Читать книгу Modern Romance April 2017 Books 5 - 8 - Кейт Хьюит - Страница 22
ОглавлениеDAZZLING SUNLIGHT WOKE Gracie the next morning. The bed next to her was empty, and she felt a pang of loss. It didn’t last long, though, for the day was too fresh and beautiful to spend a moment moping. She felt energised and excited for what lay ahead, more than she could ever remember feeling before. Partners, Malik had said. The anxiety she’d been wrestling with for weeks was finally falling away.
She rose from the bed and went to the window, kneeling on the window seat of ancient, weathered stone as she gazed out at the breathtaking view, rugged peaks and undulating desert underneath a brilliant blue sky.
‘What are you smiling about?’ Malik came into the bedroom, smiling himself, dressed casually in jeans and a cotton shirt.
‘Everything,’ Gracie admitted. ‘I feel very happy this morning.’
‘As do I.’ He reached for her and she came easily, wrapping her arms around his waist as she rested her cheek against his chest, felt the steady thud of his heart beneath her. ‘Is Sam awake?’
‘Yes, I just had breakfast with him and he’s now gone to the pool. One of my staff is watching him.’
‘He’s had the time of his life here.’
‘Yes.’ Malik’s arms tightened around her. ‘I thought we could talk to him today. Tell him who I really am.’
Gracie’s heart lurched a little, but she knew it was time. It felt right. ‘Okay.’
‘I’ve arranged for us to go pony trekking through the mountains. It will hopefully be enjoyable for all of us, and it will afford us the privacy to tell Sam.’ He paused. ‘Things will be set in motion quickly afterwards, Gracie. I want you to be prepared for that.’
Gracie let out a shaky laugh. ‘I’m not sure there’s any way to be prepared for that. But I need to make my own arrangements, Malik.’ She eased herself away from his embrace so she could look up at him. ‘I want to call my parents, and I’d like my family to come to the wedding.’ Malik hesitated, and Gracie frowned. ‘Is that a problem?’
‘Not necessarily, but our marriage will have to be as soon as possible after our return so no one can challenge Sam’s rights. There won’t be time for your family to attend.’
‘Couldn’t we wait a few days?’
‘Time is of the essence.’ Malik hesitated. ‘But if it is really important, perhaps we could manage something.’
‘Do you mean that?’ Gracie was touched that he was so concerned about her wishes.
‘Yes, of course. The other option is we could have a formal reception and celebration in a week or two. Your parents and family could come then.’
Gracie nodded slowly. If Malik could compromise, then she could, too. ‘Okay, that sounds like a plan.’ Smiling, he kissed her.
An hour later they were setting off through the mountains on ponies, with Gracie clutching the reins of hers rather tightly.
‘I’ve never actually been horseback riding before,’ she confessed to Malik, and he gave her a reassuring grin.
‘These animals are very gentle.’
Still, after an hour Gracie was glad to slide off and wobble towards the stream where the ponies were being led to for a drink.
‘Thank goodness for the helipad,’ she said as she rubbed her legs. ‘Seven days by camel would have just about killed me.’
‘You will need to get a little hardier, I think,’ Malik said with a smile as he took her by the hand and drew her down to the blanket several servants had spread out. A picnic was already being unpacked, dishes of dates and figs, meats and cheeses spread out for their consumption.
‘I don’t know,’ Gracie said, plucking a fig from its bowl. ‘Life in Alazar seems pretty luxurious. I think I’ll get used to the five-star-hotel treatment pretty quickly. In fact, I already have.’
‘I’m glad to hear it.’
‘It’s going to be hard for you to go back home,’ Sam teased as he joined them on the blanket. ‘Back to making supper and washing dishes!’ As Sam reached for a date, Malik and Gracie exchanged looks.
‘Actually, Sam,’ Malik said, his voice friendly and mild, ‘what would you think about staying in Alazar for longer?’
‘Longer?’ Sam looked up, chewing the date, his gaze narrowed. He swallowed and asked, ‘What do you mean?’
Gracie held her breath, waiting, wondering how Malik would explain this. How Sam would respond.
‘I mean,’ Malik said carefully, ‘what would you think about living in Alazar?’
‘Living...’ Sam stared at him blankly. Then he looked at Gracie, a hint of hurt confusion in his eyes. ‘Are you thinking about moving?’
‘Well, yes,’ Gracie said. ‘Maybe. That is...’ She looked helplessly at Malik.
‘You came to Alazar for a reason, Sam,’ he said, his voice quiet and strong and sure. ‘Not just for a holiday, or because I am your mother’s friend. In fact, I am more than her friend. Your mother and I intend to marry.’ Malik kept Sam’s gaze unwaveringly while Sam stared back at him, his mind racing.
‘You mean...you...you’d be like my dad?’ Hope and uncertainty were both audible in his voice.
‘Yes, I would. In fact, I wouldn’t be like your dad.’ Malik smiled, and the hint of vulnerability in his expression made Gracie ache. ‘I am your father, Sam.’
‘What...?’ Sam’s breath came out in a rush. ‘How?’ He gave Gracie another look full of confusion. ‘Mom said she’d never been able to get in touch with my father.’
‘She wasn’t. And I didn’t know about you until very recently. If I had, I would have been part of your life. A big part. I promise.’ Sincerity throbbed in Malik’s voice and Gracie had to blink back sudden tears. She didn’t doubt for a second that Malik cared for his son very much.
Sam stared down at the blanket, his brow furrowed, his mouth working, as he processed so much. Gracie put a hand on his thin shoulder and squeezed.
‘But you’re Sultan,’ Sam finally said, looking up. Malik nodded, waiting for more. ‘What does that mean for me?’ Trust Sam to make that leap almost instantly. Her son was fiercely intelligent.
‘It means you’d be Sultan after me.’
‘Sultan...’ Sam looked away.
‘How do you feel about that, Sam?’ Malik asked quietly.
Sam kicked at the dirt. ‘I don’t know.’
‘It is a lot to take in, I understand. Nothing needs to change right now.’
‘But it has changed,’ Sam said, a note of accusation entering his voice. ‘Will I even get to go back to Illinois? To my home?’
‘Of course you will,’ Malik answered steadily. ‘For visits.’
‘I didn’t mean visits,’ Sam retorted. He looked up, his eyes bright with both anger and tears. ‘Why are you telling me all this now? Why did you lie to me all along? I hate you!’ He threw Malik a vicious look, and then he scrambled up from the blanket and stalked away. Gracie half rose to go after him, but Malik stayed her with one hand.
‘Let him go. My staff will keep an eye on him and he needs some time alone.’ His face was impassive, his tone quiet, but Gracie sensed his hurt. He had wanted his son to embrace him and all he’d offered, and he hadn’t.
‘He didn’t mean it,’ Gracie said, and Malik did not reply. She tried again. ‘This isn’t a rejection of you, Malik. He just needs some time.’
He managed a stiff smile that didn’t reach his eyes. ‘I know.’
They ate in silence, conscious of Sam sloping about the rocks a few dozen metres away, his head bent, his shoulders hunched. Gracie ached to comfort both Malik and Sam, to draw this unconventional family together and make it stronger than ever before.
Glancing sideways at Malik, she thought about his refusal to love, that ephemeral notion he disdained because it had made his father weak. But was Malik afraid of being weak—or being hurt? How could she convince him it was worth the risk?
They were all still subdued as they packed up the lunch and got back on the ponies. Half an hour of trekking later, Malik pulled his pony over by a rocky overhang. Gracie and Sam followed suit, and he gestured to them to follow him into the shallow cave.
‘This is where my ancestor Sultan Raji al Bahjat camped when he was being attacked by the Ottomans,’ he told them quietly. ‘He led his people to an overwhelming victory despite the huge odds against him.’ Malik placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder. ‘He was a wonderful leader. He was your ancestor as well as mine.’
Sam didn’t say anything, and Gracie perched on a rock, her knees drawn up to her chest, her heart in her mouth.
‘You are his descendant, Sam,’ Malik stated quietly. ‘You have the blood of sultans and kings running through your veins. Alazar itself is in your blood.’ Malik scooped up a handful of crumbly, pebbly soil and pressed it into Sam’s hand. ‘You may fight against it now, because it is strange and even unwelcome, but it is the truth.’
Sam stared at Malik for a long moment, and then he opened his hand so the soil spilled out, showering their feet. ‘I want to go home,’ he said quietly, then turned and walked from the cave.
Gracie stood up, her heart beating painfully. ‘Malik...’ she began, but he just shook his head and brushed by her.
They rode in silence back to the Palace of the Clouds, and Sam and Malik both disappeared once inside to their own pursuits, leaving Gracie feeling lonely and heartsick. She wanted Malik to reassure her that everything was going to be okay, even as she craved to reassure him. He was hurting, and he was choosing not to let her close. Both of her men were. In the end she called her parents to have a conversation that was long overdue.
‘You’re staying in Alazar?’ Her mother sounded appalled and incredulous once she’d explained she was to marry Malik.
‘Yes, although of course we’ll come back to visit. But Sam belongs here, Mom, and so do I.’ I think. She closed her eyes, battling against the uncertainty that was crashing over her in waves. She realised afresh how fragile everything was, for her to feel this way now. The anxiety that had fallen away this morning was coming back in full force.
‘But the Middle East...it’s so far away...’
‘Malik has promised you can visit any time. And we’ll visit you. In fact, we’re planning a wedding reception in a couple of weeks. I’d love it if all of you could come.’
‘Of course we’ll come, Gracie,’ her dad said. ‘We wouldn’t miss it for the world.’ The warmth in his voice made Gracie’s eyes sting. She’d needed that reassurance.
Sam stayed in his room for dinner, and Gracie and Malik ate alone. She tried to engage him, alternating between stilted offers of reassurance and attempts at teasing banter, but it all fell flat.
‘I’m sorry,’ Malik said as a servant cleared away their dishes. He rubbed his temples, looking more tired and careworn than Gracie had ever seen him before. ‘I have been distracted tonight, and not just by Sam. There are issues of state that concern me, as always.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Gracie said, knowing the words were inadequate. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’
Malik shook his head. ‘No, but we should return to Teruk sooner than I had hoped.’
Gracie went to bed alone, aching for Malik, but he’d said he needed to work. Was this a vision of the future? Gracie wondered as she hugged a pillow to herself. Nights alone, a distant husband and an embittered and angry son? At that moment everything felt like a huge and disastrous mistake.
She dozed off eventually, only to wake when she felt Malik slide into bed next to her. Sleepily she turned to him, surprise flooding through her when he pulled her almost roughly into his arms and buried his face in her neck.
‘Malik...’
‘I need you, Gracie.’ He kissed her hard, his hands roving over her body, sliding under her nightgown, every movement urgent and demanding, a plea Gracie understood. She hadn’t been able to reassure him earlier, but she could now, and her body was responding in kind, craving the comfort as well as the exquisite release she knew their union would bring.
‘Please...’ Malik gasped. ‘Touch me. I need you to touch me. I need to feel you...’
‘Oh, Malik.’ Tears stung her eyes as she pressed her lips to his chest. Malik groaned as she kissed her way down his body, offering him her body in return, her heart and soul, every touch of her lips her way of telling him she loved him. And his acceptance of her gift, his admission of how he needed her, was his way of saying it back. She had to believe that. She did believe that.
‘Gracie...’ Malik’s hands were on her shoulders, his body arching instinctively as her mouth moved lower against his abdomen, his erection pushing against her. She hesitated, because she’d never done this before, but she wanted to show Malik how much she loved him. How much she was giving him, offering him her entire self, everything she had and was and could be, in that moment and for ever.
His breath came out in a hiss as she moved lower and then took him into her mouth. His hands tangled in her hair and Gracie revelled in the selfless act of love she was offering.
He came with a loud cry, his body shuddering before he pulled her up towards him, flipping her on her back as he drove deeply inside her. Gracie wrapped her legs around his waist, the sensation so sudden and overwhelming and intrinsically right that she gasped aloud.
Malik pressed his forehead against hers as he moved inside her and she matched his rhythm. ‘I’m not hurting you?’
‘No,’ she assured him. She arched upwards, drawing him even deeper into herself, taking everything from him and giving it all back. ‘No. You could never hurt me, Malik.’ I love you, she almost said. The words were on her lips, in her heart, bubbling up, demanding to be spoken. She bit them back at the last minute, overcome by the pleasure of their united bodies as they moved in sensuous rhythm, bodies straining, mouths gasping, hands seeking, until a climax crashed over them that shook Gracie right down to her marrow, reverberating through her bones and leaving her weak and utterly sated.
Afterwards Malik held on to her, rolling onto his back so Gracie lay sprawled over him, their bodies still wrapped around one another so Gracie didn’t know where she left off and he began. Malik buried his face in her hair, and she felt his body shuddering, his arms clasped tightly around her. Neither of them spoke; neither of them needed to. In that moment their communication felt silent, perfect and pure. I love you didn’t even need to be said.
* * *
‘It won’t be long.’
Malik gazed at his grandfather’s face in the satellite video call and felt a strange plunging sensation in his middle. ‘What do you mean?’ he asked, even though he had a feeling he knew exactly what Asad meant.
‘I’m dying,’ Asad said bluntly. ‘And the cancer is quicker than anyone anticipated. I have weeks, maybe a month, no longer.’ He closed his eyes, shuddering as a pain gripped him, his face pale and waxy. Then he opened them once more and stared bleakly at Malik. ‘There is much to say and little time to say it.’
‘Say what you will,’ Malik answered. His voice was terse, his chest tight with emotion he couldn’t quite identify. He’d been feeling far too much these last few days—first with Sam’s apparent rejection of him, and then last night with Gracie, their passion more intense, more emotional, than anything he’d ever experienced. Remembering it filled him with a mixture of joy and shame; he’d revealed so much weakness, showed her how much he needed her, and yet it had felt so good. So right.
‘I have had time to reflect, these last weeks and months,’ Asad said slowly. ‘And I fear I have, over the years, been too harsh with you.’
For a moment Malik could not form words to reply. Too harsh? He thought of the cruel words, the beatings, the taunts, the enforced regime. Yes, his grandfather had been too harsh. And it was too late for regrets or even forgiveness.
‘I feared for Alazar,’ Asad continued. ‘Its stability is more crucial than ever in this current climate of war and extremism. I wanted to safeguard it, and perhaps you have paid the price.’ He sighed heavily. ‘As did Azim.’
‘Well I know it.’
‘I was afraid for you,’ his grandfather explained. His words came slowly, his face haggard with the effort. ‘Afraid you would turn out like your father.’
‘I hope I have not disappointed you too much,’ Malik said stiffly.
‘No, but I still fear,’ Asad answered. ‘With this woman...do not make the mistake your father made, Malik, and love a woman the way he did. It made him weak, even frail. He never would have been a good ruler of our people. He cared too much, and he lost all when your mother died. Do not be the same, and cause the ruin not only of your own country, but your own soul. Love is weakness, Malik. I have always told you that, and I have seen it proved right.’
Malik kept his face neutral as he absorbed his grandfather’s words. He’d come from Gracie’s bed only hours ago, and he could still smell her scent on him, remember how much weakness he’d shown last night when he’d reached for her. I need you, Gracie. He cringed now at the admission he’d made in a moment of desperation.
‘I am not in love with her.’ The words came out flat, cold. He meant them. At least, he wanted to mean them. He needed to mean them, because, as Asad had said, love was weakness. He’d known that, seen it in the way his father had lost his reason for living when his mother had died. Felt it in himself, when he’d realised how much power Gracie had. Needing her, feeling less than whole without her.
The last week had been a dream of sunshine and happiness, not reality. The reality was a marriage of convenience, a life of duty and a great deal of hard work. Not something as nebulous and untrustworthy as love.
‘Good.’ Asad nodded slowly; Malik could see he was tiring. ‘Then marry her and keep her where you must. And return home quickly if you can.’
‘We will leave today.’
After the call, Malik remained in his bedroom, his unseeing gaze on the distant snow-capped mountains. A few birds twittered their early-morning song, but otherwise the entire palace was hushed and still. Now what?
Now, he knew, he would have to go ahead with his plans. Marry Gracie in a quiet civil ceremony, and announce Sam to the world. He hated the thought of his son resisting such a move, but he knew he had no choice. News of Asad’s illness had already leaked to the press. The vultures would soon start circling.
* * *
‘What’s wrong?’
Gracie gazed at Malik’s serious expression and felt her insides plunge. She’d been looking forward to seeing him again, after their intense encounter last night. Now, as he stood in the doorway of her bedroom, a deep frown marring the sculpted perfection of his features, dread took over. ‘What’s happened?’
‘My grandfather has taken a turn for the worse,’ Malik said after a pause. ‘He is dying, and the end will come sooner than anyone thought.’
‘I’m so sorry, Malik.’ Relief coursed through her at the realisation that she wasn’t causing that frown, but it was edged with concern for this man she knew she loved. ‘Do you want to return to Teruk?’
‘Yes, we will have to leave this afternoon.’ Malik passed a hand over his face. ‘Everything will happen quickly now.’
‘I understand.’ She wished she felt more ready. She wished she felt closer to Malik, for despite their amazing intimacy last night he was the cold and distant stranger again this morning. When he looked as inscrutable as this, she had no idea how to reach him, or even if she could. And yet they were soon to be married.
An hour later they were boarding the helicopter, and, although he was quiet, Sam’s simmering resentment seemed to have run its course, and Gracie was glad for that. Her son would get used to this new life and relish the challenges and opportunities. She only wished she felt more confident in herself, secure in Malik’s feelings for her—whatever those were.
Last night, when he’d pulled her to him with such desperate urgency, she’d wondered if he loved her already, but simply didn’t have the words for it. Last night his body had told her he loved her, but now Gracie wondered if that was just so much wishful thinking, because she wanted Malik’s love so much.
Now, in the bright, harsh light of day, all her uncertainties had come rushing back. She longed for Malik to turn to her with a reassuring smile, to squeeze her hand. She craved his strength for everything that lay ahead, but Malik was completely cut off from her, silent and stony-faced. He didn’t even look at her once.
Her stomach seethed with nerves as the flat-roofed buildings of Teruk came in view as the helicopter started its descent, the sky above turning lavender. Gracie caught Sam’s eye and he gave her a lopsided smile.
‘It’s going to be okay, Mom.’
Gracie managed a smile back, humbled by her son’s strength. He would, she realised, make a very good leader.
Back at the palace Malik disappeared into an office and Gracie was shepherded back to the harem. The rooms that had felt like a luxurious hotel days ago now felt like a gilded prison. Was Malik going to make the announcement? Shouldn’t she be briefed? And when on earth were they going to get married?
She paced the living room of the suite, longing for answers and even more for Malik. For his solid, steadying presence, his sense of unshakeable strength, his sudden, brilliant smile. She needed him.
A sudden whirring of helicopter blades had her hurrying towards the window. Gracie watched as another helicopter touched down, wondering what important person had arrived at the palace.
She found out after an hour more of restless pacing, when the same servant woman who had attended to her on the first day arrived with a dinner tray.
‘Thank you,’ Gracie murmured as she took the tray. ‘Do you know who arrived by helicopter about an hour ago?’
‘Yes, it is the most amazing thing! A true miracle.’ The woman shook her head, her eyes wide and round.
‘Yes?’ Gracie prompted, a touch of impatience in her voice, trepidation starting its relentless creep.
‘It is His Highness’s brother, who was lost twenty years ago now,’ the woman said. ‘It is His Highness Azim, the heir to the throne, returned to take his rightful place.’
