by Tara Pammi
“Yes,” Ayaan said, moving to the window. “I persuaded the Sheikh Asad to sign a treaty four months ago, along with Zohra’s father, about better protection along the borders for all three nations. Now he’s not responding, nor is the High Council of Zuran.” Ayaan ran a hand along his nape. “I don’t like the silence on their side.”
“That’s why it’s imperative that I go.”
“I don’t understand.”
His brother had truly become everything he needed to be king. Azeez knew Ayaan was only acting ignorant to force him to put the proposal into words. But anything was better than being stuck here, visiting the past in a relentless loop. “I have contacts, Ayaan. How do you think I gathered the information that I fed you before you brought me here? I can have them dig out information on what’s going on in Zuran for you. Sheikh Asad was always a thorn in father’s side, too.”
The silence that met his statement was more deafening than an explosion. And it pulled his already stretched patience thin.
The restlessness inside him grated at him. He had never in his life been without purpose like this. And he had to find one, first a temporary one and then a permanent one.
“I don’t know that you’re physically up to—”
“Of course I am. I survived without you or your doctors for six years. I came back from a wound that tore my hip apart. I remained sane as blood left my body remembering Amira’s face and yours.” Azeez held his brother’s gaze, hating him in that moment.
“This is the one thing where I can do something to help, instead of being trapped here in this palace,” he said through gritted teeth, willing his brother to understand him. “I’ll never be anything but a prisoner inside these walls, Ayaan. When will you see that?”
A tightness inched into his face as Ayaan studied him. “Fine,” he finally said, his mouth compressed into a thin line. “Nikhat will accompany you then.”
“No.”
The denial, spat out at the same time by Nikhat and he, reverberated around the vast hall.
Both Ayaan and Zohra cast them looks, confusion and concern ringing in their gazes. “No choice for either of you,” Ayaan announced.
Azeez clicked his jaw shut, fighting for control over his temper. “Fine.” He turned toward Nikhat. “We leave at dawn tomorrow morning.”
Nikhat shivered as Azeez moved past her, and the heat from his body beckoned her. But she couldn’t let him pass without doing her duty, without asking the question that she needed to. She clasped his wrist just as he turned. “You missed your sessions two days in a row.”
His fingers landed on hers before she could blink, his mouth bared in a snarl. But whatever he had thought never came out. “No. I didn’t. I just took Khaleef with me,” he whispered in a low voice that pinged over her bare nape.
But his unguarded expression told her everything he didn’t say. He had been getting increasingly short-tempered and restless these past few days, as though struggling against invisible chains.
And just like that the pieces clicked into place. She loosened her grip on him, and he left.
She had heard the quiet whispers among the older servants about the charity function tomorrow, the annual presentation for the educational trust that was set up in her name…
How had she forgotten?
She had looked at her calendar as she always did, this morning, too, without a second’s thought.
“Would you like to explain, Nikhat?”
Nikhat braced herself and turned to face Ayaan. “There’s nothing to exp—” It was the first time she saw real fury in his copper-colored gaze.
“What in God’s name did my brother mean about always being a prisoner?”
She could just tell him it was nothing or she could tell him the truth and hope he would begin to understand. Because it was never going to be easy to accept. Thinking Azeez had been dead was one thing. Knowing he was alive somewhere in the world, but away from Dahaar, would be a special kind of torture. On every one of them. “He needs a breather, Ayaan. From you, from the palace, from everything that’s been going on.”
Princess Zohra bristled next to Ayaan. “He’s the one who’s—”
Nikhat met the princess’s gaze full on. “You do not know what he suffers, Princess. Believe me, none of us do.” Only after the words were out did she realize how defiant she sounded.
Ayaan leveled a thoughtful look at her. “Say what’s on your mind, Nikhat. Without hesitation.”
“It’s Amira’s birthday tomorrow.”
Ayaan looked as if she had struck him. Zohra’s hand found his and tightened. That’s what Azeez needed too. And despite her resolve to keep everything utterly professional between them, Nikhat realized she couldn’t leave Azeez alone. Not tomorrow, of all days.
“He…” She ran a shaking hand over her face, struggling to find the words. “He’s suffering, Ayaan, in the palace. He’s trying, for your sake, but—”
Ayaan shook his head, refusing to let her finish. “You promised me, Nikhat. You gave me your word—”
“Yes, to help him,” she burst out.
She held his gaze, saw the threat that rose to his lips.
Fear rattled inside her. She was antagonizing the future King, the man who could crash her dreams in Dahaar with one word. And for all his kindness, she had no doubt Ayaan would do anything to keep his brother close.
But even with her future hanging in the balance, she couldn’t back down from her promise to Azeez. She took a deep breath, wondering why she even put up a fight with herself. Nothing was ever simple, ever free of emotions when it came to Azeez Al Sharif. “I’m sorry I didn’t make this clear sooner. But Azeez will always have my loyalty first.”
“Then you seal your fate along with his.”
“It would seem so.” Nikhat nodded at him and Princess Zohra and left the hall with her head held high.
* * *
He was creeping through his own palace like a thief of the night, but he had left himself no choice. Behind him, the deserted corridor was bathed in yellow light from the lamps. He chanced a look at the courtyard, and the utter silence in there, in this whole wing, jeered him.
Azeez leaned his head against the closed door and struggled to get air into his lungs. He couldn’t hide forever from this. He nodded at Khaleef to open the door, and another figure appeared in the corridor and joined him.
Instead of recoiling, as everything inside him was wont to do, he let Nikhat lace her fingers with his. He didn’t question how she knew that he was standing outside Amira’s door at the first light of dawn, or how terrified he was of facing this day.
The palace was not the same without his sister’s laughter. But he had to apologize to her and he wanted to do it here, in her suite where she had laughed and cried, where she had lived such a vibrant life before his recklessness had shortened it.
He pushed the door and stepped in. The scent of Amira as he remembered—roses and something sweet—hit him in the gut. His knees buckled and tears clogged his throat, and he let them fall.
As Nikhat turned on the light, he walked around the huge chamber where everything had been left as it was before her death. Her jewelry lay haphazardly on the dark dresser, her nightstand overflowing with novels.
How he wished he could change his reckless behavior all those years ago, how he wished he had realized sooner that Amira and Ayaan had stayed back to confront him that night in the desert, how he wished he had taken the bullet that had claimed her life…
Her arm clamped around his middle, Nikhat hugged him tightly. And for once, he couldn’t find it in him to push her or the comfort she offered away. They stood like that for several minutes, drowning in memories but anchoring each other.
“Do you remember the time you complained that your prized bottle of single-malt whiskey had
disappeared?”
Frowning, he nodded.
“You raised hell about it, turned the palace upside down. For so many days, I remember seeing the palace staff whispering, scared to tell you that they hadn’t found it. It was like martial law had been declared in the palace.”
He turned toward her. “What are you talking about, Nikhat?”
“Amira paid one of the maids to steal it.” She made a choking noise with her throat and stepped back as he advanced on her. Her hands up in front of her, her head shaking, her mouth wreathed in smiles.
It made her face light up, reminding him of a carefree time. “I saved it for so long, I…”
“I begged her not to, Azeez. It was the vilest thing I ever tasted in my life. I mean, after the first few sips, I couldn’t even stomach it. I told her we should return it, but by that time you had guards outside your wing like the crown jewels were lost. We had to pour the stuff down the toilet and I smuggled the bottle out of the—”
His mouth fell open. “That was eighteenth-century whiskey that my father gave me.” He suddenly remembered something else. “She was sick that next day. Did she—?”
Nikhat was openly laughing now. “She had a whole glass of it, and she called me a coward.”
That sounded very much like his sister, always getting into trouble, always trying to find new ways to defy their mother’s rules.
“She was so drunk, Azeez. You should have seen her. She used to mimic you…you know, the way you walked and talked, the way you would blush every time you saw Queen Fatima’s friend’s daughter. She was hilarious that night. I always wished I had been more like her. So full of life, treating every day as if it was an adventure.
“Her life might have been short, but she lived it to the full. Amira had been so happy that she was going to marry the man she loved, she couldn’t stop smiling. And you, you had made it all possible, Azeez.”
And then he had led her to her death before it had come true.
She put her arm around his. “She was so angry with me when I left that she refused to see me when I came to say goodbye. I miss her so much, Azeez.”
Nodding, Azeez pulled Nikhat close, the grief inside him tempering in that moment. “Thank you for bringing back fond memories for me.”
Her hand moved over his back, her breasts pressed into his side and suddenly, an uncontrollable hunger swamped his insides. With measured movements, he pulled her out of Amira’s suite and closed the door behind him.
Her hand still in his, Nikhat looked up at him. And he studied her greedily.
Her long lashes cast shadows on her cheekbones. The little light from the wall lamps bathed her mouth in golden light. And sinking under the quagmire of grief, he took the only way out.
He pushed her against the wall and took her mouth. She tasted like honey, and it went straight to all the broken places inside him, all the places that hurt for what he had done, all the places he was killing to survive another day.
He pushed his tongue into her mouth, pressed his lower body into hers until she felt his arousal, until the imprint of her soft body was all over his.
Her hands stole under his T-shirt. Her palms were against his body and, breathing hard, he pulled back. Need pinged inside him, a sharp slice of awareness running through his blood, jolting him awake as nothing had for six years.
Her eyes were hazy with desire, her mouth swollen with his kisses. He wanted to take her right there, he wanted to forget. For one blessed moment, he wanted escape. And he would find it in her body, he knew it in his bones.
The attraction between them had only intensified with time, because now she was truly magnificent, both in mind and body.
He took a step back. “Leave, Nikhat, before I—”
She slapped her hand on his mouth, shaking her head. Her eyes were bright, the pulse at her neck throbbing, as if calling for his touch. A smile danced on her lips, of understanding, of comfort. “Please don’t say another word.”
With shadows covering half her face and revealing the other half, she was temptation and retribution come together. This woman and his desire for her, it seemed, were very much still an uncontrollable aspect of his life. And it robbed the sweet taste of her from his mouth.
She would save him and she would damn him.
“How far will you go to alleviate the guilt?”
She flinched. And yet he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to hurt her. He just wanted her to stop acting as if she cared.
“I have not been just to you. Everything I did, everything I caused, they were my actions, Nikhat. I could fall lower and hold you responsible, but the fact is that I did it all. I don’t want your guilt or your reparation.”
“Wait,” she said, halting him with her fingers on his wrist. There was a resolve to her mouth that he remembered so well. “Maybe some of it is guilt, maybe some of it is a misplaced sense of responsibility.
“But whatever the past, Azeez, we’re in this together now. Whether you believe it or not, whether you want it or not, you have my loyalty above everyone else, and you have my friendship.”
* * *
Nikhat rubbed her eyes, jolting awake as the helicopter landed. From her seat, all she could see was a specter of light behind her, illuminating the vast dunes of sand in front of her. In the twilight, the dunes looked like a sea of glistening reddish-gold, stark and yet beautiful.
She turned in place, taking in the beautiful landscape, and stilled. A resort stood about half a mile ahead of them, a fluorescent white glow lighting it up like a mythical fortress against the darkening sky. She thought she knew everything about the royal family. But she hadn’t even heard a whisper that this place existed, and she wondered if the outside world had, either.
Thankful to Azeez for reminding her to wear a jacket, she extracted a scarf from her handbag. She stood to the side as he had a word with the pilot and then the chopper left.
Only then did she make out the dark shape of a four-by-four with the old bodyguard that she remembered, Khaleef, at the wheel.
She wrapped the scarf snug around her face just as Azeez motioned for them to walk toward the resort. A gasp fell from her lips as lights came on in front of them, illuminating a wooden bridge that resembled an old drawbridge from ancient times.
Laughing, she ran a couple of steps and stepped onto the bridge. Small lights placed along either side turned on, causing tall shadows to fall from the date trees. With turreted domes and shadowed arches in front of her, she felt as if she had stepped into the pages of a book she had read when she was a child.
And the prince…
She turned around to find Azeez standing still at the first step, his coal-black gaze resting on her. She let the magical quality of the dusky evening seep into her.
Deciding that she wanted to help Azeez, not because her own future was dependent on it, not because her guilt demanded it, but because it would give her satisfaction, but because she cared what happened to him, was a relief. She felt as if a weight had lifted from her heart.
She was not going to weave impossible dreams, neither was she going to lie that they didn’t mean anything to each other.
“A bridge, really?” she said, holding on to the humor she had found in it just seconds ago.
She glanced at the fortlike structure, the exquisitely maintained lawn in front of it with a fountain and the strategically placed lights.
“No one knows this place exists, do they?”
Resuming his slow tread, he shook her head. “Only us and a handful of servants.”
“And I’m not allowed to tell anyone that I have seen it.”
He reached her, and again she felt his gaze like a physical caress on her features. “No one will believe you.” Said with a simple smile.
She extended her arm and he looped it around his wi
thout comment. Drawing in a deep breath, they walked ahead. Every now and then, she felt him studying her. She slowed her stride to match his, the tang of sandalwood and his skin combined, brushing up against her senses every time their bodies grazed ever so lightly.
“Going away on a trip with me to an unknown destination without Ayaan’s protection or the buffer that the palace offers doesn’t bother you?”
“No.”
“And if I leave you here and disappear, as my brother fears?”
“I know you’re hurting, and you can’t see past your grief and guilt, but I know you, Azeez, probably better than anyone else. You won’t leave until Ayaan himself permits you to go.”
He didn’t jeer, or call it misplaced confidence. His fingers tightened over her arm and Nikhat returned the pressure.
Had they finally achieved some kind of peace with each other?
She was more than reluctant to go inside as they reached the walkway that led to the foyer of the palace, when an echo of laughter and conversation reached her.
The high voices sounded familiar and yet…
Tensing, she clasped Azeez’s hand and moved to stand behind him. “I thought we were supposed to be the only ones here.”
Tugging at the hand that she had laid around him, Azeez met her gaze. “Go in.” He ran a finger over her cheek. He inclined his head toward the palace. “Everything you require should be inside.”
Suddenly, she didn’t want to bid him goodbye just yet. “I would like to come with you. Wherever you’re going, I’m sure I can be of help.”
He shook his head, a small smile digging grooves in his cheeks. She locked her hands at her sides when all she wanted was to trace those grooves.
Was it so wrong if she did? The attraction between them was as strong as it had ever been. Why deny them both what they wanted?
“Nikhat?”
Heat suffusing her skin, she met his gaze.
“I need to be stealthy. And you, with your big eyes and your modern attitudes, you will be hard to blend in. I will return in two days. In the meantime, enjoy your stay.”