by Holly Rayner
Khaleel nodded. “There are so many places to visit on the planet; you could spend your entire life traveling and not get to see them all.” He smiled. “At least, not as thoroughly as they deserve. You could probably manage to set foot in every city, in every country, if you really tried.”
Aurora chuckled. “I don’t know if I want to go to every city of every country, but I want to see as much of this planet as I possibly can,” she told him. “I grew up in North Carolina. My hometown was so small, all I ever wanted to do was get out there and see what the world was like. The rest of it, you know?”
“That makes sense,” Khaleel said, nodding again. “I think I traveled for the first time when I was nine months old; my father had some summit to go to, and he convinced my mother to come with him and bring me.” He shrugged. “I don’t have any memory of it, obviously—but I’ve pretty much been on the move ever since.” He licked his lips and an expression flitted across his face that Aurora couldn’t quite read. “I never feel completely awake when I’m at home.”
“I know what you mean,” Aurora said. “The few times I’ve gone back home to my parents', it’s like falling into some kind of mental sleep.”
“Restful,” Khaleel pointed out, “but kind of unfulfilling.” He looked out over the ocean and Aurora followed his gaze. They watched the last purple-red spectacle of the sun descending beyond the horizon for a few moments in silence, and Aurora wondered what Khaleel was thinking about.
“What’s your favorite place you’ve ever been?”
Khaleel started, glancing at her and then shifting backward to recline on the soft, warm sand. “A family friend of mine, he has this little place, an estate in Sardinia. Up in the hills, a million miles away from anything. He lets me borrow it sometimes.” Khaleel smiled slightly. “It’s beautiful there; peaceful without being somewhere that makes me feel numb. Wine, delicious food, music…it’s just wonderful. What about you?”
Aurora considered the question. “There was this tiny town in Vietnam,” she said slowly. “I was stuck there a couple of days—transport was off for a holiday—but I almost didn’t want to move on by the time everything opened up again. I ate the best soup I have ever had, made by an old woman who sold it by the bowl in the streets. It was better than anything I’ve ever tasted.” Aurora smiled. “Everyone there just seemed to be…content, I guess. Everyone knew each other, everyone worked hard but they had plenty of time to relax and talk to each other. I’m probably just imposing my own idyllic notions on them…but it was nice. Quiet and noisy at the same time.”
Khaleel chuckled. “Someone from Vietnam could visit your hometown and say the same thing,” he pointed out.
“Point taken” Aurora chuckled. “I just think some people, like me, and maybe like you; I don’t know you well enough, are maybe just… We can’t fully appreciate the place we come from, because there’s this itch to look for more.”
“That sounds about right,” Khaleel agreed. “It’s not that I’m unhappy…”
“If you were unhappy with billions of dollars at your disposal, then there’s no hope for anyone,” Aurora pointed out.
Khaleel laughed. “Billions aren’t everything,” he told her. “But it’s not an unhappiness. It’s a feeling like you want something you can’t quite find. It’s there in the corner of your eye, or just beyond the tips of your fingers.” He looked out over the water again. “Look,” he said, his voice lightening.
“The stars?” Aurora followed the Sheikh’s pointing hand.
“I used to stargaze with my father sometimes,” Khaleel said. “When I was very, very young. Before the responsibilities started.” He sighed. “You know most of the stars have Arabic names, right?”
Aurora considered the question. “Which ones?” She tried to think of the names of stars she knew.
“Betelgeuse, there,” Khaleel told her, pointing. “It’s part of the constellation Orion. Alnilam, in the same constellation—it means ‘the string of pearls’. Alnitak, Orion’s belt.” Khaleel pointed to more. “Altair, the flying—the eagle. And there’s Deneb, the tail of the hen, part of Cygnus.”
Aurora listened and watched as Khaleel pointed out more and more stars, telling her the names and giving her the translations as the darkness deepened around them. As the sky went pitch black with the pinpoint stars twinkling on the velvet-looking backdrop, lights came up on the yacht.
“Ugh, that makes it harder to see the stars,” Aurora said irritably.
Khaleel chuckled. “It’s the signal for us to get back on board,” he told her. “The tide will be coming in soon, and that makes it harder to swim back.”
He rose to his feet and Aurora suppressed a feeling of annoyance at the prospect of going back to the yacht. Only hours before, she had looked at the vessel as her chance to get away from all of the troubles plaguing her; now it was a reminder of the frustrations of her situation. Aurora sighed and got to her feet, dusting the sand lightly from her clothes and following Khaleel back into the water.
The swim back was more leisurely than the one to shore had been, and as they approached the yacht, Aurora had to admit that part of her irritation stemmed from the fact that she was there at Khaleel’s pleasure—he could abandon her on the island if he wanted to, and she wouldn’t have much that she could do to counter it. She also realized that she felt more than a little bit guilty about the fact that she’d stowed away and then lied to the man. She tried to tell herself that she didn’t have much choice once she’d given into the impulse, but that was a lie. She could have turned herself in, just as Khaleel could have confronted her immediately instead of toying with her.
Khaleel insisted that Aurora climb up onto the deck before him. “It’s dark here in the shadows,” he said. “If you slip, there should be someone here in the water to make sure you aren’t hurt.”
Khaleel followed behind her and they both clambered onto the deck. The breeze gave Aurora a slight chill and she shivered until one of the crew members appeared with big, fluffy towels; the woman holding them gave Khaleel his and then, with a doubtful expression on her face, handed one to Aurora.
“Let me show you to your quarters,” Khaleel said. “You can have dinner there; I’ll give orders that you’re to have whatever you want from the kitchens.” He started off, and Aurora followed, feeling the fatigue in her legs from the swim; it was a sweet kind of ache, and in the back of her mind, Aurora was glad that Khaleel had invited her out to shore with him.
Khaleel came to a stop at a door along one of the winding corridors that made up the yacht’s interior, and Aurora tightened the towel around her. “There will be your quarters. There are some clothes in the dresser,” he said. “Some pajamas, I think—maybe something you can wear during the day. You can send your wet clothes to the laundry and they’ll be taken care of.” He looked at her for a moment and smiled. “Have a good night, Aurora.”
“I do still kind of resent you for confining me to this ship,” Aurora told him, though there was no real conviction in her voice when she said it. If she was honest with herself, she knew very well that there were much, much worse things that Khaleel could have done when he discovered he had a stowaway on board.
“You’ll sleep well, at least,” Khaleel said, giving her a faint smile before turning away. “If there's anything you need, let someone know. I’ll put the word out.”
Aurora watched him disappear down the hallway and then opened the door to her room, stepping through it tentatively. It was not nearly as grand as Khaleel’s suite, but it was easily ten times more luxurious than her cruise ship cabin had been. Aurora’s gaze took in the full-size bed, the furnishings that were just as clean and ornate as those in Khaleel’s room, if somewhat smaller and more compact. Her quarters also boasted an ensuite with a shower and a bath, not as huge as her host’s but more comfortable than what she had back in her own apartment.
Aurora wandered around the room, looking everything over, shaking her head to herself at the strangeness of her circumsta
nces. The drawers in the dresser were sparsely populated with clothes, but there were a few things that Aurora thought she might be able to wear.
She stripped off her clothes and tossed them into the laundry hamper in the bathroom, stepping into the shower stall and pulling the glass door shut behind her. Khaleel had also provided for toiletries; whether the soap, shampoo, and conditioner in the shower were simply always there for guests, or he had had them provided specifically for her, Aurora didn’t know, but she was grateful to be able to get thoroughly clean. She washed her hair and scrubbed the salt off of her body, standing under the hot water for a few minutes to savor the feeling.
A little packet left on the bathroom sink had a comb, a brush, and a few other necessities. Aurora dried herself off, combed her hair, and wrapped one of the copious towels around her head before she slipped into a pair of pajamas.
She looked around the room again, bemused and oddly pleased at her quarters, and tried to decide what she wanted to have to eat. “There has to be some kind of menu,” she said to herself, glancing at the various surfaces in the room.
There was a phone on a nightstand next to the bed, and a directory of extensions throughout the yacht, just like on a cruise ship. Aurora found no menu, but when she called down to the galley, one of the crew members told her that the menu was fixed for the night by the Sheikh—she could have what the man was eating in his own room, or she could order something she liked, and they would see if they had the supplies. Aurora settled for the same meal that Khaleel had ordered for himself and thanked the crew member. It was early still, but Aurora knew that by the time she ate something, she would be just about ready to turn in for the night.
EIGHT
Aurora couldn’t remember how it was that she had ended up back in Miami; but somehow, she was miles away from the boat, wandering around an art gallery—she thought it looked like Spinello Projects. Somehow, the space was much bigger than she recalled it being, hopelessly vast, the walls moving farther away from her the farther she walked. Art flowed around her, wavering and then resolving, and Aurora wondered if she’d somehow managed to drink something spiked. What am I even doing here? I haven’t been to Spinello in months.
She had no answer; Aurora just knew that she was exactly where she was supposed to be, wandering around and through a sparse crowd, looking for someone in particular—though she couldn’t say who it was she was looking for. She was dressed in a more beautiful cocktail dress than she could remember ever owning, in a deep amethyst color that made her skin glow. Aurora looked around, glancing at fleeting faces in the crowd, trying to remember why it was that she had come to the gallery, and who it was she was looking for.
Time flowed by without Aurora counting it, and as she wandered around the gallery, she forgot that she had even questioned her presence in the space. She looked at artwork, stopping to admire a painting or a photograph.
“Aurora, it’s good to see you here.”
She turned quickly, and her gaze fell on the face of Khaleel. She started, staring at him in shock for what felt like an eternity, unable to quite believe the fact that he was right there in front of her. “Khaleel?”
“Who were you expecting?”
The Sheikh smiled slowly, and Aurora’s shock dissipated enough for her to truly take him in. He looked almost exactly the way he had when he’d summoned her to his room, wearing a crisp, tailored suit that did nothing to disguise his lean, muscular frame. A bright red flower bloomed at his lapel, and Aurora glanced down at her dress to see that Khaleel’s flower was the same kind as hers—pink instead of white, but the petals the same shape.
“I don’t know,” Aurora replied, just as Khaleel touched her arm in a ghostly caress. “I don’t even remember why I came out tonight.”
Khaleel laughed. “You agreed to meet me, remember?”
Aurora suddenly did—she had come to the gallery for the opening of a new show.
“You look absolutely stunning.”
“Thank you,” Aurora said, confusion still swirling in her mind. But then she realized that her confusion didn’t matter; she was where she was supposed to be, she had found what she had been looking for.
“Shall we take a wander around? Or have you gotten your fill of art?”
Aurora looked around, aware that the people in the gallery seemed to be moving strangely—fast and slow at the same time, almost dancing around her.
“I want to look around a little bit more,” she told Khaleel. She was trying to figure out how she felt, trying to understand the strange feeling of being displaced in time. Khaleel’s hand closed on hers and Aurora wove her fingers between his automatically.
They wandered the seemingly endless gallery, and Aurora had the impression that she’d seen all of the art somewhere before. Khaleel asked her opinion of this painting, that sculpture, the installation that hugged one wall. Something about his questions tugged at a memory in the back of Aurora’s head. Have I been here before?
“I think we’ve made the full circuit,” Khaleel said. “Do you feel like going to dinner?”
“Sure,” Aurora said, not entirely sure of what she was agreeing to. For an instant everything went black, and then just as suddenly, Aurora found herself in a spacious, low-lit dining room, in a high-end restaurant somewhere downtown.
Khaleel sat across the table from her, and she seemed to have come back to herself in the middle of a conversation.
“Have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying?” Khaleel didn’t sound angry, just amused.
“Of course,” Aurora said tartly. “You were telling me about art galleries you’ve visited around the world.”
“Okay,” Khaleel said, still looking amused. “So which do you want to visit next? Anywhere in the world.”
“Can I pick somewhere I’ve already been, or does it have to be somewhere new?”
“Somewhere new,” Khaleel told her, nodding firmly. “We can visit the ones you’ve been to before after you’ve seen all the new ones on the list.”
“Can we visit Paris?” Aurora felt her cheeks warming—she couldn’t quite believe she was planning a trip abroad with someone she’d only just met.
“Of course! My family has an apartment just a few blocks away from the Eiffel tower,” Khaleel told her. “We can look at all three of the big museums, visit a few of the smaller galleries.”
“How long are we talking about?” Aurora smiled, unable to help herself. “I mean, there is a lot of art in Paris.”
“I’d say a week at least,” Khaleel replied, looking thoughtful. “That way we can take our time, and go to plenty of restaurants as well.”
Aurora laughed, shaking her head. “A week in Paris? I’ve got responsibilities of my own, you know.”
“This from the woman who spent months backpacking through—what was it? Thailand, Vietnam, Singapore?” Khaleel smiled at her. “I don’t believe it. You know how to drop your responsibilities for a while.”
“That was planned! Not just going on a whim.”
“You went on a whim. You found the money to go, and you went.”
Aurora shrugged. “We can agree to disagree,” she said with a smile.
Somehow the dinner flowed by her; she knew that she ate something, and that it was delicious, but not what it was. Aurora found herself leaving the restaurant with Khaleel, stepping out into the balmy Miami air. Khaleel took her hand in his, led her along the sidewalk outside of the anonymous restaurant, and then they were in the back seat of a limo together.
“I’m glad you decided to meet me,” Khaleel told her.
“I don’t actually remember deciding,” Aurora countered. “But I’m glad I did, too.”
Khaleel chuckled lowly, carefully pulling her just a little bit closer to him on the back seat. “The entire time you were on the yacht, I was thinking about how I could convince you that I wanted you,” he said quietly. “I didn’t think it would be a good idea to make a move on you then, but now that you’re free…
”
“Now that I’m free?”
“Now that you’re free, I don’t have to feel guilty. You can say no whenever you want.” He pulled her into his arms and pressed her body lightly against his as he leaned in.
Aurora gasped as Khaleel brushed his lips against hers, and then deepened the kiss, his hands sliding over her, caressing her everywhere.
She shifted in his arms, tasting his lips and tongue, feeling his body against hers—first ghostly and insubstantial, then somehow more than real, hyper-real. Their bodies slipped and slid, and Aurora lost herself in the passion of the moment, her skin tingling, heat rising through her body, making her shiver in Khaleel’s arms. She wanted more—she wanted to be alone with him, wanted to take in the sight of him in detail. She remembered all too vividly the way the Sheikh had looked when she’d first met him, coming out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel. She hadn’t realized how much that image had stayed with her, how it had stirred something that no amount of resentment at her confinement could possibly suppress.