Sworn Enemies, Secret Lovers

by Eve Rabi

  “I’ve not slept with him, if that is what you want to know, Reed,” I say.

  Right now, I’m not sleeping with you either.

  Reed’s sigh appears to be one of relief. “How come?”

  “Well, I planned to divorce him when I got back, but there was so much suspicion around me, I didn’t dare make any radical changes. Kept a low profile and just hoped the dust would settle.”

  I go on to explain Bailey. “I was relieved when I caught them, but, I do regret not divorcing him right away. I guess I just didn’t have the energy to take on anything so drastic. Anyway, after he found out I was raped, he seemed turned off for good.”

  Reed’s flinching does not go unnoticed.

  “Which is a good thing, anyway,” I quickly add and stab him in the chest with my index finger. “Now, I’m all yours. It’s a case of you break it, you buy it.”

  He laughs and touches my face tenderly. “His loss.”

  “You’ve also had a chance to rethink me, Reed, but you didn’t, huh? Instead, you came back for more punishment.”

  “Mmm. I thought about it, I must admit. It would’ve been easier, but I couldn’t.” He strokes my cheek slowly. “You’re in my system, my blood, my son. Every time I look at him, I see you.”

  Delightful words, balm to my soul. “See, I told you you’re a witch!” he says in a husky voice, a familiar look appearing in his eyes. Suddenly, the chemistry between us changes from playful to ardent, and we become intensely aware of each other.

  “Yeah?” I whisper as he slips his arm behind my neck.

  “Yeah …” he says in a husky voice and draws my face to his. His kiss today is hungry and probing, the kiss I was waiting for.

  “Just as I remember,” he says when he raises his face from mine.

  With equal intensity, I return his kiss and within seconds, I am under him, breathless and inflamed with want.

  “I missed your body,” he whispers as he runs his thumb slowly over my lips.

  “God, I missed your touch,” I say. “Among other things.”

  “What other things?” he whispers, his hand moving down my neck and caressing my breast.

  “That too,” I say, my entire body tingling at the memory of his touch. “Do you think about it?”

  “Every waking moment,” he says, his hand slipping under my blouse and cupping my breast.

  I gasp at his touch. “Tell me more,” I urge breathlessly.

  “You under me, saying my name, your …” he kisses the hollow of my neck, then brushes my earlobe with his lips. “I want it again, now!”

  Suddenly, it is as if we’re alone in the park. No one and nothing matters for the moment as we lustily explore each other’s mouths. All reservedness between us disappears, transporting us back to our passion-filled nights in Iraq.

  Only when his hand travels up my bare thigh, searching and stroking, am I suddenly brought back to reality.

  “Not here,” I whisper, clamping his hand with mine.

  “Huh?”

  “Let’s go home.”

  He nods.

  We scramble up and hurriedly make our way back to the car. While Reed folds the stroller and packs it into the trunk of the car, I sit in the back seat and secure a sleeping Wyatt into his baby seat, trying not to wake him.

  Reed pokes his head inside to look at me. “Need help?” His voice is so warm and sexy, I have the urge to kiss him again.

  “Need you,” I say, tilting my head to one side and flicking my index finger at him.

  “Oh yeah? You want me that bad?”

  “I sure do,” I whisper as he slides into the back seat for a quick canoodle.

  Within seconds, we’re furiously necking like teenagers in the back seat of the car. A thrill I’ve never experienced before surges through me as I unbutton his shirt and kiss his chest, my hands running all over his muscular back.

  “Shit!” he curses as he struggles with my bra. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, he impatiently pushes up my bra and takes a nipple in his mouth. With a long sigh of pleasure, I lie back. “Fuck, I want you!”

  He pauses and looks at me. “How much?”

  My response is to part my legs slightly. With a groan, he slides his hands under my skirt and between my thighs, his hands caressing and stroking, causing my thighs to part further.

  “I remember that!” I gasp, trying to undo the buckle of his belt.

  Voices outside the car make me stiffen.

  “Shit!” I curse. Pushing him away, I quickly pull down my bra.

  “Okay,” he pouts as he zips up. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Our ride home is hurried, and at every traffic light, we lunge at each other and partake in some serious fondling.

  As Reed puts Wyatt to bed, I quickly straighten out our bedroom. Don’t know why I’m bothering – with my naughty intentions, the room is going to be destroyed in minutes anyway.

  Reed enters the room and looks at me, his eyes naked with desire. He scoops me up and roughly dumps me on the bed. “Now, show me just how much,” he says, ripping off my blouse and pushing me onto my back. As his mouth trails over my neck, my breasts, and my thighs, my body arches like a gymnast, and I grow more and more impatient.

  Finally, I grab a handful of his dark hair, lift his face to look into his glazed eyes and say, “Now! Fuck me now, baby.”

  He grins and tugs at my panties. “That, I can do.”

  As he slides between my thighs, I raise my hips in anticipation of a frenzied thrusting. He doesn’t disappoint – it’s frantic and intense, causing our bodies to become drenched in sweat. Although it ends far too quickly for both of us, I know there’s going to be a lot more thrusting later on tonight, and tomorrow night, and the following night.

  “Just as I remember,” I say as I lie in his arms. “Therapeutic.”

  He smiles and kisses my nose. “I had thoughts of you getting back with him and forgetting all about me and our son.”

  “I had thoughts of you marrying some chick with porn star lips and the big tits.”

  “Not a chance!” he chuckles. “Besides, these are all I need,” he says as he squeezes my breasts.

  Exhausted but blissfully happy, we fall asleep, entwined in each other. Just like in Iraq.

  Chapter Nine

  We’re dancing in our lounge while Wyatt claps his hands to the music. Well, goofing around, actually. Reed twirls then dips me. I laugh when he lowers me further.

  “Reed, don’t, I’m gonna fa..!” Too late; I fall, taking him down with me.

  “Sonofabitch!” I hiss, as I lie on the floor with him on top of me.

  He starts to tickle me and soon, I’m shrieking with laughter.

  “Ahem!”

  We look up to see Abeeda and her boyfriend, Hashim, standing at the door, smiling at us.

  “I knocked but you didn’t answer,” Abeeda says as she places a pot of food on the dining table. “I can see why.”

  Sheepishly, we scramble to straighten our clothes. We look at each other and burst into fits of giggles.

  “My mother sent you food,” Abeeda says as her eyes dart between us.

  Our friends bringing us food. They’re all we have right now, but we’re happy.

  I guess blissful would be an appropriate word. My life is blissful in our new third-floor apartment, which has three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a huge balcony for dancing in the dark, growing potted blooms, and lazy Sunday breakfasts. Oh, and for evening romps in the dark.

  With Reed, every day is a celebration of some sort, and celebrate we do, unable to believe that this was once just a dream.

  Sometimes, I look up and catch Reed watching me and I know exactly what’s going through his mind – he cannot believe we’re together after all we’ve been through.

  I know this because I feel exactly the same. At times, I have to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming. Other times, we just hold each other and sit in silence. Words are not necessary – it’s the touch th
at counts. The way he touches me, the way he holds me, the way he looks at me, the way he says my name; it makes me feel adored and secure, and I know that with him by my side, I can handle anything that comes my way.

  If only it wasn’t for my contractual obligations. We both can’t wait for it to be over so we can quietly leave the country. I like Australia. Can’t wait for the anonymity it will bring. In the meantime, did I mention I’m blissful?

  Of course, I still have to be in disguise when I leave the apartment, so the dark, shoulder-length, Posh-Spice type of wig Reed bought me pretty much takes care of that problem. Sometimes I go to bed in it and speak in an English accent. Ha ha.

  We don’t have much money, as we’re managing on just Reed’s salary. But we’re comfortable even though we’re not living in luxury like Damien and I did. Irony is – there’s millions of dollars in my bank account, but I cannot access it and I dare not. It’s safer to leave it to Damien.

  Abeeda and Hashim are wonderful people. Incredibly supportive, they help with everything and are eager babysitters for Wyatt. We four have become firm friends, and the best thing about them is that I don’t have to wear the wig. I can be myself.

  I trust them.

  ***

  “Well, well, well,” Jake says at the sight of me entering his office. “America’s favorite terrorist returns. Prodigal …”

  “Ha ha!” I take a seat across him.

  “You’re glowing,” he says, his eyes turning into slits.

  “That’s cos I’m finally happy and most of all Jake … I’m free.”

  The confused look on his face intensifies.

  I lean over and whisper, “I’ve met someone.”

  He jerks back. “Already? It’s been like … what – a month?”

  After Maya’s reaction about Reed, I decide to spare Jake a heart attack. “Yeeeaaaah. Long story. But the main thing is, I’ve moved in with him and he’s asked me to marry him, so this terrorist …” I smile and stab my chest with my index finger, “needs divorce proceedings, pronto.”

  If only he knew that he has already met my lover.

  “Marry? What about all your contracts and …?”

  “I will honor all my commitments, do everything I signed up for. But … and this is a big BUT, I don’t want to see Damien or have anything to do with him anymore.”

  Jake rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Money?”

  “We’ll split it and everything coming our way. I’m not gonna fight about money. I just want my freedom. He did cancel all my credit cards though so I’m living off my boyfriend.”

  “He did what?! But it’s all your money?”

  “I know, but I don’t give rat’s ass, Jake.”

  He nods. “I’m happy for you, Megan. You look really happy and it’s about time. I used to be worried about you a lot. You were the only client who gave me heartburn.”

  “I am happy,” I say, swallowing hard at his understanding. “My freedom, it means a lot to me, Jake.”

  “Sure.”

  “When do you plan … like, when can you start divorce proceedings?”

  “I’ll get right onto it.”

  “Call me when you do,” I say, and pick up my bag. “I gotta celebrate that day.”

  “Oh, I’ll celebrate too, believe you me.”

  Humming, I float out of his office.

  Three days later, Jake calls. “Served it,” he says, “starting with a legal separation.”

  A thrill shoots through me as I hang up and dial Reed. “Guess what, baby? Jake filed pre–divorce proceedings today.”

  There is a pause before my Angel–man answers. “He did?”

  “Yep. I’m now a free agent so, like, feel free to take advantage of me, okay?”

  He laughs. “Where are you now?”

  “At a photo shoot. Can’t get out of it, but back at six.”

  “Okay. But, this is good news. Can’t wait to see you, baby.”

  “Me too. I love you, Angel–man.”

  “I love you, my kitt.”

  We hang up feeling loved–up.

  When I get home, Reed greets me with a kiss and a glass of champagne. “We have to celebrate, so I’m taking you to dinner.”

  I kick off my heels, relieved to be rid of them. “Okay,” I say and gulp my champagne. Then I splutter and choke, and it feels like I’m dying. There’s like a bone or something lodged in my throat.

  Reed jumps up, a horrified look on his face. Quickly, he performs the Heimlich maneuver. Out comes the foreign object lodged in my throat and lands a few feet away from me. Gasping, I watch him pick it up and bring it over to me. It’s a diamond ring!

  “Um … it was supposed to be romantic,” he says in an apologetic voice.

  A ring! Between coughs, I laugh and inspect the ring. A beautiful solitaire. About a karat.

  “Wow!” I whisper. “This is awesome!” I look at him, my heart bursting with joy. “On your knees, boy.”

  He smiles and drops to one knee. “Megan, will you marry me and make me miserable for the rest of my life?”

  I get down on my knees and hug him. “Yes. Yes. Yes. Yeeees! How ‘bout … how ‘bout ... how ‘bout December fifteenth? Huh?”

  “What? You want to set a date?”

  “Duh. I’ve waited like four hundred years to marry you.”

  He smiles. “You move fast, but okay, December fifteenth it is. But … you’re still married.”

  “Yeah, but we can do one of those weddings that doesn’t require legal stuff.”

  He thinks about it for a while then says, “Sure. December fifteenth is a good day for a hanging, I guess.”

  “Whoo hoo!” I jump to my feet and do a jig. Then, I dive into his arms again and hug him. I draw away, my eyes wide. “I got three months to plan a wedding. Oh my God! I gotta tell someone. Can I call Maya?”

  “Sure. Call anyone you like, future Mrs. Kader.”

  With a laugh, I untangle myself from him and dial Maya’s number. When Maya answers, I think about her last words to me, where she begged me to have nothing to do with Reed, and I hang up.

  “What?” Reed asks.

  “Eh, line busy,” I lie, and quickly dial Abeeda instead. Abeeda answers on the first ring.

  “Guess what, Abeeda? We’re getting’ hitched.”

  “Congratulations!” she gushes. “I’m happy for both of you.”

  “Fifteenth of December and … you’re gonna be my bridesmaid!”

  “That would be my pleasure,” she says.

  As I hang up, I think how nice it would be to be able to tell my family, but I guess the timing is not right. It would have to wait. As Maya pointed out – they’ve had to deal with so much in the past, and she’s right. This news is way too intricate to deal with now. In the meantime … I’m getting married to Reed!

  ***

  I’m lucky – I find my wedding dress at the very first bridal shop I visit. It’s flowing, soft, and barely white. It has many layers, and it’s so flattering and beautiful, I gasp when I see myself in the mirror. When I see the price tag, my gasp this time is laden with disappointment.

  With a heavy heart, I hand it back to the saleslady. “I have to think about it,” I say, knowing full well that I can’t even think about it. Reed would probably want me to have it, but it would come at a cost. Better to just forget about it.

  But forget about it, I can’t – I just cannot get that dress out of my head. It’s how I pictured it to be. When I married Damien, my dress was created by Damien – a collaboration between Damien and a rather nervous young designer who was bullied something terrible by Damien. I had little say in it and frankly, I didn’t mind at that time as I believed Damien knew best.

  But now, it’s different. I want this dress. Badly.

  When I gush about the dress to Abeeda, she insists on seeing it. Needing no second invitation, we race over to the bridal shop. When she sees it, it takes her breath away and … you’re never gonna believe this – she buys it for me! How’
s that for an awesome friend?

  When I overcome my speechlessness, I can’t stop thanking her. “I will pay you back, I promise.”

  “That’s what friends are for,” she says. “Pay me whenever you can. There’s no hurry. As long as you’re happy and it’s perfect on you.”

  I give her dozens of hugs.

  “Just don’t let the groom see it before the wedding day,” she says.

  “I never thought about that,” I say. “Can you keep it?”

  “Sure,” she says and takes it from me.

  Thrilled with my dress, I race around and arrange the flowers, the venue, the cake, the photographer. All so exciting. As I strike off things on my to-do list, I am grinning with happiness.

  Now, to tell my family. That takes away my smile. Reed and I strategize about how best to tell them. Finally, we decide to invite them to dinner and simply introduce Reed and Wyatt to them. Later, we will tell them about my wedding plans and details of how we met.

  Reed looks apprehensive.

  “When they get to know you, honey, they will love you. Guaranteed.”

  “You think so?”

  “Absolutely. They will see what I see. Who I see. Trust –”

  Our wedding plans are interrupted by my ringing mobile phone. I look at the caller ID and jerk back.

  “What?” Reed asks, seeing my frown.

  I tap my finger to my lips and mouth, “Damien.”

  His turn to frown.

  I move away a little then answer, as Reed turns down the volume on the television. “Hello.”

  “How ya doing, Mrs. Saunders?” he drawls. Is that charm I’m hearing? Can’t be. He would waste valuable charm on me?

  “Hey, Damien. Wassup?” I brace myself for the dreaded divorce talk – you know, the one where one spouse tells the other that they are better off not using attorneys, who are only there to milk them for the money …? That talk.

  “Nothing. Just wanted to say hi and see how you were. I miss you.”

  “What?!” I must be dreaming.

  There is a brief hesitation before he says, “I’m kidding. Just wanted to talk about the divorce and see how we could work things out.”