by Kiru Taye
Then, as the car rolled towards the gates, he’d turned in his seat and looked back. She had also been glancing in his direction.
The sad expression on her face and the disappointed shake of her head as she walked into the building wrenched his gut.
He’d known then he couldn’t let her walk out of his life and back to being just his assistant.
For the first time in years, his resentment towards Toyin hadn’t been the overriding sensation.
A new emotion had overtaken his bitterness.
“Stop!” he’d instructed the driver. “Go back.”
The car had reversed and he’d jumped out as soon as it had come to a halt outside the building entrance.
Now, here he stood in front of the white wooden door with a metal plate that had number twelve written on it. Bright bulbs lit the white-walled hallway and tiled floor.
He lifted his hand and tapped on the slab with his knuckles. He sucked in a deep breath, expecting the door to be opened immediately since Ebun knew he stood outside.
Nothing happened for seconds, stretching into a minute.
He lifted his hand to knock again.
His phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his blazer pocket. There was a message from Ebun.
Why did you come back?
His heart lurched in his chest. Didn’t she want to see him? He sent a reply.
You turned back.
His phone pinged almost immediately.
What?
He typed.
When you walked to your front entrance, you turned back to look at the car. I watched you. Your expression said you didn’t want me to go.
His heart thumped hard in his chest as he waited for a response that seemed to take ages but was probably just a few seconds.
It’s true. I didn’t want you to leave.
A smile spread on his face. Then that’s why I came back.
There was another longish pause before a reply came.
You know if I open the door, it won’t be fake anymore. I won’t be acting. Everything that passes between us will be real.
He sighed and typed.
I know.
She sent. I don’t want a fake fiancé.
Again he typed. I know.
The next text came immediately. I want a real one.
His heart jolted and he scrubbed a hand over his face.
She wanted a real proposal. But he couldn’t promise her to give her one. He wasn’t sure of what he wanted in regards to marriage.
He should return to his car and go home.
Coming to her apartment had been a bad idea in the first place.
The knot in his stomach tightened. He couldn’t walk away, not without trying to work something out between them.
He sent a message.
Can we talk about it? Face to face. Please.
He counted several heartbeats before a reply came.
Promise me you’ll give me a fair chance.
He typed a quick response.
A fair chance for what?
A messaged popped.
Promise me you’ll give me a fair chance to win a place in your life and in your heart.
Shit. Why was he still standing here? This woman would be his undoing. She was asking for the impossible. Yet, he couldn’t get his feet to move in a different direction except to face her door.
He was determined to have her, even if he paid the price with his heart.
You’re not asking for much, are you?
Do you promise?
His hands shook as he typed out the words.
I do, Nawa.
He heard the click of the lock and the door handle turned. A gap appeared but he didn’t see Ebun.
He pushed the slab wider, creating enough space so he could step in and shut the door.
The moderate living room had space for two sofas accented with cushions and throws in varying shades of blue and textures, separated by a coffee table. A small glass dining table with four chairs stood at the far end, close to a door which he assumed led to the kitchen. Another door stood to his left and he assumed it led to bedrooms and bathrooms. The whole place had the elegance and femininity he’d come to associate with Ebun.
The woman in question stood with her back to him by the sliding door overlooking the balcony. A cool breeze fluttered the curtain, bringing with it the sound of the city on a Sunday evening.
“You called me nawa again,” Ebun said in a slightly shaky voice and her hands were wrapped around her midriff.
“I did.” He took steps towards her, concerned that she sounded hurt.
“I told you I wasn’t faking it anymore.” She clutched her clenched palm to her chest. “This thing that beats is real. Don’t come to my house and pretend.”
“I’m not pretending,” he said in a low voice. He stood close enough to smell her alluring scent and feel her heat in his pores.
She swivelled around and her eyes appeared glassy. “You’re not?”
He shook his head.
“I’m yours?” she asked in a tentative tone.
“I hope so.” His fingers itched to touch her supple skin. He restrained himself, knowing they would not finish this conversation if he did. “I’ve wanted you to be mine since the day we met.”
“Oh, God.” She closed her eyes and tilted her head back as her open, right palm rested on her chest. A huge grin split her face when she opened her eyes. She took a step towards him. “I’m yours and you are mine.”
“If you want me.” His lips curled upwards in response.
“Of course, I do.” She covered the space between them and pressed her front to his.
His breath caught as she stood on her toes to brush her lips against his. He settled his hands on her hips and held her steady, not wanting to get lost in her warmth and sweetness yet.
“There are complications we have to discuss,” he said.
She leaned back and looked up at him. “Okay. Let’s discuss the complications.”
She took his hand and led him to one of the sofas, lowering onto it before pulling him down beside her.
He took a deep breath and tried to work out in his head the best way to tell her what he needed. He turned so he faced her and took her soft hands in his.
“You know how I explained what happened to my branch of Danladi when my father forfeited his eligibility to be Emir.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Yes. You mentioned it.”
“Since then, it’s been my ambition to elevate my family’s position back to one of prominence within our clan as well as in the wider community. Becoming CEO was part of that ambition. And now there’s a chance that I could be in the running for the position of the future chairman of the Danladi Group.”
“That’s wonderful.” She tightened her hold on him.
“It would be. But that’s where the complication comes in. I’ve been told categorically that I’ll never be chairman if I don’t remarry.”
“Really?”
“Yes. And I also need to form alliances with members of the board of directors. This is where Laila comes in.”
Ebun stiffened and tried to pull away.
He didn’t let go. “Hear me out. Her father is on the board and his vote will come in very handy when it’s time to select the next chairman.”
“So you’re saying you need to marry Laila if you want to become the next DG chairman?”
“Pretty much.”
“So what are you doing here?”
“I’m here because I don’t want her. Not in the way that I want you. I believe I’m falling in love with you.”
Her mouth dropped open. “What?”
“I have this big knot in my gut and it gets tighter and tighter every time I think of walking away from you. But, I also have family obligations. My father failed our family and it’s been my duty to restore my family’s fortunes and status. I can’t fail them the way he did. This leaves me in a dilemma which only you can solve.”
�
��How?” She still gaped at him as if she couldn’t believe what he was saying.
There were no easy options in his life. Every decision had to be weighted for its impact and how it would affect others. His needs were always bottom of the list. His family and his duty to them always came first.
Rare were the times when he wanted to put aside the cloak of duty and responsibility that he bore with pride. In this moment, he struggled with his burden and yearned to put it aside, if only for a little while.
His pulse raced as he laid his cards on the table.
“The options are that I marry you and my family loses their status, or I marry Laila, keep the status and lose you or I marry you and Laila and keep both you and the status. I feel so strongly about you that I’m going to let you choose for me.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“You’re out of your mind, Kamali.” Ebun pulled her hands out of Kamali’s grasp and bolted off the sofa. She swivelled and glared at him, hands on hips. “How can you do this? How can you put the responsibility of your family’s future on my shoulders? That’s not fair.”
“Welcome to my world. Welcome to my reality.” He said the words matter-of-fact, his gaze steady.
His calmness only added to her irritation. “What the hell does that mean?”
He straightened from the sofa and shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and met her gaze with a steely expression.
“My name is Kamali Danladi. I’m the CEO of Danladi Cement, and a blood heir to the ancient Katsina Kingdom. My name means something. What do you think my life entails? Every decision I make has an impact that reaches beyond me. Even something as simple as the clothes I wear has ramifications.”
He spread his arms out to the sides.
“You wanted me to be real with you. This is my reality. This is who I am. My family is an integral part of me. You saw how things were when we were in Katsina. I can’t disregard them anymore than I can cut off my right arm. I love every one of them and I know they love me back with equal measure. When the chips are down, they back me up one hundred percent.”
He scrubbed a hand over his closely cropped hair. A shadow flickered in his gaze and his voice deepened.
“Around the time my wife died, my life flipped upside down. They held me together—Mum, Fahima and Yasmin. They are my backbone when it comes to raising Fari. You see the way she is with her cousins. They are inseparable because she is with them a lot of time. Fahima is more like a mother than an aunty to her.”
“I know. I saw.” Some of her anger seeped away. “You are lucky to have your family. I see that. I just...” She trailed off, not knowing the right words to use to convey her apprehension and shock at what he proposed.
“You don’t want anything to do with them,” he concluded.
“No. No. That’s not what I mean.” She puffed out a breath.
“Then, what did you mean?” He tilted his head to look at her.
“I enjoyed meeting your family. I know with time I’ll get used to them and hopefully, they’ll get used to me, if we were going to be together.”
“But?” he said as if reading her mind.
“But the whole thing is overwhelming. I can’t be the one to decide who you should marry and what happens to your family name as a result.” She let her hands rise and flop to her sides before bringing them to wrap around her midriff.
Her stomach lay in knots and the back of her throat hurt at the choice he had to make. She couldn’t choose. There was no good solution.
“Fine. You won’t decide. Then I’ll make the decision for us. I choose you as my wife.”
Her heart slammed into her chest and her eyes went wide. A rush of adrenaline went through her body and her extremities tingled.
Kamali wanted to marry her. He’d chosen her over Laila.
A smile bloomed on her face but quickly turned into a frown.
He would give up his bid to be chairman. His family would lose their status. Just as his father had done, he would disappoint the people he loved, the ones who loved him.
His family would hate her. They would never forgive her.
Kamali would eventually resent her for making him choose her.
Oh, God. This would turn into a nightmare.
She sank into the sofa and clutched her head.
“You can’t marry me,” she said in a resigned voice.
“I can,” he said in a determined tone.
She glanced up at him and leaned onto her thighs. “And make your family lose face? I don’t think so.”
Was this what relationships and marriages were about? Making tough choices? Those fairytales she’d read or even the more recent romance novels didn’t have this kind of dilemma for the characters to overcome.
“So what do you want me to do?” his voice was back to being quiet, almost distant.
She got off the sofa, turned her back to him and returned to the sliding window overlooking the balcony.
Outside, dusk settled over Lagos. Inside, gloom settled over her.
She made an absent-minded note to turn on the light. But, she didn’t reach for the switch nestled on the wall to her right.
Her heart wrenched at what she would have to do.
The week with the Danladis had taught her one thing.
Family mattered. And she wouldn’t let Kamali throw his away.
“Marry Laila,” she choked as she said the woman’s name. She couldn’t believe she was giving up her place in Kamali’s life and granting her blessing for him to marry someone else.
It had to be done.
If she’d had a cohesive family upbringing like Kamali had, she would have been fighting for hers too.
She heard the scuff of his shoes against the tiles. A few seconds later, his heat surrounded her. Her heart raced just like it always did when he stood near.
“I love you,” he said in a deep voice that vibrated through her.
“Oh, God.” The tears that had banked up behind her eyeballs spilled and she pressed her forehead against the glass. “You’re not making this easy for me.”
“Nothing is ever easy in my life.” His warm breath feathered her skin. Still, he didn’t touch her. “Nawa, do you love me?”
Her body trembled and her breath became choppy. More tears slid down her face. She yearned for him to hold her, to bury himself inside her slickness.
“I do.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I love you, Mali.”
His warm hand gripped her nape, tilted her head and took her mouth in a hungry kiss. His other hand held her hips, making sure their bodies flushed together, hard chest and abs to the curve of her back, while the rigid shaft prodded her bum cheek.
She moaned with pleasure as anticipation raced through her aided by the feverish kiss.
He grunted, rubbing and sucking her tongue as if her mouth was the main course in a banquet that consisted of her body.
She rolled her ass in a tight, circular motion against his erection.
His grip on her hip tightened and he moaned as if she tortured him.
He tormented her, and her core ached for him. She ached for him.
He released her lips, making her gasp for air.
“I need you,” he whispered as his hand tugged her skirt up and then his fingers, pushed her knickers aside, slid down the crack of her ass until they found the treasure, her slick pussy and throbbing clit.
“I need you too.” she could barely get the words out.
He pressed his lips to her neck, fastened and feasted on her skin while his fingers surged inside her dripping channel.
She let out a long moan and rocked her hips to his movement.
His left hand found her breasts, squeezed and tweaked them. His actions left her awash with sensations until she drowned in them, unable to focus on one area.
She moaned and whimpered and came apart in one feverish explosion.
She barely heard the sound of his zipper and then he pushed down on her back. She bent forward, tilting
her hips to accommodate him.
The broad head of his cock circled between her labia lips, pausing at her entrance before slamming inside.
“Oh,” she gasped. She braced her elbows and palms against the glass as well as her forehead. Her body heated, sweat slicking her skin.
He was a thick, solid man and he filled her up. He slid out slowly and slammed back in.
“Ebun, you drive me crazy.” He pulled out and rammed back in. “Now, that I’ve had you, how can you expect me to give you up?”
He held her hips and set a punishing pace that slammed her against the glass in a tempo that pulsed with the city life below.
She revelled in the pleasure and power that ebbed and flowed within her. She had a man like Kamali as hers to possess, just like he possessed her.
The sounds they made mixed with the sounds of Lagos traffic, just as their scents mixed with the night air.
“Oh, oh, oh,” she cried with each slam of his hips against hers, his rigid length making her quake with a fever that rose from her toes and exploded in a kaleidoscope of colour. “Mali!”
“Nawa,” he called as he rammed into her one last time and went rigid while his warm essence filled her up.
Afterwards, they navigated around the furniture in the dark to her bedroom. They stripped the rest of their clothes, and lay on the bed, his chest to her back, staring out at the night sky as he caressed her skin.
The regular sound of his breathing told her he’d fallen asleep, reminding her of their nights in Katsina.
This time, they were in her apartment, on her bed.
With lightness in her chest, she rolled off the mattress and grabbed her silk night robe. Thirsty, she sashayed to the kitchen to get a drink.
She skipped, shuffled and slid across the floor in a euphoric dance. She could do a moonwalk.
Kamalii loved her.
She pulled a bottle of water out of the empty fridge. Her stomach rumbled. She had no fresh food, so she would have to order something to be delivered.
She imagined then sitting at her table and enjoying a meal, just the two of them.
A smile curled her lips as she searched for her phone and found it on the coffee table where she’d left it after she’d sent text messages to Kamali.