by Diana Fraser
At last the people drifted away through the public entrance and Razeen stepped outside the rear door with his ministers. He caught sight of Lucy sitting under the shade of a tree and came toward her. She jumped up, her heart racing at the sight of him, and smiled in response to the flare of heat in his eyes.
“I hear you gave Assad the slip. He wasn’t impressed with your vanishing act.”
He drew his arm around her and they walked up through the sprawling palace.
“I wanted to go to the women’s market and, well, he couldn’t come too, could he? One of the women found him and told him what I was doing. He knew I was safe. What did he think would happen to me there?”
“You’d be surprised. An unauthorized foreign visitor arrived some years ago and was stoned by the women.”
Lucy was shocked. “I can’t believe it. Those women were just wonderful, they wouldn’t do something like that.”
“They’re good women. But they’re also traditional women. They don’t like strangers coming into their world wearing clothes that are distasteful to them. It threatens everything they live their lives by. It frightens them. And frightened people are dangerous people.”
“Well, they appear to accept me OK. I guess the abaya and hijab helped.”
“So what did you do there?”
“Cooked.”
He raised his an eyebrow. “Now that, I hadn’t imagined.”
“They showed me how to make chicken kabsa and khubz and I showed them how to make spicy bean fritters with a yummy lemon sauce.”
“You must have made an impression on them.”
“And they, on me.”
He frowned and turned to her, searching her eyes for an answer as if her answer was of the utmost importance to him. “Good or bad?”
She paused briefly. “Beyond good. I hadn’t imagined they would be so wonderfully welcoming, so interesting and so…”
He looked away as if confused by her answer. “Different? They must have thought your behavior very strange, for someone staying at the palace.”
“They did. And I didn’t understand why. But I’m beginning to.” She searched his face, wondering if he would answer the question she was dying to ask him. It was personal but he’d ceased to be the King. She could only think of him as Razeen: the man who loved people but who was forced to keep his distance, the man who was doing a job he’d not been raised or educated for. “Why are you so distant with people?”
“Distant?” Any sense of outrage at her personal question was quickly contained. “It’s just the way it is; the way it’s always been. If I were more familiar, the people wouldn’t like it. Our culture is very different to your own, Lucy. You mustn’t forget that.”
She opened her mouth to disagree but had second thoughts. As she gazed out at the tumble of roofs of the city buildings below the palace, she no longer saw inanimate objects, but imagined the people beneath them: living, breathing people with desires and interests like her own. They were different, yet not so very much. “Perhaps, in some ways. But in others, they’re very similar. I guess people are people anywhere. One thing with my business, people have to eat. It’s the same the world over. Wherever I go I connect with people over food.”
They’d reached her door. “Speaking of which, will you join me for dinner? Just us.” He added as if reading her mind.
She needed an opportunity to discover if he knew anything about Maia. If, as she was beginning to think, Maia wasn’t in Sitra and he knew nothing of her whereabouts, then she could enjoy herself. As her suspicions had lessened during the day, so, too, had her defenses against her attraction to Razeen. The reasons for keeping her distance were diminishing by the hour. But until her suspicions were completely proved false, she had to keep a barrier between them.
“Couldn’t think of anything I’d rather do.”
“Good. Until later, then.” He touched her cheek in a gentle, yet intimate farewell and turned to walk away.
“Where shall I go?” She called after him.
“I’ll come for you at seven.” He turned and grinned. “And bring a bikini.”
CHAPTER FIVE
The fiery ball of the sun dipped below the horizon and dusk fell like a curtain bringing sudden darkness to the city, leaving Lucy with a heightened sense of anticipation for the night ahead.
She glanced down at the loose trousers and shirt she wore and for the hundredth time and hoped they’d be suitable. Razeen had assured her she could wear what she wished tonight, that they wouldn’t be going anywhere too public. The thought had both reassured and thrilled her. And the deep thrumming thrill had only intensified as she’d waited for him to arrive.
Right on time, there was a knock at the door. Lucy sucked in a long, slow breath, willing herself to be calm as she answered the door. The air rushed right out again at the sight of Razeen, his tall, strong body clad not in robes, but in casual trousers and open-necked shirt that revealed just how toned his body was. He stood, one hand leaning against the wall, his gaze focused on the ancient tiles at his feet as if deep in thought. His shirt sleeves were rolled up revealing muscled forearms and his chest… It was all she could do not to spread her fingers out over that chest and feel the friction of the sprinkling of hairs against her skin. When he lifted his eyes to hers, the contemplative look was swiftly replaced by a devastating heat that reflected her own.
“Miss Gee. Are you ready?”
She nodded, unable to stop her heart skipping out of time at the sight and scent of him. Without his keffiyeh Lucy could see his hair was shortish, but long enough to run her fingers through. His cheekbones were broad and his lips were habitually pressed firmly together, as if showing restraint. Despite the control, the intensely sensual look in his narrowed eyes as they met hers, showed his true thoughts.
“Absolutely. Do I need an abaya?”
The silence lengthened as he looked her up and down appreciatively. “You are perfect, exactly as you are.”
“It’s just that I wouldn’t want to offend anyone, I, well…” Lucy trailed off, embarrassed by the compliment, evident not only in his words, but also in his eyes.
“I can assure you, you do not offend me, quite the reverse. Shall we go?” She took his offered arm gratefully and he squeezed it against his body in a momentary, subtle embrace designed to reassure.
“Sure.” She tried to keep focused, but walking closely beside Razeen, inhaling his personal scent, would have destroyed the concentration of a Zen master. “So,” she gulped another lungful of Razeen-laden air, “where exactly are we going?”
“Back where we first met, the next bay along to be exact. We’ll dine there. My family has a lodge there. I’m thinking of using it as a model for the first phase of tourism. I’d like your opinion of it.”
A flutter of anticipation ran through Lucy. It had nothing to do with Maia and all to do with the thought of an evening alone with Razeen.
“Sounds good.” Too good. She needed him; but she also needed to keep her distance and her head.
Instead of walking through the palace down to the city, Razeen took her through secret gardens surrounded by high walls: ancient enclosures, far bigger than the courtyards and gardens elsewhere within the palace, where columns, that appeared to be Roman, still upheld stone pergola. They followed the lie of the land down from the crest of the hill through lush greenery until they came to a large door that Razeen unbolted. He nodded in greeting to the guards in the guardhouse beside the door and then they walked on, down the long flight of ancient steps to a small private bay. The bay was empty except for a large, modern boathouse. Ignoring the huge motor launch Razeen guided Lucy to a small motorboat. He pressed a button on the large doors which slid back revealing the inky blue water and night sky.
“Quite a contrast: state of the art boat shed next to Roman ruins.”
“I need my escape to be secure.” He grinned and her stomach tied into knots.
He stepped into the boat and held out his hand to her.
She jumped into his arms and he brought her softly towards his body, his hands slipping gently around her waist. His white shirt gleamed in the darkened boathouse. She dropped her head and drew in a deep breath, infused with the warm notes of leather and ambergris. There was no sound except their quickened breathing and the gentle lap of the water against the rear of the shed.
Her gaze dropped to his lips, which parted in response. She swayed, suddenly disoriented and he tightened his grip on her, as if aware of her slightest movement. He held her for a moment before running his hand down the side of her body from her ribs to her hips, sending a rush of sensation down the length of her body.
“I’m glad you are not wearing an abaya tonight.”
“As you’d mentioned a bikini, I imagined we weren’t going anywhere formal.”
“You’re right. We’re less formal within the private quarters of the palace and where we’re going. I think you will find us less savage, more sophisticated than you can imagine.”
“I have a vivid imagination.”
He eyes narrowed as if he were trying to contain a secret thought. “Good. I’ll make sure we put it to good use.”
Lucy could feel the flush rising from deep within. His hot gaze stripped her of the clothing as if it weren’t there. She felt as naked as if she’d worn only the bikini. She wanted to pull away—he was too dangerous—but she needed him; she needed him to let down his guard and tell her where her sister was. She swallowed.
“In what way?”
He drew closer to her again so that she could feel the heat from his body, the subtle friction of his shirt against her body, his breath against her skin. She couldn’t keep her eyes off his lips. They were almost stern lips, but she knew the effect they could have on her. He dipped his head, his nose brushing her cheek; his lips tantalizingly close to hers. All thoughts of distance fled and instinctively she shifted her head in a soft angle so that he could kiss her. But the kiss didn’t come and, instead, she watched the mouth she wanted so much to touch hers, curve into a delicious smile and withdraw from her.
“I can think of many ways. However,” he smiled and pulled away suddenly, “there’s no hurry. We are alone here, with the sea and the stars. We have all the time in the world.”
She pulled away in confusion as the needs of her body clashed with the thoughts that whirled in her brain. She sat at the front of the boat, as Razeen turned on the engine.Within minutes they’d slid out into the inky sea. The deep-throated roar of the boat broke the silence. As they sped out of the secluded bay into the darkening ocean, she was once more overwhelmed by the beauty of the place. Behind them the palace gardens sprawled over the ridge, only a string of gleaming lights penetrated the leafy darkness to indicate the path they’d followed. To her right the city suddenly came into sight. No neon lights screaming commercialism, only pale twinkling lights emerged from the dun-colored houses. Nor was there a halo of bright light crowning the city to obscure the stars that were beginning to emerge in the dense, dark purple. The darkness of the city allowed the stars to reveal their full glory.
They sped past the city, skirting the harbor with its tangle of white sails that gleamed dully in the dusk. Sitting in the bow of the boat, Lucy welcomed the opportunity to hide behind her wind-whipped hair. The soft spray fell upon her skin and she breathed deeply of the warm, damp air. She always felt most relaxed when she was at sea but tonight—caught between her attraction to Razeen and her fears for Maia—she felt emotional. She rarely cried but now tears pricked her eyes and she shivered. Must be the quickened wind, she thought as she surreptitiously swiped her fingers under her eyes.
As the boat turned its back to the wind and began to return to shore, she closed her eyes for a few moments willing the confusion of emotions to subside. She was here to find her sister; instead she’d found a man whose very touch made her forget everything that was important to her. She had to pull herself together, forget the things that threatened her purpose. She couldn’t go to pieces now; she’d come too far.
Razeen slowed the boat as a jetty came into view. There appeared nothing beyond it. She couldn’t see anything but flat sand dunes. But as they came closer a dark shape loomed to the right of them, only slightly higher than the surrounding land. Razeen carefully maneuvered the boat until it was alongside the jetty, cut the engine, expertly threw out a rope around a post and jumped out. He offered his hand but she didn’t take it immediately. She turned back a moment to gaze out at the inky sea, almost loathe to leave its anonymity behind, scared, for the first time in a long time, to face what lay on shore.
“Lucy?”
His eyes were bright in the dusky light. They narrowed as he tried to work out the reason for her hesitance.
“Yes, sorry.” She took his hand and he helped her onto the jetty but then he withdrew his hand as if aware of her doubts.
“Is everything all right?”
She tried to smile, but her mouth felt tight with apprehension. What the hell was she doing? She knew what happened when she let her emotional defenses down. She’d been there and done that at fifteen and she didn’t plan to ever be that emotionally vulnerable again. Since then she’d always protected herself, always been in control. But now she felt as if she were a piece of wood, floating on the sea, at the mercy of the tides. And the tides had chosen to wash her up on this shore, with this man, from whom just one touch left her feeling exposed.
“Sure.” She forced herself to relax. They fell into step, their footsteps sounding hollow on the jetty, beneath which the sea surged.
“So what’s on your mind—what’s giving you such a pensive expression?”
“Memories, that’s all.” Not a complete lie.
“But you’ve not been here before.”
“No. It’s all so strange and so beautiful but it still reminds me of home in an odd way.”
“And where is home?”
“The New Zealand coast—unspoiled, wide, expansive.”
“I’ve never been there. I hear it’s beautiful.” He paused. “How often do you return?”
“Never,” she shrugged. “There’s nothing there for me now. I haven’t been back in eight years, since I was sixteen.”
He frowned. “You have no family to visit?”
The smile trembled on her lips. “They’re scattered around the globe.”
“And that doesn’t worry you? You don’t wish to settle down?”
Was it Lucy’s imagination or did she sense the question was important behind its cloak of politeness?
“No. I don’t want to settle, ever. I love traveling and I love the sea so my job is perfect.”
He’d come to a halt and he nodded his head, as if the answer pleased him. “This way.” He brushed her arm lightly and she closed her eyes in the darkness as his touch flitted softly through her body, opening up her feelings in a way she hadn’t experienced for so long and quieting those fears his touch should have ignited.
As his hand slid down her arm, he took her hand in his and they walked up to the house. It was only when they stood in front of it that she realized what she’d thought was the sky, was a wall of glass. The lodge was long and low, its entire front was made of glass that reflected and merged with the sky. Further dwellings were clustered some distance from the lodge. A sensor light clicked on and light rained out onto the grasses, lending them a curious silver quality, draining all color.
He slid back the doors to reveal a room furnished simply with oversized sofas set on a dark-stained wooden floor. One wall was covered in books. He turned on some music and speakers softly came into life.
“Is this your retreat from the world?” She walked up to the books, drawn to the vast array, and trailed her fingertips gently over them. “So many books.”
“I have little time for reading at the palace. I come here to rest, to relax. Do you enjoy reading?”
She frowned and shook her head. “Never got into the habit.”
“But at school?”
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�Nah. I didn’t hang about at school.” She fixed a bright smile on her face—only her sister knew the real reason she’d left school so young— and turned to him. “I wanted to get out, see the world, live a little.”
He showed her through to the dining room where dinner was laid out for them. “And your family didn’t mind?”
“My mother died when I was twelve and my father was long gone.” She shrugged. “Went off with another woman.”
“I’m sorry.”
She glanced up sharply, the old defensiveness springing back into life again. “Why? I’m not. It made me stand on my own two feet; it made me realize no one else was going to make my life for me, except me.”
“Sounds lonely.”
She turned away to look out over the sea. “I have my sister.”
“You’re still close to her?”
She sat very still, aware of him seating himself opposite, but focused on the soft drawing of the sea on the sand outside their window. “Yes.” She forced herself to look into his eyes. “Yes,” she repeated, stronger now. “She cared for me after mum died. She was only sixteen but she worked as model, waitress, whatever, so she could keep me at school, keep me with her.”
“And the authorities let her?”
“They didn’t know. It’s easier to get lost in a system than one thinks.”
“And your father, he didn’t return when your mother died?”
“Dad came back but my sister sent him away again.”
“Your sister sounds a formidable character, much like yourself.”
“She is.” Lucy frowned. “Generally, she is. I guess we all have our weaknesses.”
“And hers is?”
“Glamour. She loves the high life. A reaction to her upbringing I guess. She’s easily seduced by a smooth word here, a promise there, easily lulled by luxurious clothes, good food, parties, the high life.”
“And you’re not?”
“No.” She held his gaze. “I don’t trust any of those things.”