by Holly Rayner
“It’s good to see you,” the Sheikh continued, his voice a bit softer now.
Tiffany straightened her shoulders, trying to find her confidence once more. “It’s good to see you, too.” She blinked twice, making eye contact once more. “Thank you for this morning, you’ve chosen a perfect spot.”
“I couldn’t think of a better place to convince you that I’m not a literal piece of garbage,” the Sheikh continued. “I know I came across that way last week. And I’m sure, if you have any interaction with the newspapers or the tabloids, you have a good sense of how they perceive me as well.”
“You’re saying it’s not all true?” Tiffany asked.
“I’m saying there’s more to the story. There’s more to every story.” He took a firm step closer, his eyebrows lowering. “As I’m sure there’s a story to you, as well.”
Tiffany waited, unsure of what to say. The water rushed against the pier with more force, as a large boat approached. She eyed the Ferris wheel, on the far side of the pier, and watched as the little cars tracked across the sky. The Sheikh gave her that crooked smile again, making her heart leap into her throat.
“That’s actually my first plan,” he said, as though reading her mind. “There’s a reason people fall for each other on Ferris wheels.”
“Fall for each other?” Tiffany said, finding herself laughing once more. “You think I’m going to fall for you up there?”
“I think, at least, you’ll hear me out a little bit more,” the Sheikh continued. “You’ll have nothing else to do, besides look down at the ground. And everyone knows better than to do that.”
Shrugging, Tiffany aligned her stride with the Sheikh’s and walked beside him toward the Ferris wheel, feeling the wind whip through her hair. Her hand nearly touched his as they walked. She inhaled the scent of him: his cologne, and something else. Perhaps just his essence. As they walked, people eyed them suspiciously, as if they couldn’t comprehend how a woman like her could be walking alongside someone so handsome.
“I’m surprised to see you in a suit,” she said, her voice catching.
“It’s so I can be out in public without the paparazzi following us,” the Sheikh said, slipping his hand along her shoulder. Was it a friendly touch, or something more? “I like to pretend I’m one of the people, sometimes. Only when it’s convenient, of course.” He winked at her.
Wait. What? Tiffany frowned, disliking the way he so clearly separated himself from the people he would one day rule.
Before she could speak again, however, they were ushered into a small car on the Ferris wheel. Their feet hung down below as a metal bar swept over their stomachs. The car lifted from the ground, and she drew in a deep breath as the car swung. She lost all her irritation for him, focusing instead of not panicking. But as the waves of fear rolled through her, the Sheikh placed his hand over hers, clinging onto it tightly.
Tiffany allowed her eyes to flicker toward his. For a long moment, she clung to his hand. He smiled as they swept from the ground and into the bright blue sky. For a sudden, strange moment, Tiffany felt as if she’d known him her entire life. But, just as quickly as she felt it, it passed through her and away.
She nodded, giving him a soft smile. “Sorry. I’m just a bit afraid of heights. It’s been so long since I’ve been in the air, I’d forgotten.”
The Sheikh chuckled, releasing her hand. “See? You already hate me a little bit less, don’t you?”
Tiffany allowed her eyes to roll back. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” she teased.
“No, no,” he said. His eyes were dark and deep. “I really must apologize. For belittling you. For making you think I was this horrible, selfish person, wanting to tower over the rest of the world. I’m really not like that.”
“Okay,” Tiffany whispered. To their right, the Persian Gulf stretched out, long and wide. It felt impossible to imagine that land could exist anywhere on the other side. Al Barait was the only thing that existed, in her eyes now.
“You believe me?” the Sheikh asked her, his voice hesitant.
“I know that you have to present a particular face to the world,” Tiffany breathed, still gazing out over the water. “And I know that, until now, I was a part of that world. Thank you for allowing me to see something else.”
“I want you to know the real me,” the Sheikh said. He squeezed her hand a final time, making her spine shiver with excitement.
Was this really happening?
When they reached the bottom of the Ferris wheel, the Sheikh helped her from the metal car and guided her back toward the boardwalk, where he pointed to her small bag. “I hope you brought a bathing suit?”
“I’m not the kind of girl who doesn’t follow instructions,” Tiffany laughed, feeling suddenly loose with him. “Tell me. What kind of adventure do you have in store for us?”
The Sheikh thrust out his elbow for her to take. She pulled her arm through his, linking her body to him, and then followed him down the boardwalk. After a long pause, he pointed towards a speedboat, striking through the waves. “That’s for us,” he said.
“A boat ride?” Tiffany asked, her heart hammering. “Really?”
“A bit more than that, my dear,” the Sheikh said, smirking.
When the boat bobbed against the far dock, the Sheikh put out his hand and shook the hand of the captain, a tanned and muscular boatman who was missing two or three of his teeth.
The boatman jumped out from his position behind the wheel, trading places with the Sheikh. The Sheikh then put his hand out for Tiffany’s, and when she took it, he guided her into the boat beside him. He waved a sturdy hand toward the boatman, saying, “I’ll have it back here after sundown.”
With that, he turned the boat away from the pier and hammered the throttle down, pointing the boat into the tossing seas. As the boat surged forward, Tiffany found solace on a chair in the back. She clung to a life preserver, watching as the land gradually shrank into the distance.
Suddenly, they were nearly a half-mile away from shore, the two of them, alone together. She shivered, her mind thinking only the worst possible thoughts. What if they capsized? What if she was forced to save the Sheikh, for the future of the country? What if she drowned?
Before long, the Sheikh maneuvered the boat out to a small, rocky ridge, with a dark sea cave in the red brown rock. He stalled the boat, and then turned towards Tiffany with a wide grin on his face. His hair was windswept and wild; his dark curls tangled across his forehead. He pointed toward her bag, saying, “Come along. Change. It won’t be long, now.”
“What won’t be long?” Tiffany asked. She reached for a towel and drew it over her body, wishing for privacy.
“They’re coming,” the Sheikh said, sounding wistful. “It’s nearly sundown.”
There was nowhere to change, so, with a furrowed brow, Tiffany practiced that old locker room trick, bringing her underwear down over her legs and stitching up the swimsuit in its place. She brought her dress up over her shoulders, then aligned the top of her swimsuit over her breasts, careful to do it all in a fluid motion, without allowing the Sheikh to see anything. Meanwhile, he undressed brazenly, allowing her to see his chiseled abdomen, and his gleaming, broad shoulders. As he changed, she caught sight of a small portion of his upper buttocks, which was firm and muscled, much like the rest of him. She felt her cheeks grow red with panic and a sudden wave of lust. What was she doing out there?
“I see them now,” the Sheikh said, standing poised at the top of the boat and pointing toward the rock. “Do you see their noses, poking out of the water?”
Tiffany stepped up to join him, feeling naked and wild, and her body so bare next to his. Sure enough, near the rocks, she saw seven or eight dolphins in the water, playing, their foreheads shining. She gasped, not having seen a dolphin in years, not since her father had taken her out on a similar boat ride.
“Oh, I love them,” she whispered, her breath catching.
“Do you want to swim w
ith them?” the Sheikh said, his eyes flashing with excitement.
“Really?” Tiffany breathed. “Is it safe?”
“Of course it’s safe!” the Sheikh laughed. “You really do follow all the rules, don’t you?”
Tiffany shrugged, feeling suddenly sheepish. As the Sheikh pointed out toward the dolphins, she forced herself forward, rushing into the waves around the boat. The water was a shock, washing over her and tossing her beneath the waves. But with a firm motion, she was soon lashing about above the water, blinking up at him.
“That was fast!” he cried, laughing. “I didn’t think you had it in you!”
“Now all I have to do is wait for you, slow poke!” Tiffany called back. “The dolphins are swimming toward me, look!”
Sure enough, they were. Their noses were pointed like arrows toward her, their eyes bright, almost like those of dogs running across a field. Tiffany kicked her legs wildly, feeling her heart hammer with excitement.
After dropping anchor, the Sheikh leapt into the water alongside her. He swam toward her, kicking and sputtering, staring into her eyes. “You didn’t tell me it was freezing cold!” he said.
“Come on, be brave!” Tiffany said, smiling.
Without hesitation, the dolphins arrived, bucking up alongside them. They were playful, like children. Reaching upward, the Sheikh drew a large bucket of fish from the boat, and then began to toss them into the dolphin’s mouths, making them leap skyward with each toss. When he tried to pass a fish off to Tiffany, she screeched, shaking her head.
“No way am I touching that!” she said, suddenly frightened of the slimy scales. “No thanks.”
“Suit yourself!” the Sheikh said, tossing another, then another. The dolphins responded in kind, chirping into the air around them. Their cries echoed against the sea cave walls, against the rocky ridges. It was one of the most beautiful scenes in the entire world, Tiffany was sure of it.
They swam until they were exhausted, and then hustled back up the ladder and into the boat, where they collapsed on the deck. They allowed the last rays of sun to dry them off, before it began to creep into the water in a dramatic, red, pink and orange sunset. They didn’t have many words for one another, and instead allowed the silence to grow comfortable, and calm. Far out, on the horizon, a cruise ship eased past like an ancient sea monster.
With the last of light casting a ghostly shine across the water, an unexpected gust of wind blew across the bow, tossing their towels into the water, along with a piece of the Sheikh’s suit. The Sheikh bolted up, trying and failing to nab the piece before it floated far into the dark water. “Shoot!” he said. He prepared to dive into the waves, tossing his arms back, but Tiffany gripped his bicep.
“No. It’s too dark. I won’t know if you’re safe,” she whispered.
The Sheikh shrugged slightly. “I’m a strong swimmer—” he said, hesitating.
“I know that,” Tiffany breathed. “But accidents happen at night on the water. And I don’t want one of them to happen now.”
The Sheikh nodded somberly, seeming to understand. He cranked the anchor back into the boat, and then started the engine, driving them back toward shore. They were shaking, chilly after being unable to dry off completely. As he pulled the boat up to the dock, Tiffany leaned toward his ear, whispering, “You know, you can take a hot shower at my place after this. I have plenty of towels. And you won’t have to go all the way back to the palace.”
The Sheikh’s eyes flashed. “Are you sure about that?” he asked.
Tiffany felt her stomach knot. What did he think she was offering? She began to stutter, trying to take several steps back. She certainly didn’t plan on bringing him “home,” in the traditional sense, did she? This was just a shower, nothing more.
“I mean, I have plans after this,” Tiffany lied. “But you’re welcome to get ready at my place before then.”
After tying up the boat, the Sheikh and Tiffany headed down the boardwalk, back toward the road and Tiffany’s apartment block. Tiffany’s cheeks grew red with apprehension, and she was grateful to the darkness around them that masked her discomfort. The Sheikh’s ego seemed to have depleted, especially as he was half-naked, walking down the road. With each passing moment, she began to think that maybe—just maybe—the Sheikh wasn’t such a bad guy, after all.
Maybe the Sheikh she thought she had known was really an act. Didn’t people create “characters” all the time, just to protect themselves? Was the Sheikh really a deep, passionate person beneath the shell he’d created to keep himself safe from harm?
“Why do you hang out with those people?” Tiffany finally asked him. “The people at the restaurant. Those arrogant men. And those empty-headed women…”
The Sheikh chuckled. “You really think they’re so empty-headed?”
“No,” Tiffany sighed. “I don’t. But I think they pretend to be empty-headed, because they think people like you appreciate that.”
“Ah, I see. A multi-layered con,” the Sheikh chuckled. “I’m sure you’re right, in more ways than I could even know. But to answer your question, I hang out with those people because—well—sometimes being with people like that is less demanding. When you’re famous, everyone is watching your every move. And if you’re alongside pretty, uncomplicated people…”
He trailed off, leaving Tiffany to fill in the blanks. “You just live the way people expect you to,” she sighed. “But why not surprise them?”
“Maybe it’s laziness,” the Sheikh continued. “Maybe it’s just me trying to rebel against my father’s wishes for my future. I know that eventually, the country will be mine to rule. And that will be a reality check. I’ll no longer be able to find joy in late nights of partying. I’ll no longer find life in pretty, empty-headed women. I’ll have to be serious, forever. And I suppose I’m fighting that as long as I can.”
“So. It’s not really you,” she whispered, finally understanding.
“It’s a version of me,” he said, sighing. “But I know it’s not the best version I can give to the world. And I certainly know it’s not the one that you want to see.”
Tiffany blinked up at him. “Which version am I seeing now?”
“Maybe the realest one of all,” he answered.
Tiffany’s heart felt warm. Without a moment’s hesitation, she led him inside her apartment, locking the door behind him and watching his eyes as he gazed about the room. She’d never had a man to the apartment before. It was her space, and her space alone. And for some reason, against all odds, Sheikh Kazra was privy to it.
Nothing in the world made sense any more.
“Nice place,” he said, his voice deep and firm. She couldn’t read it. Was it a lie, a joke? Certainly, her apartment was nothing compared to his penthouse suite (about which she’d read in a tabloid the year before).
“It’s home,” she shrugged. Pointing toward the far corner, she added, “And the shower’s back there. I can grab you a towel…”
But instead, the Sheikh slipped his shoes off and entered her kitchen, still wearing his swimsuit. He gripped the bottle of wine that sat on the far corner of the counter, raising his eyebrows. “Do you think we could warm up a different way?”
“Ha,” Tiffany laughed, shifting slightly. Wearing only her bathing suit, she suddenly felt horribly naked. “The glasses are in the far cabinet. I’m going to put on something a little less…”
“Don’t do it on my account,” the Sheikh said, chuckling. After a long pause, he continued, “But of course. Grab me something to wear, if you have it.”
“Sure.”
Tiffany bolted to her dresser, trying to tell herself to calm down. Her fingers shook as she pawed through her bottom drawer, bringing out the largest pair of sweats she owned, along with a large T-shirt. She grabbed herself a V-neck shirt and a pair of shorts, donning them quickly and hanging her bathing suit up in the shower. She shivered slightly, glancing at her hair, which was curly with sea salt. Where was this going? What wa
s she even thinking, letting him into her space?
When she arrived back in the kitchen, the Sheikh had poured them two glasses of deep, red wine. He gestured, looking pleased with himself. Tiffany passed him the sweatpants and T-shirt, pressing her lips together with sudden anxiety. “This should get you home, at least…” she said.
The Sheikh disappeared for a moment. When he joined her in the kitchen once more, he looked rugged and bright, wearing the white T-shirt, which showed his muscled chest. The sweats had been tied tight against his abdomen. He waited, peering into her eyes. The tension was growing.
They clinked their glasses before gliding into the living room, sipping the wine. Tiffany gestured towards the couch, but watched in surprise as the Sheikh sat on the floor with her, leaning against the window and gazing out at the street below. After a long, seemingly inescapable pause, he whispered, “In a strange way, I feel like I’m hiding out with you. There’s no way the paparazzi could find me here. No way they’d ever suspect.”
“You don’t think they’d find you at a nobody’s house, outside of the city?” Tiffany joked. “That’s surprising.”
“You’re not a nobody,” the Sheikh said. “You’re the daughter of the U.S. Ambassador. That’s not nothing.”
So he did know who she was. “You’ve done your research,” she said, giving him a sad smile.
“I found out everything I could about you on the internet, which, incidentally, wasn’t much,” he said, laughing. “Just that you went to Brown. That you moved here after you graduated. Curious, really, why you chose to go here, instead of remaining in the States. Don’t you miss your mother?”
“No, we’re not close,” Tiffany said, finding herself laughing sadly. For a long moment, she allowed silence to fall between them. Suddenly, her heart felt stabbed with the memory of the Sheikh’s mother, the Sheikha of Al Barait, who had passed away just two years previously.
“It’s not that I don’t appreciate and love her,” Tiffany continued, trying to clear up the mess she’d made. “It’s just that we don’t see eye to eye. She left my father for her new husband years ago. And I missed my dad so much…”