Читать книгу Modern Romance April 2017 Books 5 - 8 - Кейт Хьюит - Страница 20
ОглавлениеIT WAS ANOTHER BRIGHT, hot day when Gracie, Sam and Malik headed out to explore the city of Teruk. Malik had smiled in approval at Gracie’s modest sundress and headscarf, and Sam had rolled his eyes.
‘You’re really taking this “when in Rome” thing seriously, Mom,’ he said.
‘That’s right,’ Gracie answered lightly. ‘Don’t you forget it.’
After spending several hours staring up at the ornate ceiling last night, her mind going in useless circles, she’d decided to let the day speak for itself. There was simply too much to process from what Malik had said to what he hadn’t said, and without knowing everything all she could do was worry. What place would she have in Malik’s life? What would Sam’s life look like? Would he go to school? Could he still be a regular little boy? And if she lived in Alazar, what on earth would she do?
By sheer determination she had pushed the questions aside and eventually dropped off to sleep, only to wake up this morning and have them crowd in again. It took another big effort to stop from worrying them over like a dog with a well-chewed bone, but now, after a pleasant breakfast of pastries and coffee with both Sam and Malik in the palace’s splendid gardens, she was looking forward to exploring the city—and spending time with Malik.
Malik was in good spirits, dressed in a more casual thobe, his skin bronzed and gleaming against the cream linen, chatting to Sam about the history of Teruk as they were driven into the city. Sam was soaking it all up like a sponge, his curiosity as insatiable as ever.
Gracie sat back and enjoyed the view of the ancient cobbled streets and wide, sweeping squares, many with fountains in their centres, as she half listened to Malik talk about a resounding victory against the Ottoman Empire in the thirteen-hundreds, when the soldiers of Alazar camped in the mountains and ate their horses when they’d run out of food.
‘We are a strong and independent people,’ he said, with a hand on Sam’s shoulder. ‘We always have been.’
‘And stubborn?’ Gracie teased, and Malik gave her an answering smile.
‘That, too.’
The palace was in Teruk’s old city, although Gracie glimpsed a few glittering skyscrapers in the distance. Malik followed her gaze. ‘Mainly banking,’ he said. ‘I am trying to promote industry and trade with the West.’
‘And is it working?’
‘Yes. Alazar has been very traditional, but any country must adapt to keep up with the times.’
‘So where are we going exactly?’ Gracie asked. ‘What are you showing us?’
‘A little slice of life in Alazar. The city’s university, one of the oldest in the Middle East, and then the park and a school and the marketplace. I hope you will enjoy it.’
‘I’m sure I will.’ Already Gracie found she was enjoying being out and about; all the new and different sights were both interesting and invigorating, the sense of adventure she had, out of necessity, had to suppress stirring to life once more, enough to keep her earlier concerns at bay.
A few minutes later the car stopped in front of a large, ancient building with three sets of Moorish arches and lavish mosaic-tiled floors.
‘This bit is a museum now,’ Malik explained. ‘But the university is still active, with a thousand students.’
‘Men?’ Gracie guessed, and Malik smiled in rueful acknowledgement.
‘Mostly men, but we have had a few women gain admission in the last few years. It is something I am pushing to see much more of.’
‘There are schools for girls?’ Gracie asked, and Malik’s smile deepened.
‘I thought you might ask me about that.’
They toured the university, poring over ancient manuscripts and artefacts that were both beautiful and exotic. A lecturer at the university, who spoke flawless English and gave both Gracie and Sam a warm welcome, ushered them to a courtyard filled with orange trees and the gentle tinkling of water splashing in an ornate fountain. They were served mint tea and Gracie asked questions about the education system in Alazar, gratified to hear about the reforms that Malik was having put in place.
‘You’ve done a lot for this country,’ she said quietly as they got back in the car.
‘There is always more to do. And unfortunately my position has been more about dealing with military concerns than matters of education or business.’
‘Is that what you’re more interested in? Education and business?’
Malik shrugged. ‘It is my duty to be interested in all of it.’
They left the university to explore Teruk’s park on the outskirts of the city, a huge green space with surprisingly modern facilities for sport and leisure.
Gracie watched as Malik and Sam played an Arabic version of boules, rolling stone balls down a manicured lawn with grass like green velvet. With their dark heads bent together, it was impossible not to see they were father and son. She wondered if the security guards watching discreetly from the edges of the park noticed. When would Malik tell Sam about his future? When would he tell her about hers? Because more and more she was realising her life was truly in Malik’s hands...she could and would try to exert control, but it felt like fighting against the tide.
Seeing him smiling now, tousling Sam’s hair in a gesture of unusually easy affection, Gracie wondered if something could work between them all. If they could be a family of sorts. The possibility felt both outrageous and overwhelming. What was she really thinking? Hoping for? She was afraid to articulate it even to herself.
When Malik had mentioned possibilities, love definitely hadn’t seemed like one of them. Even when he was smiling or laughing—or kissing her—he seemed closed off, as if he was hiding part of himself from her. And did she even want love? Love was so risky. Her one experience of anything close to it had just about devastated her. Could she really be contemplating trying again—and with the same man who had hurt her so badly before? It sounded like insanity.
Malik glanced back to smile at her, and Gracie’s thoughts scattered. She couldn’t think of anything sensible when he looked at her like that.
After the park they stopped at a modest building on a side street near the Old City. A smiling woman in Western dress and a headscarf came out to greet them, making obeisance to Malik before she turned to Gracie with a smile.
‘His Highness mentioned that you had a particular interest in the education of Alazar’s girls and women. I am so glad to hear it.’
‘He...did?’ Gracie threw Malik a questioning glance, but he merely smiled blandly. Uncertainly she followed the woman into the building. It took only a moment for her to realise it was a girls’ school, and she spent a happy hour watching lessons, talking to teachers in a mixture of pantomime and broken English, learning about the strides they were making in education.
‘That was really interesting,’ she said when they were back in the car and Sam was busy looking out of the window at a market square full of people, from snake charmers to a dentist with a basket of pulled teeth by his feet. ‘Thank you for arranging it.’
‘I’m glad you enjoyed it,’ Malik returned. ‘You certainly looked like you did,’ he added, a smile in his voice. ‘I have not seen your eyes sparkle so much since Rome.’
Gracie laughed, discomfited and yet flattered, too. ‘Thank you, I think.’
Malik leaned towards her. ‘There is a place for you in Alazar, Gracie.’
Her heart felt as if it were lurching up into her throat. ‘Yes, but what kind of place?’ She looked away, not sure she was ready to hear the answer. ‘We can’t talk about this now.’
‘No,’ Malik agreed. ‘But soon. Very soon.’
His implacable tone gave Gracie a shiver of apprehension. Were his words a promise or a threat? She wasn’t ready to have that conversation, not when she didn’t know how she felt herself.
As the day progressed, Gracie turned what Malik had said over in her mind. Was there a place for her here? Could she get involved, maybe even make a difference in a way she hadn’t been able to in Addison Heights, championing the schools for girls, perhaps pioneering special needs education? The thought intrigued and excited her in a way little had in the last ten years. She had a place in Addison Heights, but it sometimes felt small and limited, with few prospects beyond working her part-time job and being the Jones kid who had messed up. Could things be different in Alazar? Could she recapture the young girl she’d once been, full of hope and crazy dreams?
‘Do you think your people will accept an American?’ Gracie asked when they were seated on the roof terrace of a café overlooking the square, glasses of refreshing mint tea placed in front of them. Sam was practically hanging off the side, a security guard hovering nearby, trying to glimpse the sights in the market square below.
‘I think in time,’ Malik answered. ‘Admittedly some of my people will have to be dragged into the modern age kicking and screaming, but I still intend for it to happen.’
‘And what of your grandfather?’ Gracie asked, lowering her voice even though Sam wasn’t listening. ‘I see what you’re doing, Malik. You’re showing me that I could have some sort of life in Alazar. While Sam is Sultan-in-Training, I could involve myself in charitable works, have a purpose, maybe more of one than I do in Illinois.’ She sighed, her gaze on the minarets in the distance. ‘And honestly, it’s almost tempting. Coming here has made me realise how stuck I’d become back home.’
‘It is not a waste, to be a good mother to Sam.’
‘No, but he doesn’t need me as much as he used to. I was starting to think about other things, getting my teaching certificate...’ She blew out a breath. ‘I don’t know. I think I was starting to feel stymied. And maybe eventually Sam would, too.’ She gazed at her son, who was drinking everything in. ‘He’s loving being here.’
‘So far it has been nothing but a holiday,’ Malik pointed out. ‘But I hope he will welcome his place here, in time.’
The thought made Gracie’s heart squeeze. ‘When will you tell him?’
‘Soon.’ Malik paused. ‘My grandfather told me yesterday that he has cancer.’ His gaze rested on the melee in the square below. ‘I believe he will only live a few months, if that.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Gracie said, and Malik sighed.
‘There is no love lost between us.’
‘But he is still the closest thing you have to a parent. No matter what, it is a loss.’
‘Yes, that is true.’
She took a deep breath. ‘So what does that mean for me? And for Sam?’
Malik turned back to look at her. ‘Sam’s position as my heir must be secured as soon as possible.’
‘Secured?’ A frisson of alarm skittered along Gracie’s spine. ‘How?’
Malik glanced at Sam and then back at her, his expression set. Gracie felt a stab of fear. He looked so determined. ‘By being legitimised.’
‘Legit—But how?’ She didn’t like to think of Sam as illegitimate. It was such a nasty word, a terrible concept. And yet for an heir to a throne, it was the unfortunate reality.
‘How does any child become legitimate?’ Malik asked in that implacable tone Gracie was starting to know well. ‘By his parents marrying.’
The words fell into the stillness like stones into a pool, creating endless ripples. From the marketplace below someone let out a shout, and as if from a great distance Gracie heard a babble of Arabic. She refocused her stunned gaze on Malik.
‘Are...are you serious?’ she stammered.
‘Never more so.’
Once again he’d completely shocked her, even as part of her acknowledged that she couldn’t really be that surprised. Had some part of her wondered or, heaven help her, even hoped this would happen? That Malik would find a way for them to be together, and yet...
‘What kind of marriage are you talking about?’ She kept her voice low even though there was no way Sam could hear them. She could hardly believe she was asking the question. Marriage.
Malik hesitated, and that second’s pause told her more than she’d ever wanted to know. ‘A marriage based on convenience as well as respect and attraction.’
‘Those are three totally different things.’
‘Yet they can coexist.’
‘Can they?’ Gracie gazed out at the market square, trying to untangle the ferment of her feelings. Marriage. Was this what she wanted, a union based on expediency rather than any kind of love and affection? Because the message she was getting loud and clear was that Malik didn’t love her. Never had and never would. And while her life in Illinois might have felt small, living in a loveless marriage felt even smaller. More constrictive and definitely more hopeless.
‘It’s not very romantic, is it?’ she said after a moment, keeping her gaze on the market because she didn’t want to see the expression in Malik’s eyes.
‘No, but I am not one for romance.’
‘You were in Rome.’ The champagne, the coins in the fountain, the fairy tale. What had happened to it all? Had he changed that much—or had he merely been presenting a front back then, as she’d feared?
‘I am not that naïve boy any longer, Grace, and you are not that girl. If you are looking for a fairy tale, you will not find it here.’ Malik took a breath and then ploughed on. ‘But in truth I do not think you will find it anywhere. What we could have would be much better. Much stronger. More real.’
‘How?’ The word emerged through numb lips. How was it possible to feel so hopeful and sad at the same time?
‘Because the fairy tale fades away and notions of romantic love disappear. None of it is lasting or real.’
His unswerving belief in what he was saying made something wither inside her. ‘Do you really believe that?’
‘Yes.’ Another pause as he deliberated what to say. She didn’t know if she could take Malik running down the whole concept of love. Ten years of loneliness and, yes, she’d been holding out for the fairy tale. ‘My father believed in the fairy tale,’ Malik said. ‘He thought he had it with my mother, and perhaps he did, although I do not know. But then she died and he never recovered. He walked away from his family, from his duty, from life, a weak and wrecked man. Is that the kind of life you really want?’
‘No one wants to lose someone they love,’ Gracie protested. ‘I’m sorry for your father. He obviously experienced something very difficult.’
‘And made it even more difficult. To be enslaved to emotion...to allow someone to have that power over you...who would want it?’
I would, Gracie thought. But not with someone who vowed never to feel the same. ‘You obviously don’t.’
‘No.’
‘And yet they say it’s better to have loved and lost than never loved at all.’ A flush rose to Gracie’s cheeks. Did she love Malik? She could, she suspected, if she let herself, but how awful was it to think you could love someone who had no intention of loving you back? She sat back, not wanting to press the point.
‘I do not share that sentiment.’ Malik leaned forward, his eyes glittering. ‘Gracie, when we marry, I will respect you with everything I am and have, treat you with kindness and honesty at all times, and make your body sing with pleasure every night. Surely those things are better than some ephemeral concept of love.’
He spoke the last word on a sneer that made Gracie blink. Her body felt warm. Sing with pleasure every night. Yes, she had no doubt Malik could do that—and the possibility of experiencing it at least once more was incredibly tempting. How could it not be? But it still didn’t make up for the appalling lack—knowing someone would never return her feelings, never feel the intensity and devotion that she would feel. Living like that would be horrifying, soul-destroying. And yet that was what Malik was offering her.
‘It’s a big decision, Malik,’ she said at last. ‘I need some time to think.’ Because she wasn’t the only one involved in this. She had to think of Sam, too, and what was best for him.
‘Of course,’ Malik returned swiftly, but Gracie was just clocking that he’d said when they married, not if. Was the outcome really in question for him? Did she have any choice?
‘Spend the next week getting to know Alazar,’ Malik said. ‘And getting to know me. And then you can make a decision, and we will discuss the matter again.’
Gracie nodded, accepting, even as she silently acknowledged that she didn’t actually know what decision she was making—or if it had already been made for her.
* * *
The next week was surprisingly sweet. Although he still had to deal with matters of state, Malik found time to spend with both Gracie and Sam, whether it was merely relaxing by the pool or going further afield to see more of Alazar. He showed her the national park and the country’s only zoo, with its camels, lemurs and a magnificent white tiger; they had meals in intimate rooms at the palace and picnics on a bluff overlooking the jewel-bright sea.
And they talked, sharing more than they ever had before, whether they were simple jokes or discussions of philosophy. Over the course of the week Malik felt as if the tightly held parts of himself were slowly loosening. He was enjoying things he’d never even considered before—the taste of good food, the beauty of a blue sky, the purity of his son’s laughter. And spending time with Gracie, listening to her share her ideas.
He’d also enjoyed kissing her thoroughly at the end of each evening, although with effort he’d kept it to mere kisses. His body ached to do far more, and he knew Gracie’s did, as well. But he hoped that an enforced abstinence might make Gracie more willing to agree to the marriage that would have to take place, and soon.
Every afternoon he spent an interminable half hour debriefing his grandfather, who was increasingly bedridden and twitching with impotent anger.
‘You are making a fool of yourself with that woman. A fool,’ he spat towards the end of the week. The gossip had finally reached his ears, although Malik had tried to be discreet.
‘I am winning her over,’ he stated calmly, suppressing the flash of rage his grandfather’s contempt caused him. ‘We cannot secure the succession without her, and a forced marriage will not help the kingdom. The days of such archaic arrangements are over.’
‘Nonsense. Banish her to a remote palace—’
‘This is the twenty-first century,’ Malik cut him off. ‘Do you think the Western world will do business with a country whose queen is in exile, simply because she is American?’
Asad glared at him and silently fumed. Malik knew his grandfather knew he was right—he just didn’t want to admit it. ‘I am wooing her gently,’ he stated. ‘It is necessary. If that makes me a fool in your eyes, then so be it. I will do what I must to secure my country’s future as well as my throne.’
Sketching the briefest salaam, he turned on his heel and left the room.
Was he a fool? The question was like a fly buzzing about his brain as he returned to his private office, constantly annoying him. He’d spoken the truth to Asad, but only part of it.
He was enjoying his time with Gracie, necessary as it was. He was glad to get to know her as well as Sam, but he was conscious that he could not stay in such pleasant limbo for ever. He couldn’t let himself weaken, or let his feelings for Gracie and Sam cloud his judgement. He needed to keep a distance between him and Gracie. He also needed to set a date for their wedding—but to do that he required Gracie’s cooperation.
He found her on a bench in the gardens, a book opened on her lap, her face tilted to the sun.
‘You look peaceful,’ Malik remarked as he joined her on the bench.
A shy smile of pleasure lit her face and she closed her book. ‘I feel peaceful, surprisingly.’
‘Why surprisingly?’
‘Because this is still all so strange, and I am very aware that the future is uncertain.’ She eyed him, and Malik gave her a guarded smile.
‘Where is Sam?’
‘One of your staff took him to play boules. He’s loving it here.’
‘I am glad.’
‘But this can’t last for ever,’ Gracie pointed out. ‘In some ways it feels like the calm before a storm. I want life to go on like some endless holiday, but I know it can’t.’
‘No,’ Malik agreed. ‘It can’t.’ It was the perfect segue into talking about his own plans. ‘I will need to make an announcement soon, about Sam.’
Gracie’s eyes widened and her teeth sank deeper into her lip. ‘Already?’
‘Considering my grandfather’s health, time is of the essence. I thought we could go away, the three of us, for a few nights. I want to show both of you the heart of Alazar. We can talk to Sam about who I am. Who he is.’
‘That seems like a good idea,’ Gracie agreed cautiously. ‘But what happens after that?’
‘I will announce Sam to my people.’ He paused. ‘After we have married.’
‘Oh, really?’ Her eyes flashed. ‘What happened to me making a decision?’
‘Gracie, you must see the inevitability of this. Sam cannot be my heir if he is not legitimate. I am trying to be as patient as I can, and I think we’ve both enjoyed this week together. But we must move ahead.’ Asad’s words echoed through him and he finished, his tone flat and final, ‘We will marry as soon as we return from the mountains.’
‘What a romantic proposal.’
‘You know I am not romantic.’
‘I also know I don’t want to be bullied into a marriage,’ Gracie snapped. ‘You have to give me time, Malik—’
‘I have given you time.’
‘Without an actual choice! What is the point in that?’
Malik sighed, his patience at an end. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘At least pretend I have some say in the matter,’ Gracie answered sarcastically. ‘Really, sometimes I wonder how much of your kindness is real and how much is an act simply to get what you want.’ Her breath came out in a rush, her expression turning bleak. ‘I don’t know if I can live like that.’
Malik felt himself tense. In his impatience, he’d gone too fast, run too rough. ‘We can be happy together, Gracie. I know we can.’
‘Then wait and see if I come to the same conclusion,’ Gracie answered quietly, her eyes still troubled. ‘Can you at least give me that courtesy?’
Everything in Malik howled no. He wanted to make Sam his in the eyes of Alazar, but just as much he wanted to make Gracie his. But he knew enforcing his will now would backfire badly. ‘Malik?’ she prompted, her voice soft and sad. Wordlessly he nodded.