by Cara Albany
"If you need anything, you can call one of the servants," he said evenly.
Yes. There was a hint of frustration in his voice, after all, she told herself. Of course she could call a servant, if she needed something. But, what he really wanted was for her to call him. She could see that in his eyes.
That wasn't going to happen. Especially not on the first day of their married life.
Grace opened the door and took a step inside, turning back to Qazim. "Thank you, Qazim," she said.
His brows furrowed. "For what?"
"For being such a good husband," she said.
His eyes widened. She'd taken him by surprise with her choice of words. They'd come to mind, impulsively, and perhaps not too wisely. But she meant what she'd said.
He hesitated. She saw him struggle to find his next words. Then he said: "You're welcome, Grace. I only want what's best for you." His gaze flickered down to her middle. "And of course..." he said letting his words drift off.
She smiled at him. Right now, there was a temptation to ask him inside. Just for a while. She was sure they could be pleasant and polite to one another once they were alone in her suite. They'd managed to pull that off well enough these past few days.
But, one look into his eyes changed her mind. This was their wedding day. And, even if she promised herself that she wouldn't be tempted by him, she could see the seriousness in his gaze. There was a barely contained desire inside him. She could almost see him straining with every sinew to hold himself in check.
"I'll arrange for the servants to come and help you," he announced.
He'd admitted defeat. Even on a day such as this, he was willing to put aside his own selfish needs and desires. Anything to ensure that she was well looked after. She had to admire that.
The next few months weren't going to be easy. Living with him under the same roof was going to exquisite torture.
Grace nodded one last time. "I'll see you later," she said. "Maybe get a chance to say goodbye to some of the guests."
"They'll be wondering where we are," he said.
"I know," she replied. "But, I'm sure they'll understand."
It wasn't exactly a goodbye, but when she nodded to him and pushed the door closed, it almost felt like she was closing the door on her new husband, barring him from entry on their wedding day.
She saw his gaze one last time as she pushed the door shut with a soft thud.
Then she leaned back against the door, lifted her head and, drawing in a deep breath, wondered what on earth she'd just done.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Qazim turned away from the closed door to Grace's suite.
What now?
He could go back downstairs and mingle with the guests. But he immediately discarded that idea. There would be too many awkward questions. And he wasn't ready for anything like that.
Qazim walked slowly down the corridor. His footsteps echoed in the marbled coolness, and he realized that he felt utterly alone. He recalled the way Grace had looked at him as she'd close that door. He was sure she'd been tempted to ask him inside.
Almost.
But, she'd resisted. The same as she'd done once or twice since she'd moved into the palace. And now he was married to her. He thought about that for a moment.
Grace was now his wife!
Sensation surged in him as he played with that thought.
One part of his destiny had been achieved, at least.
Grace was with him now.
And their child would be born and brought up in this palace. Qazim gazed down the length of the corridor. This would be where he and Grace would build their life together.
If she gave it all a chance.
When she'd settled against his body down in the garden, as they'd danced slowly, watched by all their guests, Qazim had felt intense emotion seize hold of him. Just holding her close had given him such a powerful sense of connection and joy.
But, when he'd felt her weaken slightly and settle harder against him, he'd been filled with the familiar protective impulse that seized him every time Grace looked like she needed some support and help.
And he'd done what he had done every day these last two weeks. What he intended to do every day in the coming months.
And years?
Doubt clung to him. He hated the feeling of that uncertainty. But, he'd felt that awful, unwelcome, uncertainty sharply as she'd stood at the door to her suite and effectively restated the rules they'd agreed to.
There would be no intimacy between them.
They would not share a bed.
They would never be alone in either her suite, nor his.
The very thought of that made every muscle in his body tighten, caused his jaw to firm into a thin, hard line. How was he going to cope with that? It was almost unthinkable. But, it had been exactly what he'd agreed to. And he was a man of his word. If nothing else, Qazim prided himself on keeping his promises.
And with Grace now his wife, the pressure to keep those promises would be even more intense.
But he would behave toward her as a man of honor.
Qazim had seen the way his parents had already accepted Grace as one of their own. He was proud of the fact that Grace was now a member of his family. And that soon, he and Grace would have a family of their own to cherish.
He should be grateful for that, he realized. And he was.
But, one question, tainted him on a daily basis.
Why was fate determined to test him like this? Was it his destiny to suffer like this, just so that he could claim Grace as his precious wife? Just so that they could create a family, of sorts? Just so that Qazim could have an heir?
Qazim halted at the top of the stairs. Emotions surged through him as he grasped onto the marble balustrade. From downstairs, he could hear the strains of music and the laughter of guests. The sounds of happiness. He shook his head grimly.
But not for him, were the simple pleasures of the wedding night.
Qazim heard footsteps from the bottom of the staircase. He saw his older brother, Zaheer at the bottom step. Zaheer looked up at Qazim. "Everything okay?" Zaheer asked. His voice echoed in the huge expanse of the hallway. "And Grace?"
Qazim nodded. "She's just tired."
Zaheer started to make his way up the stairs. Qazim sighed. He wasn't sure he was ready for a wedding day talk with his wise brother.
"Becca asked me to come and check," Zaheer said. "She didn't want to come herself, in case it got Grace worried. So she sent me instead."
Qazim gripped the cold marble. "She's fine."
Zaheer halted at the top of the stairs. He gazed with steady, penetrating eyes at Qazim. "You're supposed to be happy," he said.
Qazim raised a brow. "Don't I look happy?"
Zaheer narrowed his eyes and examined Qazim for a moment. "Not as much as I'd have expected."
Qazim turned away from Zaheer. "You're seeing things, brother. Maybe Becca's been whispering in your ear."
Zaheer came alongside Qazim and they started to walk along the corridor. "Give me at least some credit," Zaheer said. "Becca doesn't decide everything in our household."
Qazim lifted a querying brow. "Why don't I believe that?"
"You can believe what you want," Zaheer replied. "I any case, you're about to find out what it really means to be married to an American woman who has a mind of her own."
Qazim peered at Zaheer. "It's that obvious, is it?"
Zaheer nodded. "I'm not the only one who has noticed that Grace likes to get her way." Zaheer laughed quietly. "I know exactly how it feels to be on the receiving end of that."
"You're complaining about being married to Becca?" Qazim asked incredulously.
Zaheer shook his head sharply. "Of course not." He smiled. "Becca's amazing. And Tariq."
Qazim could see the sheer pride on Zaheer's features as he thought about his wife and son. Would that be how he would feel in a year or so? Qazim hoped so.
"You're a lucky man, Qazim."
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"How?"
Zaheer squinted at Qazim. "You know that Grace is pretty amazing, don't you? I don't have to point that out to you, do I?"
Qazim shook his head. "Of course not. I know I just married a really special woman."
Zaheer rested an arm across Qazim's shoulders. "And you're about to find out what I already know."
Qazim felt a sudden shock. Did Zaheer know about the baby?
"Being married is wonderful thing," Zaheer continued. Qazim felt relieved he'd merely misunderstood Zaheer's meaning.
"Marriage has changed everything in my life, Qazim. To have the love of a beautiful woman is the most special thing a man can have."
Qazim nodded, but said nothing. It was clear his brother felt the need to say these things to him. That was the real reason he'd come into the palace. Why he'd sought Qazim out.
"Grace will bring you every happiness you could imagine. I know it. I can feel it in my bones," Zaheer said.
If only his brother knew that Qazim's marriage to Grace wasn't designed to last, he wouldn't be saying these words.
Qazim felt Zaheer grasp his shoulder. They halted just outside the door to Qazim's own personal suite. Zaheer peered at Qazim with a look of brotherly affection.
"I came here to wish you every happiness, brother. I wanted be the first to say that to you. Here. Just you and I, with no-one else around."
Zaheer held firmly onto both Qazim's shoulders.
"Thank you, Zaheer," Qazim said. "I appreciate everything you've done for me." He laughed. "Eventually, I got the message you were trying to drum into me all these years. Marriage is the only way."
Zaheer shrugged. "I was only trying to guide you onto the right path."
"And it looks like you've succeeded," Qazim said.
Both brothers exchanged a smile and then hugged. It was rare for Zaheer to show such affection, Qazim reflected. He thought about all the advice Zaheer had given him all these years. Advice on when to marry; advice on the wisdom of marriage; advice on the necessity of taking a wife.
And the joy that fatherhood would bring.
Well, Qazim would soon find out all about that, he told himself.
Qazim nodded and thought for moment. Just how much should he tell Zaheer? In fact, just how had people already worked out? Grace's pregnancy wasn't really showing. It would soon, though. Qazim and Grace had discussed it, and they'd both agreed that they would announce the baby as soon as was feasible.
Probably within a few weeks. That way Grace could be spared any unnecessary awkwardness. Not that she needed such protection, Qazim reflected. It just seemed like the honorable thing to do, given the circumstance.
Once everyone knew about the upcoming birth, there would be so much excitement that all other questions would be quickly forgotten.
Zaheer glanced down the corridor. "I better get back, or Becca will start wondering what's going on."
Qazim nodded and rested a hand on the door handle to the suite. It occurred to him that Zaheer didn't know that Grace wasn't behind that door. That she wasn't in his bed, resting for the moment.
He didn't want to lie to Zaheer. Hadn't he done that already in concealing the existence of the baby? He pushed that thought firmly out of his mind.
Zaheer turned away. "Give my best wishes to Grace," he said, giving Qazim a casual wave of his hand.
"I will," Qazim replied, opening the door.
He watched Zaheer walk away and then went inside his suite. He was relieved when he closed the door, but that was quickly replaced by the painful awareness of the emptiness of the suite. It was only a few rooms down from Grace's suite, but it could have just as well been on the other side of the world.
A sickening sensation filled his stomach. He was alone, and he knew that he shouldn't be. Not on a day like this. He walked away from the door and went to the open doors which led out onto the terrace. Out beyond the terrace he could see the marquee and all the guests. He could hear the laughter and the music.
Qazim groaned quietly, went back inside and closed the doors to the balcony. He couldn't stand to look out at that scene. Not when he didn't have Grace by his side. Not when his wife was so far away from him.
How was he going to get through the coming months? How was he going to survive the coming torments? Because that was what was heading his way. He knew it as certainly as he'd ever known anything in his life.
He was married, but in name only.
And that thought made him feel both indignant and determined.
At least he'd given himself a chance.
Now, all he had to do was see out the coming months.
See what games fate would play with him.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ONE YEAR LATER
It was going to be another good day, Grace told herself as she finished getting the baby dressed.
Her baby.
Their baby, of course.
Zarif.
That was his name. The name she and Qazim had chosen.
She smiled as she gazed down at Zarif. She knew she'd never get tired of taking in the sight of his cute little features, his bright eyes, his infectious smile.
She reached down and poked him gently and playfully in the ribs. Zarif giggled loudly, the sound filling the large sitting room of Grace's palace suite. As always when Zarif laughed like that, she felt a rush of warmth in her heart.
No. More than that, she told herself. What she felt for Zarif was pure, unadulterated love.
Zarif was only a few months old yet, already, Grace felt a bond with him which she knew was utterly unbreakable.
She looked down at him and finished buttoning up the front of his loose fitting gown. There he was, lying on his back on the bed, smiling right back up at her.
His mother.
She could still hardly believe it. She was a mother.
Grace lifted Zarif up, holding the back of his head and bounced him up and down, smiling at him. Zarif's eyes brightened, immediately sensing Grace's happiness. For a few delightful moments, the eyes of mother and son met in a bright, joyous dance.
From behind, Grace heard the laughter of her principal servant, Anya. Grace turned and smiled at the young, elegant Qazhar woman who had been such a help to Grace this past year. A momentous year in every possible respect.
"You don't think he's going to be too warm in this outfit, do you, Anya?" Grace asked.
Anya shook her head. "No. I don't think it is going to as warm today as it was yesterday," she replied.
Grace was glad to hear that. Even after a year of living in the palace, she was still trying to get used to judging how the climate in this hot country could affect her and the baby.
"That's a relief." Grace stood, holding Zarif carefully in her arms, looking down at him. Still, Zarif wouldn't stop smiling at her. She knew she'd never tire of seeing that smile, she told herself.
Grace walked across the sitting room toward the open doors which led out onto the terrace. It was early morning, and the sun was already bright. She stepped out carefully and halted a few steps away from the balustrade. She gazed out across the garden, savoring the instant sense of peace she felt. Grace heard the soft sound of the sprinklers casting moisture across the wide, green lawn.
She glanced to her left and saw some servants erecting a canopy over a few long tables. She smiled, anticipating what would happen later in the day. It was going to be a big day for Zarif, she reflected.
The day had come for him to be officially brought into the Al Shirah family. The brief ceremony would be attended by close family members. It was a ritual which was a long standing family tradition.
It was similar to baptism back home in the States, Grace reflected. Only there would be no anointing with water. There would be words spoken out loud, words which Qazim had told Grace every child in their family had had spoken over them for centuries.
It sounded alien to Grace, but she knew it was important, knew that it would make Zarif a true Al Shirah.
&
nbsp; Grace sighed contentedly and gazed out into the distance. The desert was bright and golden in the early morning sun. Right now, she didn't want to be anywhere except here, she realized.
This had been one of Grace's favorite rituals these past few weeks. Now that Zarif had begun to settle during the night, she loved nothing more than waking early, getting him fed and ready and then spending blessed hours with him.
It wasn't just these hours that felt blessed, Grace reflected. Her entire life in the palace felt truly blessed, like a gift from destiny that had been handed to her, in spite of her every effort to refuse it, to turn her back on a future with Qazim, and now, Zarif.
Grace breathed in deeply, savoring the scents of the garden. Beside her, Anya stood quietly and patiently, like always. She was a wonderful assistant. Always ready to help, never complaining.
Zarif responded really well to Anya. The young woman had made it so much easier for Grace to adjust to life in the palace when she'd been carrying Zarif. And now, Anya had become indispensable when it came to attending to Zarif's needs.
Thanks to Anya, Grace had been able to regain her strength after the birth of the baby. Thanks to Anya, Grace had been able to sleep. Even if Zarif looked like he never wanted his mother to get a whole nights sleep!
For a while, Grace just stood on the terrace, enjoying the simple pleasure of sharing these precious moments with Zarif. She thought about the decision she'd almost made a year ago, and felt a slight shiver up her spine.
She had been so foolish! She had almost given this up.
Grace rocked Zarif gently in her arms. There was a breath of wind from the garden. Instinctively, she held him closer, as if to protect him from the warm breeze. All she wanted to do from now on was make sure Zarif was safe and happy.
That wasn't too much to ask for, was it?
She thought about how she'd almost walked out on Qazim forever.
That would have been an act of idiocy from which she would never have recovered.
And what about Qazim?
Her husband of exactly one year, now.