Читать книгу Modern Romance April 2017 Books 5 - 8 - Кейт Хьюит - Страница 17
ОглавлениеTHE MOOD WAS PERFECT. Candlelight, crystal, delicious food. Sam had eaten a child’s meal of chicken nuggets and chips beforehand and was happily ensconced in the media room with an array of the latest DVDs, video games and books. The jet’s dining room was intimate, curtains drawn across the windows, making it feel like a private parlour in the sky. They were as alone as they could be...which was what Malik wanted.
His blood was still heated from that delicious encounter with Gracie in the bedroom. He had not anticipated seducing her so soon, and in fact he’d felt as if he’d been the one to be seduced. His desire for Gracie had overwhelmed him until he’d been acting out of base instinct and incredible need. But then so had she.
Still he needed to be careful and deliberate with his plans. He needed to convince Gracie that a convenient marriage could work between them without complicating it with emotion or love, which he suspected she would want. Somehow he would convince her of the sense and appeal of his plan. Their kiss earlier was just the beginning.
Gracie stood in the doorway of the dining room and glanced uncertainly at the crystal and silver-laid table. ‘This is...nice,’ she ventured, and Malik pulled out her chair.
‘I’m glad you think so.’
Slowly she walked towards the chair and sat down. Malik took the liberty of placing her napkin in her lap, his fingers brushing her thighs. He felt a tremor go through her, and it gave him an almost savage satisfaction. ‘You are still affected by me, Grace.’
‘I think you had already figured that out.’ Her breath came out in a shudder. ‘Some things never change, I guess.’
‘I am glad.’ He sat down opposite her and poured them both wine.
Gracie eyed the glass full of ruby-red liquid askance. ‘You used to call me Gracie.’
The name made him think of sweeter, more innocent times. He could not go back to being that boy again. ‘Yes,’ he agreed with an incline of his head, and said nothing more.
‘You’ve changed, Malik.’ The statement, given so matter-of-factly, shook him more than he cared to admit. ‘Or maybe you haven’t, and that boy I knew back in Rome never existed.’ The tremulous note of hurt in her voice made him tense. ‘We’ve never talked about that, you know. Why...why did you push me away? Tell me to go? I mean,’ she continued in a rush, taking a sip of wine, ‘I wasn’t expecting hearts and roses. Well, not exactly. But I thought we shared something more special than...than it seemed in that moment.’
Malik remained silent, his mind racing as he considered how to answer her question. He hadn’t expected her to be so honest, and in a reckless moment he decided to return her honesty with his own.
‘We did share something unique.’
‘Yeah, right.’ She shook her head, clearly disbelieving, trying for bravado even though he saw an alarming vulnerability in her eyes. ‘Just tell me this, at least. Was I... Was I really your first?’
A tightness formed in Malik’s chest. ‘Yes.’ Gracie’s gaze searched his face, looking for truth. ‘I told you I’d lived a sheltered life, Grace. Nothing I said that night was a lie.’
‘Then why were you so cold the next morning? Why did you basically boot me out of your bed? I mean, you could have given me the “it was fun, but” speech. I think I could have taken it.’ Her voice wobbled slightly and she pushed a tendril of wavy golden-brown hair behind one delicate ear. ‘Maybe not, though. Maybe you thought a quick cut would be better, especially with your grandfather in the room.’
‘That night was like a dream to me,’ Malik said slowly, choosing his words with care. ‘A time out of reality. Waking up, discovering my grandfather there, that was what life was really like. And the truth was I’d acted very foolishly, being seen in public with you.’
Gracie jerked back at this. ‘Ouch.’
‘Not because of who you were, but who I was. Am. I could not be seen dallying with a Western woman. Such news, if it reached Alazar, had the potential to create civil unrest among my people who wanted a more traditional heir to the throne.’
‘And what about now? Bringing your Western son back to your country? Won’t that be greeted with a few raised eyebrows?’
She was quick, he had to give her that. ‘Potentially, yes,’ Malik said calmly. ‘But the information to the public will be controlled. No one will know Sam is my son until I want them to know.’
Her eyes widened as another thought assailed her. ‘Will there be publicity? For Sam? I can’t stand the thought of him being hounded by the press...’
‘He will not be hounded.’
‘Why does anyone need to know? It’s not like Sam is going to be living in Alazar.’
Malik pressed his lips together. This conversation was starting to become dangerous. ‘His life has changed, Grace, as have yours and mine. We cannot pretend that is not the case.’
‘I know.’ She toyed with her wine glass. ‘I just don’t want it to change too much.’
‘Don’t you?’ he asked quietly, and she glanced up, her eyes narrowing.
‘What do you mean by that?’
Malik spread his hands, keeping his voice mild. ‘You intimated before that your life was less than satisfactory. It’s been hard being a single parent. Maybe there will be good changes ahead, for both of us.’
‘Maybe,’ Gracie allowed, and he could see she was turning that idea around in her mind. ‘And maybe not.’
He decided not to push it any further for now. Gently, gently was the way forward.
‘Tell me about the last ten years,’ Gracie said after a moment. ‘Not just the government stuff, although I know that is of course a big part.’ She gave a light laugh. ‘But you. What have you been doing? What are your hobbies, your interests?’
Malik blinked, entirely discomfited by such a question. ‘Hobbies?’ he repeated. ‘I don’t have any.’
‘You must.’
He thought about the twenty-hour days he’d had, negotiating peace treaties with various tribes, sleeping rough, on constant alert. ‘What are yours?’
‘Oh. Well, I like to do needlepoint. I find it soothing.’ She smiled impishly. ‘You could try it.’
He smiled back, enjoying this unexpected banter. ‘Perhaps I will.’
She laughed again, the rich gurgle he remembered from so long ago. ‘Now I really can’t picture that.’
‘What else do you like to do?’ Malik asked. He was genuinely curious.
‘Oh, the usual. Movies, books, dinners out.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I sound like I’m completing a dating profile for the Internet. I suppose I’m pretty boring.’
‘Not at all.’ He found her anything but.
‘Gardening, when I can, although my mother is possessive about her vegetable plot.’
He thought of the extensive gardens at the royal palace, modelled on the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. ‘Perhaps one day you’ll have a plot of your own.’
‘Yeah, maybe.’ She didn’t sound convinced. ‘I like to spend time with Sam, really, as much as I can. Though I volunteer at the day centre for the disabled in town. And I read books to elderly people on Saturdays.’
‘You sound busy.’
‘I enjoy helping people. I’m never going to be a brain surgeon or something, but I like doing small things that make a difference.’
She sounded just as she had ten years ago. ‘And what kind of things do you and Sam do together?’
‘Anything and everything. As you might have noticed, he’s a constantly moving ball of energy.’ A smile curved her mouth as her face softened with love, making her even more desirable. ‘He loves trivia of all kinds, especially geography. And we play board games together.’ Her eyes lit up. ‘There’s your new hobby. Playing strategy games with your son.’ Gracie paused, hesitant now, and yet also determined. ‘It would be good for the two of you to spend time together, you know.’
‘That is what I intend.’ And yet he had not envisioned himself playing board games with his son. He had not pictured any sort of family scene; he didn’t even know what one would be like. He had no reference, considering his own lonely childhood. And yet sitting here, basking in the warmth of Gracie’s smile, he realised he would like to do that, very much.
Their first course came, and over a salad of couscous and cucumber Gracie asked him about Alazar. ‘It sounds like a pretty harsh place. But you mentioned a capital city?’
‘Yes, the royal palace is in Teruk, which is very beautiful. The Old City has some of the best preserved architecture in all of the Middle East.’
‘And what about the rest of the country?’
‘The interior of Alazar is mainly desert, surrounded by mountains. Inhospitable, and yet Bedouin tribes have made their home there for thousands of years.’
Gracie’s smile wavered. ‘And they’re the source of the instability you were talking about.’
‘Yes, but just before coming here I negotiated a peace. The tribes merely want to be assured that their way of life can continue.’
‘And can it?’ Gracie asked frankly. ‘What with all the changes you are trying to make?’
‘I hope it can. We cannot let all the old ways die, and there is little point in Westernising people who will live all their lives in the desert. The people of Teruk are a different matter.’
‘Are they happy to modernise?’
‘I believe so, yes.’ Malik took a sip of wine. He was enjoying discussing these things with her, he realised. It was so different than the terse or even hostile exchanges he had with his grandfather. ‘Some people, of course, welcome change more than others. There is a new school being started for young women, for example, that they are very pleased about.’
‘That’s good.’
‘Of course, there is still a long way to go in other matters of education,’ Malik continued. ‘Special needs, for a start.’
Interest sparked in her eyes, as Malik had known it would. Was he manipulating her, or simply presenting a pleasing opportunity? He didn’t know any more. Everything felt tangled, complicated. ‘Special needs?’ she repeated.
‘As it happens, we have very little provision for special needs in Teruk or elsewhere in Alazar. It is something I would like to work on. Now that the country is stable, it will hopefully be possible to do so.’ He paused while she considered this, and then added, ‘You wanted to train as a special needs teacher, did you not?’
‘Yes.’ She shook her head slowly. ‘It almost seems as if you remember every single thing I said that night.’
‘I do.’ The two words slipped out, low and so heartfelt Malik felt as if he’d exposed something he would have rather kept hidden. ‘It was a magical night,’ he said, an attempt to defuse the moment, but instead it only heightened it and he felt himself start to be pulled under yet again by the tide of memory that washed over him.
With the candlelight flickering between them, the room dim and hushed, he could remember just how that night had felt. How unique and wondrous it had been. And he wanted to feel it again, in its entirety. ‘Walking down cobbled streets...’ he said, unable to keep from saying it. ‘Throwing coins in the Trevi Fountain...’
‘Two coins,’ Gracie recalled, her voice as low as his, her eyes blazing gold. ‘For a new romance.’
‘Perhaps it should have been three.’ He held her gaze, letting her see the heat in his eyes, the heat he felt through his whole body. Letting her consider their future in a whole new light as desire uncoiled and snaked between them, drawing them closer, tangling them together.
Gracie broke their locked gazes first, passing a trembling hand over her face. ‘Don’t do this, Malik.’
‘You feel it, too, Grace. Gracie.’ He allowed himself to say her true name, the name he’d called out in his sleep more than once over the years, to his own savage frustration. ‘I know you do. Back in the bedroom...’
‘Of course I do.’ Her breath came out in a shaky rush. ‘But we can’t complicate things, for Sam’s sake.’
‘This doesn’t have to be complicated.’
She swung her gaze back to his, and now ire flashed in her lovely golden-green eyes. ‘It doesn’t? So what are you suggesting? Another one-night stand? Sorry, but I’ve been there, done that. I’m not interested.’ She pushed away from the table, her lithe body taut.
‘I wasn’t suggesting a one-night stand. Far from it.’
‘What, then?’ she demanded.
Malik was silent, considering his options. He could not play his whole hand now. Gracie would reject it instinctively. There was still too much she didn’t know or understand. ‘All I’m asking,’ he said, his voice low and steady, ‘is that you keep an open mind...to all the possibilities.’
Confusion clouded her eyes. ‘What possibilities? Why do I feel like you’re keeping something from me? Something big?’
‘The future is unknown for all of us, Grace.’
‘Now we’re back to Grace.’ She shook her head, crossing her arms across her body. ‘Don’t lie to me, Malik. Not again.’
‘I didn’t lie before—’
‘As good as. You should have told me you were a sultan.’
‘And you should have told me you were pregnant.’
‘I tried—’
‘And I tried. Can we not do this? Again?’
Her body sagged. ‘I’m so confused, Malik,’ she whispered.
As was he. He’d enjoyed this time with Gracie, talking to her and, yes, most definitely kissing her. That had been exquisitely sweet. But such enjoyment and desire clouded what he knew in his gut had to be a business arrangement, for the sake of Alazar as well as his own.
‘All will become clear eventually,’ he promised. ‘To both of us.’ He brushed her cheek with his fingertips; her skin was impossibly soft. Letting out a shuddering breath, Gracie closed her eyes.
* * *
Gracie felt as if her emotions were in a tumble dryer; she felt a thousand things at once, and it was near impossible to separate the fear from the hope, the excitement from the uncertainty. One moment her blood had been singing with reawakened desire, and the next she was backing away in trepidation. She needed to calm down. She needed to accept this for what it was—two weeks to figure out her and Sam’s next steps in life. And maybe she could enjoy it. Once she’d been determined to suck the marrow out of life and toss away the bones. She’d been so happy and hopeful, back in Rome. She wanted to win a little of her youthful self back.
Taking a deep breath, she smiled. ‘So tell me, what are we going to do in Alazar, exactly?’
‘I want to show you my country. The palaces, the capital city of Teruk and of course the mountains.’
‘Sam mentioned that Alazar has the highest mountain in the Middle East.’
‘Did he?’ The look of pride on Malik’s face made Gracie smile. ‘He is a very intelligent boy.’
‘He’s curious. Always wanting to know more.’ She took a bite of the couscous salad and found it was delicious. As she took another mouthful, she realised how hungry she was. ‘Were you like that, as a boy?’
‘Once.’ Malik was silent for a moment, and Gracie could tell he was considering what to tell her. How much to tell her. ‘Things changed when I was twelve.’
‘Why? What happened then?’
Another silence; Gracie held her breath, sensing the import of what Malik might say. Wanting to know. ‘My older brother, Azim, was kidnapped then,’ he explained quietly. ‘And I became the heir to the throne.’
A soft gasp escaped her. ‘Malik, I’m so sorry. That’s terrible. What...what happened to him?’
Malik spread his hands, his powerful shoulders moving in an elegant shrug. ‘No one knows. There were no ransom notes, no demands, nothing. He just disappeared, right from the palace gardens. No one saw anything.’
‘I’m so sorry.’ Gracie couldn’t imagine that kind of loss. Her five siblings infuriated her at times, but she loved them fiercely. She couldn’t imagine having one taken away so abruptly and terribly. ‘Were you close to him?’
‘Yes.’ The single word held a world of pain. Malik looked down at his hands flat on the table. ‘Yes, I was very close to him.’
‘What about your parents?’ She was realising afresh how little she knew about him. And she wanted to know more, to understand this intriguing and complex man.
‘My mother died when I was four years old, from cancer. It was swift. My father...’ He paused, and Gracie watched as he attempted to rearrange his features into the blank, hard mask she’d become familiar with. He didn’t quite succeed. ‘My father adored my mother. When she died, he...he lost himself. I have very few memories of him. When Azim was kidnapped...it was the final straw for him, I think. He ended up removing himself from the succession at my grandfather’s request and now lives in the Caribbean. I haven’t seen him since I was twelve.’
‘He just abandoned you?’ Gracie exclaimed, horrified by the thought.
‘He was a weak man.’ Malik’s voice sounded hard.
So at twelve years old Malik had lost almost his whole family. Gracie was starting to understand how much he’d endured, how brutally he’d been shaped. And how much family might mean to him. ‘So then it was just you and your grandfather,’ she stated, and he nodded.
‘Yes. He hadn’t paid me much attention before, preferring to focus on Azim as heir. But with Azim and my father gone...’ Malik shrugged. ‘I needed a different education. A different life.’
‘Which was?’
‘The proper training and protection for an heir to the throne.’
‘That’s why you were so sheltered...’
‘I couldn’t be allowed to be kidnapped the way Azim was. I was always surrounded.’
‘Which was why I was your first kiss,’ Gracie whispered, and then flushed. Why had she said that? And why was she remembering the sweet slide of Malik’s lips on hers, the gentle wonder of it as they’d stood by the Trevi Fountain and the whole world had seemed to fall away? And remembering more than that...the feel of his body on hers, in hers, and then just an hour ago, when he’d pressed against her so insistently and thrillingly...
‘Yes,’ Malik answered, his voice a low husk. The moment spun out between them, the room dim and hushed and expectant. Gracie felt her body respond, long-dormant parts of her coming alive with an insistent, pulsing ache. She took a deep breath, trying desperately to quell the tide of yearning that was now threatening to overwhelm her. She couldn’t afford to feel this much now.
‘Sometimes I wonder,’ Malik said, his voice still low, ‘what might have been.’
Gracie tried for a shaky laugh and didn’t quite manage it. ‘That’s always dangerous.’
‘I know...but don’t you wonder, too, Gracie? What could have happened between us?’
‘You made it clear that nothing could, Malik, when you sent me from your bed.’ Yet strangely the memory didn’t hurt as much as it once had.
‘I had no choice. But if I had...’ He left the sentence unfinished, unspoken possibilities dangling between them.
Gracie’s breath hitched as she registered the intent look in Malik’s eyes, felt the answering pulse of want in herself. ‘We can’t do this,’ she whispered. ‘For Sam’s sake...’ Unsteadily she rose from the table. ‘I should go check on him.’
‘I’ll come with you.’ Malik rose as well, tossing his napkin aside and striding towards the door. They reached it at the same time, their hands colliding on the knob, sending sparks through Gracie yet again.
How on earth could she keep resisting him, when every single simple touch set off a firework inside her?
The truth was she couldn’t. With his other hand Malik turned her around so she was facing him. Gracie didn’t resist as his mouth came down on hers, but instead of the wild kiss of an hour ago, this was gentle, like a promise.
His mouth moved lingeringly over hers, exploring and tasting her with thorough sensuality. She swayed on her feet as she steadied herself with one hand bunched on his shirt. Malik rested his forehead against hers.
‘Let’s go find Sam,’ he said, and wordlessly Gracie nodded. She didn’t trust herself to speak.
Sam was ensconced in the media room, playing a video game with intense concentration.
‘Hey, buddy.’ Gracie came over to her son, ruffling his hair, grateful for the distraction from the intensity she’d just experienced with Malik. Her lips were buzzing from that shockingly gentle kiss. ‘Having fun?’
‘Yeah.’ Sam looked up from his game for a mere second, his eyes glinting with excitement. ‘This game is one of the best.’
‘Great.’ She glanced at Malik, who was watching the two of them with that intimidatingly impassive look on his face. She didn’t understand how one moment he could be so sexy and gentle, and the next look like a stranger.
‘You want to play?’ Sam asked Malik, holding out the controller. Malik looked taken aback.
‘I don’t think I’ve ever played this kind of game.’
Sam was flummoxed. ‘You’ve never played a video game?’
Malik smiled faintly. ‘No.’
‘You haven’t played that many, Sam,’ Gracie felt compelled to point out. ‘We don’t have a play console at home.’
‘And neither do I. But I might as well try.’ Malik held out his hand and Sam gave him one of the controllers.
Gracie sat back and watched as Sam explained the game, all of which sounded extremely complicated, and Malik began thumbing buttons.
Who ever thought she would see this? Gracie marvelled as she watched father and son, their dark heads bent together. Her heart felt full, too full. What had Malik meant, keeping an open mind to possibilities? What possibilities?
Dared she think he might have meant something between them, some kind of actual relationship? The prospect sent her heart juddering. This man had just about broken her heart after a single night. Could she trust him with her entire future? She liked things as they were. Inviting Malik into her life was like walking into a whirlwind.
Sam let out a belly laugh as Malik’s spaceship dived and crashed on the screen. Malik’s answering smile lit up Gracie’s insides. Starting to care, beginning to hope...it was all so risky. The pain she’d felt when Malik had turned his back on her before had been agonising. Now, if she actually tried for something real or lasting, it would be unbearable...and it would cost both her and Sam. How could she even think of such a thing?
