by Trish Morey
He shook his head. ‘It is you who deserves thanking, Tora. What you said to me this morning...’ He trailed off, searching for the words, and she put a finger to his lips.
‘I didn’t say anything you didn’t already know. Maybe you just needed to hear them.’
He caught her hand and pressed it hard against his mouth. ‘You are a remarkable woman, Tora.’
‘No, Rashid.’
‘Yes, you know it’s true. From the moment you arrived, you have impressed everyone you have met.
‘Today, you were the star of the show, charming everyone from the tiniest child to the most important dignitary. I know our hasty marriage was foisted upon you and unwanted, but you have been one of the highlights of my return to Qajaran.’
‘We had a deal, Rashid, remember? I got something out of it, too. The money—it helped a friend of mine out at a tough time.’
‘It was nothing compared to all you’ve done. I owe you, Tora. I don’t know how I can possibly repay you.’
And she knew that the moment was now, that if she wanted this night to continue she would have to be the one to make it so.
She looked up at him, at his dark eyes and his beautiful tortured features, and knew that when she left she would be leaving a part of herself right here in Qajaran.
Her heart.
‘Make love with me, Rashid.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE GROWL RUMBLED up from low in his throat. But then words wouldn’t come close to how he was feeling right now. He swept her into his arms and pressed his lips to hers before he carried her through to his suite where he scattered coloured cushions in all directions with one hand before he laid her reverentially in the centre of his bed.
There was no rushing as there had been that first night together. No stripping of clothes separately before they came together. This time Rashid undressed her as if he were opening a gift, taking his time to expose each part of her skin, worshipping it with his lips and his mouth—the hennaed patterns of her hands and feet, the insides of her elbows and the backs of her knees—until she was quivering with desire and need before he’d even slipped her golden abaya over her head.
Breath hissed through his teeth when he looked down on her. ‘You’re beautiful,’ he told her with his words and with his adoring eyes, and warmth bloomed inside her. She felt beautiful when he looked at her that way.
He shed his robes and turned from desert ruler into her ruler. Tonight she was his kingdom and his most loyal subject. Tonight she was his queen. Tonight she was his, utterly and completely, and he gave her everything in return.
They made slow, sweet love, long into the night. Making love, she thought, not sex this time, for that tiny seed of a connection had grown into something more, something richer and more powerful.
Love.
And the thought simultaneously terrified and thrilled her, but tonight it seemed so right. She loved him.
And when he followed her into ecstasy and she heard him cry out her name on his lips, she knew he must love her, too, even just a little.
He pulled her close and kissed her and it didn’t matter that he was sleeping like the dead less than a minute later. In just one night, he’d given her more than she could have ever wished for.
‘I love you,’ she whispered, testing the words, touching his lips with hers, before she snuggled closer and closed her eyes, still smiling.
* * *
There was a noise from beyond the interconnecting door. A cry. Atiyah. Tora listened in the dark, waiting, and a few seconds later came another cry, more insistent this time. Tora strained to hear Yousra’s footfall on the tiled floor but heard nothing and Atiyah was working herself up to full throttle now.
Beside her Rashid slept on. He would be exhausted after the strain of the coronation and the physical excesses that followed. She should leave it to Yousra but she didn’t want Rashid to be woken, so she rose from the bed, pulling on Rashid’s oversized robe, and slipping into her suite.
She scooped Atiyah from her cot and held her to her chest. ‘What’s wrong, little one? What’s the matter?’
Yousra appeared looking ill with dark shadows under her eyes and Tora sent her straight back to bed. Rashid would have to find another carer to share the load now.
Tora checked the baby’s nappy and made sure there was nothing pressing in her clothes or bedding. A nightmare, she guessed, just something that spooked her in her sleep. The baby whimpered and snuffled against her chest and she massaged her back and started singing the lullaby she liked to sing to Atiyah. Eventually the little fingers of the fist holding on so tightly to her robe finally relaxed as she drifted back to sleep.
‘Where did you learn that song?’
She started and turned, the baby still in her arms, to find him standing there, a towel lashed low on his hips. ‘You’re awake.’
‘That song,’ he said. ‘It’s beautiful. How do you know it?’
‘I learnt it at the child-care centre where I worked. We had children whose families came from all over the world and we tried to learn songs from most of the major languages, even though we were never quite sure of the words.’
‘Did you know it was Persian?’
She looked up at him. ‘I knew it was Middle Eeastern. Why do you ask?’
‘Because I’ve heard it before. Apparently my mother used to sing it to me. And maybe my father, too. I’d forgotten it until I heard you singing it to Atiyah, that first night on the plane.’
She stilled at his side, her heart going out to him. She couldn’t begin to imagine how it must feel—the pain on discovering your parent had been alive all those years you’d thought him dead. The betrayal and the hurt would be almost too much to bear.
‘Your father must have loved you a lot,’ she said.
He sniffed. ‘How do you figure that?’
‘Because he left you Atiyah,’ she said, trying to find some way of soothing his pain. ‘I read that her name means gift. He left you questions without answers, I know, but he left you Atiyah, and the gift of joy and love as well, if you will only see it. He must have loved you to have entrusted her in your care.’
He blinked and reached out a hand to touch Atiyah’s curls.
She watched his hand, saw the moment man connected with sleeping child, saw wonder on his face in the low lamp light, and felt a rush of joy. Baby steps, she thought, it would take one baby step at a time. But in time, she knew, he would learn to love Atiyah as he should.
She kissed the baby on the head and tucked her back into her cradle. ‘Come,’ she said to Rashid, and led him back to bed.
‘It’s strange,’ he said, thinking in the dark, amazed at her wisdom. ‘I feel like I know you, and yet I know nothing about you.’
She shrugged in his arms. ‘There’s not a lot to tell. I grew up in Sydney and became a child-care worker. And then, like I told you before, when my friend Sally and her husband opened the business, I joined Flight Nanny. End of story really.’
‘What about family? Pets? Favourite colour?’
‘Orange,’ she said, with a smile. ‘No pets. I’m away from home too much.’
‘How did your parents die?’
‘It was a glider crash, three years ago now. Dad was piloting when they collided with another glider and lost a wing. They were too close to the ground to have time to parachute out.’
He pulled her close, pressed his lips to her forehead. ‘It must have been hard to lose them both together.’
‘Yeah, and there are days when it’s still hard. But overall, it gets easier with time. I was lucky enough to have them both until I was in my twenties. And I know it sounds a cliché, but it makes me feel better knowing they died doing something they both loved. Dad used to say you can never be freer than in the sky. I like to think of
them soaring somewhere in the sky together.’
He squeezed her shoulders. ‘Did you have any other family to help you, then?’
‘I have a sprinkling of cousins but they’re mostly all interstate so I hardly ever see them. Oh, except for one who lives in Sydney. But we’re—well, we’re not close.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Matt let me down badly over something.’ Absently she ran her fingers through the coarse hair of his chest. ‘I’m finished with him now. Sally’s more family than any of them, really.’
‘I’d be lost without my brothers, too. But then, they’re not real brothers. Maybe that’s what makes them special to us.’
‘Maybe.’ She squirmed and rolled over, as if the topic made her too uncomfortable. ‘You know, can we talk about something else?’
‘I’ve got a better idea,’ he said, liking the way her bottom wiggled so provocatively against him and feeling his body react accordingly. ‘Maybe we should do something else.’
‘Oh,’ she said, when she caught on. ‘I like the way you think.’
‘And I like the way you do this...’ He pulled her astride him and handed her a condom, liking, too, the way her eyes widened appreciatively as she realised how aroused he already was and took him in hand. He cupped one breast and ran a palm up her thigh while her fingers worked their magic on him as slowly she rolled the condom down his hard length. She gasped when his thumb grazed her inner lips.
‘Oh, my,’ she said, her job complete, but not her enjoyment as his fingers explored her slick folds. ‘You do make it hard for a girl to concentrate on a task.’
‘Maybe,’ he said as he lifted her hips over him and positioned himself at her core, ‘this might make it easier?’
And he pulled her all the long way down on him until he was seated deep inside her and she was stretched up like a cat, her back arched, all curves and sleekness above him such that he could not resist running his hand up over her smooth, firm flesh.
‘Oh, yes,’ she said on a sigh as her muscles let him go enough to lift herself from him until she was at his very tip, ‘I think I can concentrate on this,’ before she lost herself as she plunged down on him again.
* * *
‘Stay here in Qajaran,’ he said in between breaths as he brushed her hair from her face as they lay side by side waiting for their heart rates to return to normal. ‘There is no need to go home yet.’
‘Atiyah is settling,’ she said, relishing the tickle of his fingers on her skin. ‘She is becoming more used to Yousra and her new surroundings. Find her another carer and you will not need me soon.’
‘I’m not asking you to stay for Atiyah’s sake,’ he said. ‘I’m asking you for mine.’
And like one of the bursts of fireworks she’d witnessed against tonight’s sky, hope bloomed bright and beautiful in her chest.
Could it mean that he was feeling something for her, as she felt for him? Was it possible that this crazy marriage could turn out to have a fairy-tale ending after all?
‘I have my work...’ she said, because a crazy idea still had to be met with a rational mind and she would be leaving Sally in the lurch at the worst possible time.
‘I wouldn’t expect you to drop everything and walk away empty-handed.’
‘It’s not about money.’
‘No, but money can make problems easier to sort out,’ he said, and she thought about the money that had got Sally and Steve to treatment in Germany.
‘I guess that’s true.’
‘We’ll work something out,’ he said, kissing her brow.
‘I haven’t said I’ll stay yet.’
‘You haven’t said you won’t.’
* * *
Rashid left Tora in his bed with a smile on his face. It was perfect. She was perfect. When he’d agreed to come to Qajaran, doubt had been foremost in his mind. Need he do this, could he do this? And he’d decided to stay, and a lot of it was all down to Tora being here, right beside him all the way. When he’d been consumed by doubt, she’d been the one who’d convinced him he could be the leader Qajaran needed.
And the thought that she was leaving filled him with dread. He didn’t want her gone. He wanted her to stay. More than that, when it all came down to it, he needed her to stay.
It was a strange feeling, this need. He’d never needed anyone in his life before, and if there was one thing his father’s sudden and short-lived blip back into his life had reinforced in him, it was that he didn’t need anyone else. That he was right to rely on his own devices and his desert brothers.
He knew for a fact his desert brothers would never betray him.
He’d never needed anybody else.
Until Tora.
His heart beat a little faster in his chest as he remembered how she’d looked when he’d left her. Sleep and sex tousled, her hair in wild disarray, and with a smile just for him, a smile that lit up his world.
He smiled to himself, even as he headed to work. Like the day of the ceremony, today had been declared a public holiday for everyone. Everyone, that was, who didn’t happen to be the Emir or his Grand Vizier who both had work to do. He would make time later to see off Bahir and Kadar and their wives and children, who were heading off to Istanbul together. Zoltan would join him for some final talks this afternoon, before he and Aisha and the twins returned to Al-Jirad.
His thoughts returned to Tora and how he might get her to stay. The people would be happy, they clearly loved her as their sheikha, and so would his desert brothers and their wives. But he would be happier than all of them, because he wanted and needed her right there by his side.
His footsteps faltered on the marble tiles as a thunderbolt jagged through him.
Was this what his brothers always talked about, when they had found a woman to share their lives with? Was this what love felt like? Was Tora the one?
He shook his head, simultaneously baffled and in awe.
He’d never looked for love. He’d never expected to find it.
Still in a state of wonderment, he entered his office and found the unfaltering Kareem already there waiting for him.
‘So, Kareem,’ he said, feeling more light-hearted than he had in a long time, ‘what do we have on the menu today?’
Kareem didn’t seem to share his good mood. Instead he looked more troubled than Rashid had ever seen him, and older than his years, and for a moment Rashid wondered if the endurance test of the coronation had worn him out. ‘Sire,’ he said at length, ‘I have news which may concern you.’
Rashid doubted it. Right now it would take a volcano to suddenly appear in the desert to concern him, and then only after it erupted. ‘What is it?’
‘A message was sent through the palace server. I did not wish to bring it to your attention yesterday. It’s from Sheikha Victoria to her cousin, a man called Matthew Burgess.’
Rashid remembered her talking about her cousins and how she didn’t have anything to do with one in particular—he was sure that one was called Matthew.
‘That doesn’t sound right. Was it definitely her cousin?’
Kareem looked tense. ‘A search proved it to be true.’
He told himself that it could still be innocent, that she might just have been informing him where to contact her, although why would Kareem consider that noteworthy?
‘And do I really need to read a private email from Tora to her cousin?’
‘I think perhaps you should.’
And a chill descended his spine as he took the letter from his vizier’s hands.
Dear Matt
Don’t think twice about the quarter of a million—it’s a drop in the ocean to me right now. I’m just sorry you’re having a tough time of it.
As it happens, I won’t need to mortgage my home to help you out—we’
ll never have to mortgage anything ever again!—as I’ve stumbled on the mother lode: a rich petroleum billionaire who has royal connections. I know! The dollar signs in my eyes lit up too! I am confident I will be able to send you at least half a million dollars in one or two days.
Hang in there and keep watching that trust account—and keep listening for the ka-ching!
It’s coming!
Your cousin
Victoria
PS Yes, blood really is thicker than water.
Rashid’s blood ran so thick and cold it was practically curdling in his veins. A rich petroleum billionaire who has royal connections. The dollar signs in my eyes lit up too!
Something new and fragile threatened to crumble inside him then, his faith in her wanting to shatter into tiny pieces to scatter on the desert winds.
‘You see, Excellency,’ said Kareem, ‘why I thought you might be interested in reading the contents.’
He could see all right, but no, this was Tora they were talking about. ‘It cannot be true.’ No way could it be true. This could not be Tora writing this. And even if it was... He flicked the paper in his hand. ‘Surely this is some kind of joke?’
‘I am sorry, sire, we thought the same, but there is more. It seems this Matthew Burgess and a solicitor colleague are both being investigated by the financial authorities for misappropriation of client funds.’
‘There must be a misunderstanding, then. If this is the cousin Tora told me about, she doesn’t have anything to do with him.’
Kareem bowed his head.
‘What?’ demanded Rashid.
‘I wish I could say there had been some kind of mistake, but the solicitor’s account at the heart of the fraud case—it is the same account the sheikha had us transfer the quarter of a million dollars to.’ He paused. ‘And there is evidence that the sheikha had repeated visits and phone calls to her cousin’s office in Sydney before she came to Qajaran.’
‘But she told me that she has nothing to do with the cousin who lives in Sydney. Is there another cousin?’
Kareem bowed again. ‘I am sorry, sire. There is only the one.’