by Diana Fraser
He reached for his towel and began to dry himself with his back to her. He didn’t want her to think he’d been looking at her. He plucked a bottle of soda water from the fridge and lay on a lounger next to her. The mid-morning sea breezes were picking up and the palm leaves were dipping and swaying above their heads. As he sipped his drink and gazed determinedly out to sea, and occasionally to Ela, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking and feeling a million things he’d never allowed himself to feel before.
By the time she awoke, and turned to look at him, the clouds of sleep still lingering in her eyes, he knew that he was doing more than look out for her—he was falling for her and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to pull himself out from under her spell.
“I’ve been asleep,” she said surprised, sitting up. “I never sleep during the day.”
“Maybe your sleep at night has been disturbed.”
“It always is. I’m simply a bad sleeper.”
“Not just then you weren’t,” he said, handing her a drink.
“It’s strange,” she said, her relaxed mood still prevailing. “There’s something about this place which makes me feel…” She frowned. “Calm and…”
“Safe,” he prompted. She turned to him and nodded.
“I can’t remember the last time I felt like this.”
“That’s good.” He didn’t add that it made him feel good that he could protect her, that he could make her feel safe. He didn’t think she’d appreciate that knowledge. Not yet, anyway.
“Is it?” Her beautiful brow furrowed. “Shouldn’t I feel safe and calm in my own land?”
He nodded slowly. “You should, and you will. Once you’ve got this out the way.”
“Even before this I always felt… on guard.”
He remembered Shakira’s words. “Defensive.”
“Yes, I’ve had to be.”
Instinctively he reached out and placed his hand on her arm. She lifted her head sharply. “You don’t need to defend yourself against anyone here, or anyone in the future. I’ll make sure of that. There will be no one who will attack you.”
“How can you be so certain?”
“Because I’ll make sure of it.”
She smiled. “Thank you. I can’t see how you’ll make sure of it, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
She swung her legs off the recliner and he caught a glimpse of slim ankles and narrow feet as her abaya lifted briefly. Their delicacy got to him. He looked up to find her watching him. She rose and twitched her abaya back to cover her legs.
He stood up and determinedly looked away, out to the navy blue line of the horizon. He narrowed his gaze as if looking at something in particular. But the only thing he was doing was thinking of someone in particular—the woman who stood, uncertain, by his side.
They both began to speak at the same time.
Xander thrust his fingers through his short hair. “You go first.”
“No, please you.”
“I just wanted to apologize, Ela. I should never have kissed you last night.”
She narrowed those beautiful eyes on him. “And why is that?”
He shrugged. How could he put his thoughts into words? “It was an impulse, and not one I should have indulged. I’m sorry.”
Her face turned pale and impassive, devoid of emotion. She grunted and gave a slight, measured shrug. “It’s not important.”
It was his turn to feel the emotion turn to chill. He felt the reverse. He’d apologized because it had felt important. And to hear from her that it meant nothing made him feel an idiot.
Her mouth was firm and her lips pursed as she smoothed down her abaya, looking everywhere but at him. Her actions reinforced the fact that he was of no more importance to her other than someone to guard her in this one moment of need. And he knew that as soon as that need was over, she’d be gone.
“It’s time we returned,” she said crisply. “There may be news.”
“Sure,” he said. “As well as my inquiries, the other kings and Shakira are also looking into it.”
“Good. Then I’m sure I won’t have to be your unwanted guest for much longer.”
She turned on her heel and walked across the beach toward the path. And all he could do was follow her and muse on the thought that it hadn’t taken her long to return to her old, cold ways.
He was falling for her and he didn’t want to be. He’d contact Roshan and the others and let them know that she definitely couldn’t stay here any longer. She had to go. But, even while he was thinking this, he knew that he would only let her go if she was safe. They might have no future together, but it didn’t make him stop caring for her.
* * *
Elaheh walked swiftly along the track toward the palace. She couldn’t bear to look at him in case her outward cool crumpled, and he realized the truth—that she’d lied to him. She’d told him his kiss wasn’t important, and it was. Because his kiss had made her aware that she wanted him like she’d never wanted a man before. Because for the first time in forever she thought of a man without fear, and without distaste.
But she’d been wrong. She’d been tricked by the kiss into almost believing that she could have what so many women the world over had—the love of a good man—both physical and emotional. And she couldn’t. Because even if Xander had any interest in her—and it certainly didn’t sound as if he did—that interest would swiftly disappear once he knew the truth about her.
Chapter 6
The next day Elaheh awoke to the muezzin’s call to prayer coming from the city’s great mosque. The cooler air of the sea breeze caressed her bare skin, and she felt an unusual sense of peace. Then she suddenly remembered where she was. Not her country. Not her palace. A rap at the door sent her reaching for her bedclothes, and realizing that it had been the sound that had awoken her from her deep sleep. She sat up with a start.
She slid down the bed. “Come!”
Xander opened the door slowly and looked in warily. He looked away sharply. “I’m sorry,” he said, staring at the door, “I didn’t think you’d still be in bed. I’ll come back later.”
“Have you found anything?” she asked.
He paused, part way closing the door, his hand gripping the door handle like a lifeline. “No,” he said, his eyes still firmly turned away from her. “Unfortunately not. Our investigations haven’t turned up anything. But we do have a lead on the notepaper used, and we’re following that up.”
“The notepaper?”
“Yes, he made the mistake of using a hallmarked paper which originated from only one manufacturer. I have someone in Paris checking out the retailers who stock it. Of course, online sales will be difficult to trace. But not impossible.”
She nodded slowly, her mind racing to try to remember if she knew anyone who’d returned from Paris in the past year. “You forget, my country doesn’t do much in online sales.” She looked at him, frozen in the door way, talking to the door. “Xander! Come on in. I hardly think we need to stand on ceremony with everything that’s happening!”
“Right,” he said closing the door and stepping into the room, his eyes apparently now transfixed by the view outside the window. “Right,” he said as if trying to persuade himself that it truly was right.
She grunted with impatience. “Stay there, and I’ll put on my robe.”
As he turned his back to her, she leaped out of bed and grabbed a robe, tying it firmly around her. “You can turn around now.”
But when he turned she blushed, as the expression in his eyes wasn’t as business-like as she’d anticipated.
She cleared her throat, and forced her hands away from the knotted sash which was the only thing hiding her nakedness. She met his eyes steadily. “As I said, online shopping isn’t big in my country.
“That makes it easier. Hopefully we’ll have news soon. But, in the meantime.” He pressed his lips together as if reluctant to speak.
“In the meantime?” she prompted. “What? You want me to leave?
”
“Yes. Having you here, is proving… difficult.”
“For whom? You’re the only one who knows I’m here.”
He nodded. “For me. Our relationship has never been easy and, I fear…” He trailed off, as if at a loss for words. He was never at a loss for words.
She held up her hand as if to stop a flow of words which had already stopped. He obviously deeply regretted their brief kiss. It made her angry, because she couldn’t regret it. “That’s fine. You needn’t say anything further. Your meaning is quite clear. You want me to leave, and I shall.”
He sighed and put his hands on his hips, her anger breaking down his last remaining shreds of discomfort. “Don’t do that, Ela!”
“Do what?”
“Go all queenly on me. Jump to conclusions.”
“I thought you’d be pleased I agree to your demands. I thought it would make life easier for you.”
“Nothing to do with you will make my life easy.” They stared at each other in impasse. It was Xander who broke the silence. “Look, I didn’t mean that. What I want is for you to listen to me. I’m not telling you to leave me. I’m saying that we should both leave here together. I’ve spoken to Roshan and he’s suggested we move to the desert palace where the kings meet. We’ll be less… on top of each other there. There will be more physical space and, I believe you’ll be more comfortable in the desert.”
She tilted her head to one side. “And you’re coming with me?”
He nodded his head. “It’s been agreed.”
She suddenly understood. “The others have persuaded you to go with me.”
He gave one brief nod, and in that she understood everything. He couldn’t wait to get rid of her. A jab of pain filled her, swiftly followed by an unfamiliar emotion she refused to name. She quashed it as quickly as it had risen.
“I hadn’t realized you disliked me so much. When you kissed me, it didn’t seem like it.” The moment the words had tumbled out she regretted them.
“Ela! You have to understand! I don’t dislike you and I enjoyed our kiss—I did,” he added. She didn’t know if he were trying to persuade himself or her. “But that is exactly what makes this whole situation impossible! You’re vulnerable and I have no intention of taking advantage of that vulnerability. And, to be honest, I’m afraid that things could get out of hand. On a personal basis,” he said, his vagueness hiding nothing.
She exhaled a tightly held breath of understanding. “Ah. You can rest assured that nothing will get out of hand. I’m not keen for my future to include a man.”
“And why is that?” There was nothing about the tone of his question that was casual. It was evident in the tone, and in his eyes, and the way he stopped shifting around and stood, motionless, awaiting her reply.
“A man will bring me no joy, and I certainly won’t be able to make a man happy.”
“And why is that?” he repeated. It seemed he was determined to get to the root of her pain.
They stared at each other in stony impasse for a few moments, as the secret she kept tight inside her began to ache, as if it wanted to find the relief of openness. She drew in a breath as if about to speak but shook her head instead.
“And why is that?” Xander repeated once more. Then he stepped towards her and she knew that her secret was in danger, as the protective shell with which she’d so competently surrounded herself began to fracture. The thudding of her heart grew louder. It filled her body, her ears, her head. She thought she’d burst as the thudding grew in intensity. She couldn’t seem to get her breath.
“Ela?” Xander repeated. “Are you okay?”
She couldn’t speak. If she did, she thought her heart would literally jump out of her mouth. Either that or a scream would emerge. And she instinctively knew that that scream wouldn’t be a ladylike sound of alarm, but would have all the primeval intensity of an animal cornered.
Then Xander did something she wished he hadn’t—he reached out tentatively toward her. She just stared at his hand and then back at him, and he withdrew his hand to his side.
But still she felt unable to move, consumed by the beating of her heart and the mounting panic which had risen from someplace deep inside of her. It reminded her of the time and place when she had felt the same. After that she had buried it tight, encased it in solid scar tissue, and embalmed it so that it was watertight, emotion-tight, invulnerable. But now, somehow, after all these years, this man before her had cracked its shiny hard surface with one slight tap of his hand and a split had occurred, which had let out that thing which lay inside of her.
“Ela? You have to tell me what’s going on.” He stood with his hands on his hips, anxiety etched in his expression. His eyes darted around her face before sighing heavily. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.” He reached out again and this time nothing she could say or do would make him stop. He put his hands firmly around her shoulders and dipped his head and stared into her eyes. “Whatever it is you’re hiding, you need to tell me.”
She tried to pull his hands away but they wouldn’t move; she tried to claw his fingers, prize them from her flesh but they only dug in deeper.
“You can’t push me away this time, Ela. It’s time to tell me what the hell is going on inside that beautiful head of yours. Tell me what happened to you, tell me what has made you so scared of men. Tell me,” he repeated.
Terrified, she pressed her lips together and shook her head, tight little shakes, but the pounding of her heart only increased. She began to feel dizzy, as the world moved, shifted, as if it were torn down the middle, stopped making sense. The tears which had misted her eyes gathered and trickled down her cheeks. She was shaking now. Her lips were trembling with the effort of keeping her mouth closed. Then she could do it no longer and she closed her eyes tight, hoping that still she might be able to control the raging torrent of emotion which threatened to consume her.
He brought her to him and held her tight. It was as if the wave of emotion transferred to him, relieving her of the pressure. She might not have told him her secret, but, somehow he’d lessened her pain.
Eventually he pulled away and held her shoulders gently, his eyes searching hers. “Ela, whatever is going on, please tell me.” His voice was gentle now, too. It was time.
She bit her lip and nodded. “Everyone wishes me to marry. But…”
“Go on,” he urged.
“I’m scared. Marriage. I’m scared of it because there is no way I can make any man happy.” She turned to him, her cheeks blazing like a beacon, and her eyes bright with tears.
He frowned and cocked his head to one side. “What are you talking about? Of course you can. You are beautiful, intelligent and”—he sighed—“sexy as hell. So I don’t see why you think you cannot make a man happy.”
She hadn’t wanted to tell anyone how she felt. It was her secret, locked up inside of her alongside all the other trauma she’d suffered. Sealed with a kick.
“Just take it from me, I can’t.”
“No, I won’t take anything except the truth. How can I understand if you don’t tell me?”
“Understanding isn’t required. Marriage isn’t for me, and that’s that.”
“I’m not leaving until you give me a proper answer. Tell me why you have no wish to marry.”
She frowned at his insistence. Why did he care whether or not she married? It wasn’t as if this was anything personal for him, was it?
“Please, Ela. Tell me what you’re so afraid of.”
She licked her lips. “Relations, between a man and a woman.” His frown deepened. “For heaven’s sake, Xander, I’m afraid of sex. Something happened, you see, and I can’t bear the thought of it.”
His hands froze on her shoulders, just as his eyes froze over hers. She felt the change in him like she knew she would. She’d hoped he’d understand, or at the very least accept her for what she was about to tell him. But she knew, deep in her heart that he wouldn’t. He was a ma
n after all. And men didn’t like used goods, didn’t care for unpleasantness.
“What happened?” he asked, his voice hoarse with emotion. This time she didn’t fight him, lifting her chin so she faced him. Suddenly all the fight had left her.
“I was raped. I was young…” She swallowed. “It was a stranger. A Bedouin nomad. Mad, I think. He took me away, did what he did, and then dumped me back at the camp.”
She watched as Xander swallowed a lump. She kept her eyes on his throat as it convulsed. It was easier than seeing the inevitable disgust and pity in his eyes.
“Did your father know?” he asked eventually.
“He never knew. My mother kept it secret, made up a story to cover my hospital visits.” He didn’t speak and she suddenly realized that the noise of the thumping of her heart had stopped, and she was filled with an unexpected sense of peace. The worst had happened. Her shameful secret was out. She sighed and lifted her eyes to his. She blinked as she tried to reconcile her expectations with the sight of Xander in tears.
They weren’t just a glazing in the eye but tears rolled down his face and his eyes… the expression within them revealed a depth of hurt and agony, the like of which she wouldn’t have dreamed lay inside of Xander.
She cupped his cheek with her palm. “Xander! I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” He did nothing to wipe away his tears but, instead, held her tight. He pressed his cheek to the top of her head. She could feel the damp of his tears penetrate her hair. She didn’t cry. She didn’t think she’d ever cry again. “What are you sorry for?”
“For having your opinion of me changed. I can’t bear the thought of sex, I never intend to have sex. I can never make a man happy, and I can never be made happy by a man. It’s that simple.”
“There’s nothing simple about this.” He swore under his breath and held her face tight in his hands. “Listen to me, Ela. You’re wrong. Something awful was done to you and it wasn’t your fault. It resulted in damage, which also wasn’t your fault. And your fear of sex, that, also is not your fault. You can’t keep punishing yourself for something which wasn’t your fault.”