The men looked down at their half-filled plates, then almost simultaneously, stood up. “I have work to do,” Tarin announced. The man realized that he was being rude and turned back from his abrupt departure. “Thank you for joining us this morning. And thank you for helping us with our nieces. They…they are precious.”
Gaelen was just as formal. “I look forward to dinner, Doctor Ross.” And she was left alone.
Harper picked up her cup of coffee, contemplating that meal. She’d barely eaten anything, her attention captured by the interplay between the men and the twins. Twenty-four hours ago, Harper would have thought that the only two people in this palace who were still mourning the loss of Princess Orella were the small, silent girls trapped in the nursery.
Now, she wasn’t so sure. Now she wondered if there were other emotions that weren’t being dealt with.
Sipping her coffee, she contemplated how to confront the issue. And yes, confronting it was absolutely necessary, even if it meant having to deal with his big bad “Highness”. As much as she’d love to avoid that man…speaking of emotions that were being avoided…she had to understand what was going on underneath the still waters of this family.
Chapter 8
“Okay, you’ve got us all here,” Amit snapped, entering the salon and going directly towards the bar to pour himself a glass of scotch. “What do you need to talk to us about?”
Harper had arrived first, wanting to watch everyone’s reactions. Talia’s had been the most obvious, but that was normal. Women tended to show their emotions more easily than men, and being the youngest of four…no, five…she wouldn’t have had the same rules applied to her behavior during her formative years.
Tarin and Gaelen were harder to read initially. In fact, if she hadn’t seen them during breakfast, Harper might not have thought that they were still dealing with the loss of their sister.
But that moment when the girls had left the room and their engaging masks had fallen…that had been telling and she knew what she had to do. They weren’t going to like it, but it was an issue she’d seen over and over throughout her years as a psychologist.
She waited until Amit had poured his drink and turned to face the room. Harper cleared her throat and stepped forward. “Please, could you sit down?”
He lifted a dark eyebrow at her request and knew that he’d prefer to stand. “It’s important,” she explained gently.
He eyed her for another moment and she noticed his muscles tense. It was such a simple gesture, she might have missed it if she hadn’t been so attuned to him. But she saw it and understood what he wasn’t telling her. Obviously, the man suspected what Harper wanted to discuss and would gladly ignore the conversation if possible.
Finally, he sat down, his back barely touching the chair as he looked at her with barely contained belligerence.
“Thank you, Your…” she stopped, remembering that he’d ordered her to call him Amit. She couldn’t do it. It was just too…intimate for some odd reason. Taking a deep breath, she clasped her hands together. “Something I’ve noticed over the years is that children are a sort of barometer for what’s happening in a family.” She paused, looking at each person to see if they were listening. Talia was barely holding it together, staring down into her untouched glass of wine. Gaelen and Tarin were listening, but didn’t understand. When she looked over at Amit, she wasn’t sure about him. “Some teens act out in anger, or lose themselves in drugs or alcohol. They are mimicking their parents’ behaviors, learning to deal with loss and sadness by watching their parents.”
“Our nieces aren’t doing drugs,” Amit replied, more politely than she would have anticipated.
“You’re right,” she replied, ignoring the underlying anger in his tone. “They aren’t losing themselves in self-destructive activities. Nor are any of you,” she said, pausing as each one looked at the drink in their hands. Only Amit had taken a sip of his scotch, but the others had left their drinks alone. “At least, you’re not using alcohol or drugs in order to handle your grief. But nor are any of you actually confronting the issue, either.”
She waited and, sure enough, each one looked up at her, their eyes filled with confusion. “Right now, I suspect that every one of you is hurting very deeply, mourning the loss of your sister. And none of you are talking about her. You all have learned to hide your emotions from the public,” she continued. “That isn’t a criticism.” Harper looked at each of them. “I understand that your coping tactics are necessary because of your public roles. Showing emotions in public could set off a panic in the country. I understand that each of you have learned to control your emotions so that the public remains confident in the government.” She took a deep breath.
“So, what’s the problem?” Tarin demanded, leaning back in his chair, crossing his legs so that his ankle rested on his knee. It was a defensive gesture, a sort of shield, protecting him from whatever she might say next.
She looked over at Amit and smiled, relieved that he was leaning forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees. Unfortunately, Gaelen and Talia were silent, both staring into their untouched drinks. Both still wary of whatever she might say next.
Harper continued, undeterred. It had to be said, so she shifted slightly, leaning forward so that she could see each face.
“The problem is that those little girls are only five years old. They don’t understand what they are feeling, so they look to each of you, emulating what they understand each of you are doing.” She waited, but all four of them were waiting on her to continue. “Those girls only see the stoic, silent aunt and uncles, the images that you are presenting to the world. Ellora and Elsa are emulating your actions. They are trying to be stoic and not show their sadness. But they are so overwhelmed with that sadness and confusion, not knowing what’s going to happen to them, where they are going to live, who they should turn to for comfort, or just someone to talk to, that they’ve simply…shut down. Like I said, they are the barometers of this family.” She paused, letting her words sink in. “From what I can see, each of you are so overwhelmed with your grief as well, and I suspect that all of you have been trained over the years to not let anyone else see what you’re feeling. You’ve allowed your public images, your stoic public faces, to infiltrate your personal lives.” She looked at each of them. “Each of you should be talking about your sister.” She smiled slightly. “I think you should each be talking about your anger over her death and her actions, the way she lived her life.”
“She’s gone,” Tarin snapped, his hazel eyes dark with anger and pain. “We can’t…!”
“You can,” she interrupted gently. “Being angry with your sister isn’t wrong, even though she’s no longer here. It’s normal and healthy to be angry.” She folded her hands carefully, knowing she was getting into dangerous territory now. Unfortunately, it had to be said. She had to let them know that their feelings were valid, even if they didn’t want to feel them. “What she did was irresponsible. Yes, it caused her death and that was tragic, but it still might anger you. Until each of you own up to that anger, you will be stuck trying to put her actions in context. Unfortunately, you all are too responsible with your own lives and don’t understand what pushed your sister to get into a vehicle and race around on narrow streets at excessively high speeds when she had two small children to care for and protect.” She inhaled slightly, but then decided to go for the next issue. “I think that each of you are also angry that she married someone that you disapprove of.” She paused, looking at each face, noticing their stiff, furious expressions. “Am I right?”
There was a long silence, then a faint voice said, “Yes.”
Four sets of eyes turned to look at Talia and, for the first time, Harper saw the tears rolling down her cheeks.
Immediately, Amit stood up and came over to her, pulling her into his arms to hold her as she sobbed.
Tarin and Gaelen watched their siblings with surprise and…something else. They were both powerful men,
which meant that they probably didn’t like emotions. They definitely didn’t like their baby sister crying. No man liked seeing a woman in pain, and a family member in pain was even worse.
Harper understood that this was a private moment and headed towards the doors, intending to leave them alone to talk about their grief.
But as she passed by, a hand touched her wrist, stopping her departure. Initially, she’d thought it would be Amit’s hand. But when she turned, it was Tarin. In fact, all three men were staring at her with an almost identical pleading look to their raw features.
So even though her instinct was to leave them to their grief, she nodded and returned to her chair. She didn’t really want the wine, but it gave her something to hold onto.
Slowly, Talia’s sobbing subsided and someone handed her a handkerchief. Then all four of them settled, four sets of eyes turning to Harper.
She understood. For months, these siblings had struggled to contain their emotions. Now she was asking them to release them, to poke and prod at their pain. To acknowledge it.
She smiled slightly. “I don’t have a secret formula for moving forward,” she explained. “The best way to get through these kinds of emotions is talking to each other, remembering your sister, telling the girls stories about her.” She looked at each of them. “And giving yourselves permission to be angry with her. But in that anger, also remember that no one is completely good or completely bad. Even in her reckless behavior, there were nuances to Princess Orella that you might have seen or heard that you admired as much as you disapproved of. Talk about those and let yourselves feel. No matter what emotion your memories dredge up, it’s better to feel them and acknowledge those feelings. Pushing them away only makes the pain come out in different, and sometimes unexpected ways.”
They were silent for another long moment, so Harper prompted them. “Tarin, what’s your first memory of your sister?”
Tarin leaned back in the chair, propping one ankle over the opposite knee and resting his untouched glass of scotch on his knee. “I remember her crying a lot,” he said, one side of his mouth quirking upwards in an awkward smile. “She yelled and cried a lot in those early days.”
There was a rumble of laughter through the room. After that, the words continued, thoughts flowing, memories coming out from behind the stiff veneers, the protective barriers behind which each of them had buried their emotions. Talia didn’t say much, but she listened and the silent tears didn’t seem so intense now. Tarin told stories about what Orella was like in school and how she’d pranked the tutors, sneaking away to the stables as often as she could. Gaelen nodded, then told a story about how she’d tried to start a fire in the stables but, before she could get the wood lit, one of the stable hands had caught her and spanked her. She’d been so furious, she’d gone straight to their parents and told on the stable hand. Then she’d been spanked again for putting the horses in danger and the stable hand had been given a bonus.
Harper smiled and laughed, frowned at some of the stories and rolled her eyes at others. Around midnight, she slipped away and, this time, no one stopped her. In fact, Talia, Gaelen, and Tarin didn’t even notice. When she glanced back, only Amit saw her go. It was at that moment that she realized that Amit hadn’t shared any stories. He’d listened and nodded, smiled at some, but he’d kept to himself throughout the evening.
Chapter 9
Harper hummed as she walked down the hallway the next morning. Progress had been made the previous night, although there was still a lot that probably needed to be done. She had interviews all day today with teachers around the city, but she wanted to stop by and say good morning to the girls. She’d purposely missed breakfast this morning, wanting to give the family members a chance to continue talking privately. No matter how many times she was welcomed into their midst, Harper still felt like an intruder. They might be suffering in silence, but they were a close-knit family and had obviously gone through a lot together. This was just something they hadn’t expected to have to deal with and weren’t prepared for.
So it was a shock when she stepped into the girls’ room to find only Amit there. He was doing something with a notebook. She couldn’t see what, but his pen was flying over the paper and he was focused on his work with an intensity that she couldn’t ever imagine being able to accomplish.
Looking around, she didn’t see the girls, but she heard them. They were splashing around in the bathroom, most likely brushing their teeth and washing their faces, their nanny giving them directions.
“So you couldn’t even take a morning off to talk with your nieces?” she asked with a huff and a bit of sympathy. “Amit, really, what is so important that you can’t take a few minutes to talk with your nieces? Maybe connect with them a little?”
He glanced up at the first sound of her voice, those strange, hazel eyes of his blinking, then sparkling with amusement.
She shifted on her feet as he looked up. “Oh, this is funny?’ she snapped. Pointing towards the bathroom, she said, “Those girls are hurting, Amit! They need you and…” she stopped when the nanny called out that the girls were now “presentable” for His Highness.
The two little darlings raced out of the bathroom, practically throwing themselves into Amit’s arms. Amit caught both girls, kissing each shining head and laughing at Harper as he did so.
“So, did you clean behind your ears?” he asked. Immediately, both girls nodded and shifted so that Amit could check behind their ears. He nodded with feigned seriousness. “Good. Good,” he muttered. “And your feet? Are they clean? I saw your boots when you came back from the stables.” He stopped when both girls landed on their bottoms and lifted their pink-soled feet into the air for inspection. Amit smothered a chuckle as he inspected each foot, even moving each girls toes as if making sure that there was no dirt between their toes.
Harper shifted, covering her mouth with her hand…stunned as she watched the ever-so-serious Sheik of Izara gravely inspect four tiny feet for dirt.
Finally, he gave the girls an approving nod. “Okay, I think that both of you are clean enough.”
The girls scrambled to their feet and stood up again, leaning on either side of their uncle, almost bouncing with eagerness for whatever treat he’d promised.
Amit picked up the notebook again and Harper’s heart sank with disappointment. Was this to be a lesson in economics or politics? Was it…? She couldn’t believe how disappointed she was in Amit. For a moment, she’d believed that he would give them something incredible.
He flipped the notebook over and, for a long moment, the girls just stared at the picture on the page. Slowly, Ellora lifted her hand, her tiny fingers moving over the paper. Then both girls turned and grinned up at Amit, hugging him.
The nanny chose that moment to call the girls away. “Time for class,” she called, clapping her hands.
The girls lifted up onto their toes and kissed his cheeks, one girl on either side. Then they raced away, eagerly heading towards the classroom.
Amit stood up, tucking the notebook under his arm as he approached her. “You are angry with me,” he commented. He only stopped when he was less than a foot away from her, looking down into her blue eyes with…challenge?
Harper wanted to step back, but would that be too revealing? Would it prove to Amit that he bothered her? Instead of worrying about that, she looked at the notebook under his arm. “What’s that?”
His eyes flashed with humor because she was avoiding the issue. Again. “I’m not going to show you until you tell me that you believe in me.”
Harper laughed, pretending to be outraged at his suggestion. Crossing her arms over her chest, she smothered her amusement. “Not a chance, Your Highness. You’re one of the most closed off men I’ve ever met. I apologize for assuming the worse, but you probably understand why I thought that you were working.”
He moved closer, leaning in slightly. “Fair point.” He looked as if he were contemplating a major diplomatic mission. “Okay, I�
�ll show you…if you use my first name.” His voice had dropped, sounding huskier, deeper and sexier.
Another laugh, this time with more tension, and she shook her head. “Nope.”
He chuckled, then pulled back. “Fine. I’m not going to show you.” He turned slightly. “Why weren’t you at breakfast this morning?”
Her eyes dropped to the notebook, then back up to his. Good grief, she hated secrets! “What’s on that page?” she challenged, shocked that she’d dare a man like this. Especially when he was this close.
He turned back to her, moving closer again. “Use my first name, Harper,” he retorted, his voice going even deeper.
Harper’s heart pounded and she licked her lips, trying to figure out how to get what she wanted without giving in. Honesty, she decided. “I can’t. You’re my boss. And you’re dangerous.”
There was a tense silence for a long moment. Finally, he said, “Both statements are true. But neither of them preclude you from using my name.”
She smothered a smile and shook her head. “Don’t you dare try and use logic and charm on me. Your logic doesn’t make sense to me. And I’m immune to your charm.”
“Is that so?” he replied, his eyes sparkling with…was that mischief in those deliciously dangerous eyes?
“Yes,” she nodded emphatically, even though it was a complete lie. “Quite so. And if you’ve done something for those girls, I should know about it. So, what’s on the paper?”
Again, he shook his head. “Use my name, Harper. And I’ll show you. In fact, I’ll show you anything that you’d like.”
Now, why did that offer sound so naughty? Even though she suspected she was playing with fire, Harper played along, “What if I don’t want to see anything after all?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Fine. Then I’ll see you at dinner tonight.”
Seduced by the Sheik Page 6