by Lynn, Sophia
When Makeen was slow to answer, Olivia bit her lip. She had no money to bribe this man. She had nothing, except …
“I … I'll do whatever you want,” she said softly. “That is how much he means to me. I'll give you whatever you like …”
Makeen thrust himself back from the table as if he had found something disgusting in his tea. The contemptuous, incredulous look on his face made her heart sink. She knew that her cheeks were bright with embarrassment, but she forced herself to keep going.
“Please, Makeen, I swear, I will do anything …”
“Do you even know what you are offering?” he asked, his voice cutting. “When you look like you are barely out of school?”
“I'm twenty-four,” she responded defiantly. “I'm old enough to decide what I want to do.”
Makeen's dark eyes glittered like those of some kind of predator that hunted only in the dead of night. When she had met him, she had thought him to be kind. Now she saw the other side of him, the one that could easily destroy something that displeased him. This was the man who held the power of life and death over her brother, and she knew that David's life hung by a thread.
“I really don't think you know what you are offering,” he said, his voice low and almost silky with menace. “I think that you are a foolish child.”
Olivia could feel her heart beat faster, this time with rage as well as with embarrassment. She wasn't a child, and now she had to prove it to him. She thought about arguing further, but that had gotten her nowhere. Instead, the time had come to take action.
Makeen looked startled when she stood. Perhaps he thought she would flee in humiliation and never return, but that only meant that he did not know her so well. She was a woman who was intent on making her way in the world, and her soul was full of steel.
She set her hands on his shoulders to hold him still, and then her lips came down on his. It was a desperate gamble. He might have decided that he was disgusted with her display, storming off in distaste, but she had seen the way his eyes flickered at her form in the black dress.
For a moment, Makeen was utterly still, and then his hands came up around her hips, dragging her onto his lap. She nearly struggled, but Olivia reminded herself that this was precisely what she had wanted to happen, and gave herself to the kiss.
For a moment, he simply let her kiss him, but she could feel the shift when he began to respond. His hands tightened on her body, and his mouth slanted harder on hers. His tongue started teasing her lips, opening them so he could taste her mouth.
Olivia had kissed men before, but never a man like Makeen. She had never been with a man whose power and passion touched something deep inside her and who could draw forth a powerful response from her merely with his mouth. Without willing it, her body pressed closer to his, and she tilted her head so that he could kiss her precisely as he liked. She lost herself in the moment. She knew that she was kissing him for a reason, but as the pleasure took her over, she forgot that they were kissing for any reason except to be kissing.
Olivia gasped when he pulled away. She stared as he stood, dumping her rudely out of his lap. She might have fallen to the floor if he had not caught her and set her right. For a moment, he looked completely furious, but then he covered it.
Makeen pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket, handing it to her. “Here, wipe whatever it is you have on your face off,” he said. “It's terrible on you.”
She took the handkerchief, but instead of using it, she only stared at him. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice shaken. It could have been because she was worried about what he might do, but it was more than that. She had never been kissed the way he had kissed her. She had never felt her body rise up and cry out with desire that had been briefly granted and then taken away.
He glared at her, making her shrink back for a moment. In that moment, she knew what a rabbit must feel when a wolf appeared out of the night.
“I am going to make a few calls. I will come back in here in precisely an hour. I will tell you what I can do. After that, if you want me to do it, you will be ready to leave with me for a month. After that, for a month, you have no rights except those that I give you. You will go where I say, eat what I tell you to, wear what I give you. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir,” she said softly, and unexpectedly, his face softened.
“My name is Makeen,” he said quietly. “Call me that instead.”
“Yes, Makeen,” Olivia whispered, and if he did not smile, at least he did not scowl.
He strode off, already speaking on his phone.
Olivia stared after him for a moment, and then made her own way to the door. She didn't have much to pack, but there were explanations to make to her family, even if they wouldn't care all that much.
When she got up to the apartment, she found the letter from Johannesburg waiting where she had seen it.
Olivia opened it with shaking fingers, and then her eyes blurred with tears as she read the words she had wanted to see most.
… pleased to offer you a seat in the reserve orchestra … a step in moving your professional career forward … greatly looking forward to adding your talents to our reserves … be in Johannesburg in one week …
There was nothing to be done for it. She shook as she threw the letter into the wastebasket. She needed David safe more than she wanted that seat in the reserve orchestra in Johannesburg. She felt as if there was a large weight weighing down her shoulders, and she would have to live with it forever.
Then, for some reason, she found herself thinking of Makeen, his lean hands, his dark eyes. For some reason, the weight lifted, and she was able to go pack. It felt as if one phase of her life was ending and another just starting, but she had no idea what it meant.
Chapter Four
Makeen found himself hoping that Olivia would not appear. Despite her insolence and her bravado, there was something truly afraid in her eyes when she looked at him. It was, after all, no small thing that she was asking of him, which he discovered when he ended up talking with the investigators on the case.
David Majors was a petty criminal, one who had gotten in well over his head. He had some small skill with cars, and those higher up in the organization had started using him for some of their more intricate car thefts. He was poised to move up when the sting happened, and when it came to prosecution, the attorneys were intent on going for the most charges they could bring against him.
The head investigator had chafed a little when Makeen ordered him to be freed, but he hadn't fought much. It pained Makeen to anger the man after such a successful operation, but when he hesitated, all he could see were Olivia's heartbroken copper eyes.
The thought brought up a strange mix of fury and pity in him that he didn't want to examine too closely. On one hand, the girl was out of line. Her brother was a criminal, and if she thought that she could win him free with nothing more than the promise of her body, she might be no better.
But then … then he thought of her eyes as she faced down that police officer. Frightened, defiant, and in some sad way, resigned to her place in the world. She was a genius with her violin, and there was a curious beauty to her that he had never seen before.
At the end of it, he could not bring her more pain, more sorrow.
“Bring him to the holding cell,” he said finally. “Release him on my word. That's an order.”
And in the end, because he was the Sheikh, and because he had been working with the sting operation from the beginning, they agreed.
At the stroke of the hour, he was back in the café, wondering if Olivia would show up. Before he could even start to doubt her, however, she appeared. She had changed out of that ridiculous dress into a black T-shirt and jeans and had scrubbed the makeup off her face. She had a backpack slung over her shoulder and her ancient violin case in her hand, and there was a determined look on her pale, pretty face.
For a moment, Makeen wanted to tell her that everything was all right, that thin
gs would be fine. Instead, he only nodded when he saw her, turning his phone on.
“All right, Akeem, let him go.”
Olivia looked startled, and she started to say something, but he held up a hand, asking her to wait. He listened to Akeem for a few moments, and then he handed the phone to Olivia. She took it as if she were afraid it might turn into a snake, but in a matter of moments he saw her expression change.
When she had appeared, she looked nervous and cautious. Suddenly, all of the worry dropped off of her face, leaving her copper eyes wide with wonder and joy.
“David! Oh my God, David, are you all right? Are you …”
She paused, barely breathing as she listened to her brother, nodding along to whatever he was saying.
“Oh thank God … Look, just go home. Go home and talk to Mom and Dad. Mom's worried sick. I am so glad you are all right … I … No.”
Her face took on that determined cast again, and Makeen knew that whatever her brother was asking of her, David had run into a wall. For a moment, Makeen could hate the young criminal for causing this to happen to his sister.
“David, no. It doesn't matter. Listen to me, it doesn't matter, all right? I'm doing what I want to do. This is … this is what needs to happen.”
She listened for another moment. Even from where he stood, Makeen could hear her brother's voice, even if he couldn't make it out. The young man was frightened, angry, perhaps ready to do something foolish.
“No. No. David, this is not something that you can control. I'm sorry. I'll … I'll talk to you when I can. I love you. Please, take care of yourself, all right? At the very worst, I'll see you in a month.”
While her brother was still talking, she ended the call with a finality that was impressive, and handed the phone back to Makeen.
“Well, are you—”
His words cut off in surprise as she threw herself into his arms. One moment he was walking an ice-cold maiden laying down the law like a young queen, and now his arms were full of a beautiful young woman shaking so badly he could feel it in his own body.
“Thank you,” she whispered, looking up at him. When her copper eyes were bright with tears, they shone like new pennies. “Thank you, oh God, thank you. I didn't know what I was going to do …”
In that moment, there was nothing that Makeen wanted to do more than to comfort her and to tell her that it was all going to be all right. Instead, he pushed her back, though he did so gently.
“He will be fine as long as he understands how to stay out of trouble,” Makeen said shortly. “Though I have to say that, given your family, I find that unlikely.”
Instead of being offended, she stood back and offered him a small smile that nevertheless managed to captivate him with its brilliance.
“That would not be an inappropriate response,” she said with a slight smile. “I … Thank you for what you have done.”
There it was again, that unmistakable urge to soften in the face of the woman who stood in front of him. Makeen had to remind himself that she was likely just as much of a con artist as her brother, perhaps even worse. At the very least, David had been caught, while Olivia stood freely, using her wiles on him.
“Perhaps do not thank me until the month is up,” he said. “Come on.”
***
The small plane took off from a private runway at the international airport, and Olivia had never felt shabbier when she took her seat. Makeen, of course, seemed to see the intense luxury of the plane as nothing more than his due. A pretty young woman in a neat uniform appeared to offer them drinks or food, both of which Olivia shyly refused. Makeen, who had the attendant pour him a small glass of red wine, glanced at her curiously.
“You should take advantage of the opportunity to eat,” he said. “I can't imagine that you have managed to feed yourself so well today.”
She shrugged a little, keeping her gaze down. After they had left the café, he had virtually ignored her, talking with his people to make arrangements for some kind of trip that they were taking. She had felt like a shadow, something that was almost comforting. It gave Olivia a chance to sort out her feelings, to figure out what she was doing, and how she was going to get through the next month with this man.
“I don't eat much,” she offered, and when she glanced up, she found him scowling.
“Are you hungry?” he asked, and just like it had before, her stomach growled.
He shook his head, summoning the attendant back with a beckoning gesture. “Bring her a small platter of mezes,” he said. “A little bit of everything.”
Olivia started to protest the trouble, but the woman was already moving, and Makeen raised a dark eyebrow at her.
“One of the things that you agreed to was that you would eat what I told you to,” he said. “Are you going back on our deal already?”
“No,” she said stung, sitting up straighter. “I wouldn't.”
“Good. So when the food comes, you will eat.”
She felt a stab of irritation at his casual high-handed ways, but then it occurred to her how kind it was. Instead, she smiled a little, inclining her head.
“All right, Makeen,” she said, still getting used to his name in her mouth. “Perhaps as I eat, you will tell me where we are going?”
He looked thoughtful at that for a moment, and then shrugged. She supposed that there was no harm in telling her where they were going as she had no real ability to escape him at this point.
“We are going to an old retreat of my family's, one high in the mountains,” Makeen said, his eyes focused on the hazy sky out the window. “It is a place that has been kept for the Sheikhs of Zahar and their lovers for generations, a place of peace.”
Olivia couldn't keep herself from stirring at his use of the word lovers. “Is that what we are?” she asked, keeping her voice low so the woman at the rear of the plane wouldn't be able to hear.
“It is what we will be,” he said shortly. “It is what you agreed to, what you offered to me, unless you are pulling back?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I am only curious as to what you might … want of me.”
Makeen's gaze turned back to her, and it was so possessive, so very dominant, that it made her heart beat faster just to see it. No matter what the situation was between them, no matter what had brought them together, there was something that drew her to this man. Who knew what they would have been in other circumstances, but in the here and now, they were lovers.
“Everything,” he breathed, and her heart beat faster.
Even if she had had a response to that, the attendant returned, setting a small plate of delicate morsels in front of her. For a moment, Olivia simply stared at the plate, taking in the beauty of the food before she could bring herself to eat it. It made Makeen chuckle a little.
“Have you always been such a connoisseur of beauty, little bird?” he asked, and she glanced up at him.
“Since I was a little girl, I was often ready to sacrifice practicality for beauty,” she said. “It was something that drove my parents mad, but David, unfortunately, encouraged it. He would bring bits of glass, ornaments, things that got broken when we inevitably moved or had to leave. They broke my heart, but he still brought them to me …”
Makeen nodded, his face softening slightly. “Then your brother did he what he could to preserve your spirit, and that was well done of him.”
“It was, or at least I thought so. It turned me into someone who likes pretty food at least.”
“Pretty as it is, you should still eat it,” he said, and for some reason, it made Olivia feel slightly defiant.
“Or what?” she asked daringly, and from the slight smile that curled his lips, she could tell he understood her.
“Or I will feed it to you.”
She wasn't sure what made her lean forward, her hands crossed primly in front of her and an expectant look on her face. For a moment, Makeen only stared at her, and then he laughed.
“All right. I can
see that whatever kind of bird you are, you are a stubborn one.”
She watched, more fascinated than she thought she would be. His fingers were lean and graceful as he scooped a small amount of shiny black caviar onto a rye cracker and held it up to her lips. When he did that, she leaned forward, taking the morsel from his hand gracefully. She felt the momentary warmth of his fingertips as they brushed her lower lip, and then it was gone as she chewed the morsel with relish.
“Oh my gosh, that's so good,” she sighed happily. “More?”
Makeen laughed again, shaking his head. “Whatever else your parents did, they did not stop short of giving you nerve,” he said with admiration, and picked up another bite of food for her.
“Not like they could stop me,” she said, slightly smug.
“I think very little could,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips.
In surprisingly short order, she finished the meal that the attendant had brought to her, and she sat back in her seat, smiling with contentment. Throughout her entire strange meal, he had looked curious and fascinated with her, as if she were some kind of strange animal that he had tamed. In some ways, she supposed that he was.
“Do you do this often?” she asked, her voice soft. She knew that she might be buying trouble by asking her brother's benefactor something like that, but she had to know.
He settled back into his own chair, templing his fingers in front of him thoughtfully. When Makeen looked at her, it was with a shuttered glance that she couldn't read at all.
“Do you think I do?” he asked.
Olivia took the question seriously, examining it from every angle. Finally, when she thought she had her answer, she shook her head.
“No, not really. I think that you are a kind man, but I also think that you were surprised. You didn't expect me.”
That startled a laugh out of Makeen. “Honestly, I don't know if anyone would expect you, little songbird. And you are right. No, I have never done this before. However, it might be a habit that I have to take up if I start pulling in girls as pretty as you.”