called to them both, a siren song Malik would make the most of.

He leaned forward, touching her knee lightly, noting and enjoying the way her body tensed beneath his hand. ‘He is a wonderful boy.’

Startled, she jerked back to look at him, her lips slightly parted, her eyes wide. ‘You can say that, after just a few minutes?’

‘Yes.’ He spoke solemnly, firmly and with utter conviction. She gave a short, breathy laugh.

‘Well, thank you, I guess. I don’t know how much of that is up to me.’ His hand was still on her knee, and he was loath to remove it. The warmth of her skin burned into his palm, his soul. He felt more alive now than he had in years.

Gracie glanced at Sam, who still had his nose pressed to the window, his hair flopping over his eyes. He pushed it back with an impatient hand.

‘He could fall in love with you,’ she said in a low voice. ‘With all of this.’ Her gaze was downcast, her lashes sweeping her cheeks. ‘When you tell him...I know he’ll be thrilled. It’s like a fairy tale come true, isn’t it? Your missing father turns out to be a king.’ Her voice trembled and so did her lips. She pressed them together. ‘Don’t break his heart, Malik, please.’

Malik felt as if his own heart had just suffered a serious knock. He didn’t deserve even the possibility of his son’s unstinting, easy affection. He didn’t know what to do with love. ‘I won’t,’ he said, his voice a rasp, even as he acknowledged to himself this was a promise he had no idea if he could keep.

Gracie shifted her legs and he let his hand fall away. ‘You’d better not,’ she whispered, and blinked back tears.

* * *

Malik sat back in his seat and Gracie kept her face averted, trying desperately to hold on to her composure. She’d known this would be difficult, but she hadn’t expected to feel so raw. So vulnerable, and in so many ways. Seeing Sam with Malik even so briefly had opened up a need inside her that she hadn’t let herself ever acknowledge. A need for Sam to have a father, for her to have an ally. A partner.

And you actually think that’s Malik?

The prospect was so ludicrous she would have laughed. All they’d had was a one-night stand. Yes, she’d seen glimpses of the old Malik, the fake Malik, or so she’d thought, today. When he stopped being so stern and autocratic, he could be gentle and funny and kind.

No. She couldn’t think like that. She was here for two weeks, and after that they’d come to some sort of custody arrangement. Gracie hadn’t dared to think that far ahead, but now she forced herself to envision it. Perhaps Sam would spend summers with Malik, the occasional Christmas. It would hurt, to lose her son during those times, but she could come to accept it. She recognised Sam needed a father, even if it was only a part-time one. But there would be nothing between her and Malik.

Yet even now she could feel the remembered warmth of Malik’s hand on her knee, the sureness of that light touch. It made her want to lean into the caress, ask for more. She really needed to get a grip.

‘I think I’ll have a walk around the plane,’ she said, and rose from her seat. She needed to get away from Malik. Away from her own circling, spiralling thoughts.

She strolled down the length of the plane, conscious of the stewards who deliberately didn’t look at her, their faces smooth and blank. The security guards she’d seen by the door had made themselves scarce, but she was still aware of their presence on the plane. This was a whole new world she was entering, and she didn’t know whether to be awed or afraid.

Eventually she ended up in the main bedroom in the back of the plane. The flight to Alazar was eighteen hours long, so she supposed they would all sleep at some point, even if she now felt too wired to so much as sit still. She pictured stretching out on that huge bed, and then before she could stop herself she pictured Malik next to her. She remembered how sinewy and powerful his body had been, muscles rippling, skin like bronzed satin under her questing hands, candlelight flickering over their naked bodies...

Stop it. You can’t afford to think that way.

‘Grace?’ Malik appeared in the doorway of the bedroom, startling her out of her dangerous thoughts. He took a step inside and closed the door behind him, cocooning them both in the quiet luxury of the room. Gracie’s gaze dropped to his powerful chest, the muscles of his arms and torso rippling under the expensive starched cotton of his shirt. A faint frown marred his sculpted features. ‘Are you all right?’

Gracie tried to banish the images that were still running through her mind in a traitorous, sensual reel. ‘Where’s Sam?’ she asked, her voice sounding strained.

‘He’s playing a video game in the media room.’

‘Oh. Great.’ She rubbed her hands over her face, fighting the sudden, stupid urge to burst into tears. She was all over the place, wanting one second, fearing the next, feeling too much.

‘You seem disturbed,’ Malik remarked, and Gracie straightened.

‘No, I’m fine.’ She would be. She had to get control of all these wayward feelings and wants. ‘A bit overwhelmed, maybe.’ Gracie tried for a laugh. ‘This is the most luxurious bedroom I’ve ever been in. It’s hard to believe it’s on a plane. That bed is huge.’

‘The bed is quite spacious.’ Malik’s voice was soft and he leaned against the door, his gaze turning hooded and sleepy. Why did she keep mentioning beds? ‘But I remember another bed, a bed that was just as big, a room that was just as luxurious.’ His gaze locked on hers and Gracie’s breath bottled in her lungs.

‘That was a long time ago, Malik.’ Her voice sounded shaky to her own ears.

‘It was, and yet right now it feels like it was yesterday. All day long I have been remembering, Grace. How you felt. How you tasted. How you responded to my touch.’ He took a step towards her and Gracie froze, the blood pounding through her veins, her pulse leaping wildly in her throat. ‘And,’ Malik continued softly, ‘I think you remember, too. Tell me you do.’

She was helpless beneath his hot gaze, everything in her yearning. ‘Yes, I do. But...’ It was the feeblest resistance. She couldn’t even finish the sentence.

‘But?’ Malik prompted. He was walking towards her with slow, sure strides. Gracie didn’t move. He stopped in front of her, close enough so she could feel his heat and her body swayed helplessly towards his. ‘But nothing. It is strong between us, Grace. It always has been.’ He held her by the shoulders, his expression fierce and primal.

Gracie’s heart started to thud hard as her body came in achingly close contact with Malik’s, her breasts brushing the hard plane of his chest. ‘Malik...’ she whispered, her voice a plea, her head dropping back and her lips parting in blatant invitation. He was right. It was as strong as ever. Need was crashing over her in desperate waves, her body longing for his touch, her mouth demanding his kiss.

And he gave it, his mouth coming down on hers, hard and hot and yet so sweet. Gracie scrabbled at his shoulders with her hands, drawing him closer, needing the feel of his powerful body against hers. The ache in her centre intensified as she felt his arousal thrusting against her. It had been so long since she’d felt this way. Since she’d wanted someone so much, and he’d wanted her. It had been ten whole years.

Malik skimmed his hands down her body, anchoring her hips against his as he plundered her mouth. With each deliberate thrust of his body against hers, pleasure spiked through her and she moaned. Was she going to humiliate herself by falling apart at the first touch of his hands? And yet it would be so wonderful.

Through the desire-dazed fog of her brain she realised Malik had stopped moving against her. He eased away, his breath coming out in a ragged shudder. ‘Not like this,’ he said in a low voice. ‘There is no need for us to rush.’

‘But we shouldn’t do this...’ The sentiment sounded paltry and token. It was. Because even though she knew they shouldn’t, that it would be complicated and difficult, she wanted to. So much.

Malik’s teeth gleamed as his mouth curved in a faint and yet proprietorial smile. ‘Your argument is not convincing. But there will be time to discuss that later. For now we can enjoy each other’s company in another way. A meal is being prepared in the dining room. Come and eat.’

He held out his hand, and, with her heart feeling as if it were beating its way up her throat, Gracie took his hand and let him lead her from the bedroom.