by Sophia Lynn
Then he had opened the door, and the doubts flew out of his head.
Anna had always been beautiful, though he realized now that he hadn't understood it. So much of his taste was shaped by starlets and princesses that he almost didn't recognize Anna's beauty, which combined an unaffected grace with a natural look that now made his heart beat faster.
Dressed in a gown made by a masterful designer, with her eyes outlined in dark kohl and with her hair artfully pulled back, there was a glamor to her that could rival the grace of any of the women he had known. It didn't matter that she wasn't a star or that she wasn't born to money. She would do just fine in his world, and he knew that the people of the UAE would come to adore her just as he did.
She was quiet in the car, and he took the opportunity to examine his own thoughts.
The more he thought on it, the more adore seemed like a cheap and shallow word for what he felt for her. Instead, there was something else there, something far deeper and far more meaningful. With a start, Rakim realized that the feelings he had picked up for his unassuming librarian were far deeper than what he had felt for any other woman.
He loved her.
The thought struck him with the force of lightning, and he looked at her with something like awe. It was love, and he felt himself soar with it.
It was on the tip of Rakim's tongue to tell her, but he pulled himself back. There would be time enough to do it later, he decided. Time enough to pull her aside gently, to tell her how he truly felt.
Time to get a ring.
The thought made him smile, and Anna shot him a quizzical look, but then the car was pulling up to the red carpet, and they were sweeping out into the crowd.
Though she looked faintly nervous, Anna kept a smile on her face, and answered the questions in a way that made her seem beautifully mysterious. He had told her she could answer whatever she liked, and it seemed like she was demurring on the side of being polite and kind without revealing too much of herself. It was going to make the press wild to know more about her, and Rakim absently reminded himself to schedule an interview for her with a suitable correspondent sooner rather than later.
Rakim wanted to spend the rest of the evening by her side, but as soon as they entered the gala's main floor, there were a dozen people ringing him, wanting to greet him after his long absence or wanting his support on this issue or that one. Anna stayed by him for a short while, but the tides of the city’s soirees could be intense. Soon enough, they were separated, and though he knew he should go find her, there was always another hand to shake, another word to be had.
Chapter Nine
This isn't nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be, Anna thought with surprise.
She had expected to find herself out of her depth and drowning, but as it turned out, she was unexpectedly good at treading water.
"Remember that they are going to see you as the prize goose," Madam Artois had said casually, while they were measuring her for yet another gown. "Everyone is going to want a taste of you."
"That's terrible," Anna had said, already gulping back her fear. "How does anyone survive that?"
Madame Artois straightened up for a moment to smile at her, and Anna remembered that this woman was a veteran of a lifetime of social occasions.
"Why, by remembering that you are a dragon, of course," she said. "Or if that is too difficult, by remembering that it is a dragon that has dressed you like a princess, and that it is a dragon they will be answering to if they offer you the least amount of discomfort."
The vivid advice had stuck, even if it was a little funny to imagine Rakim breathing fire, and finally, Anna had understood. Rakim was a powerful man and a fierce one. More than once, she had heard him on his phone, berating those who had displeased him or ensuring that everything ran smoothly in his absence. Then he would look up at her and smile with such gentleness that she was warmed by it.
She knew without a doubt that Rakim would protect her, and that was how she made it through the first gauntlet. She kept her answers short, she smiled, and more than once, she caught a smile from the person asking the questions.
This isn't too bad at all, she decided, but then she was separated from Rakim.
Anna honestly had no idea how it had happened. One moment, she was at his elbow, listening to him discuss the possibility of new digital solutions for the city, and the next, the crowd had thickened, pushing them apart.
She remembered that parties in the Victorian era were known as crushes, and for perhaps the first time, she understood them. When she squirmed and slithered her way to a clear and sheltered place behind a pillar, Rakim was nowhere to be seen, and she had the feeling that she had just escaped a stampede.
Well, what do I do now? Anna wondered.
She figured that she had just a few options. First, she could stay right where she was and hope that Rakim came to find her. While it certainly did appeal to the more wallflower aspects of her personality, a part of her cringed at the idea of waiting for a rescue like a delicate maiden. Some things were too much even for her.
Second, she could go looking for him, but that didn't quite appeal either. She winced at the idea of pulling at his elbow like a child, too nervous to make her own friends or to swim in these adult waters. No, he was a busy man, and he had people that he needed to see here. He couldn't really do the work that he needed to do if she was always at his elbow, monopolizing his attention.
However, that left her with option number three, where she ventured out and attempted to make her own friends. For a moment, the shy girl she had been utterly refused. The people who were circulating through the soiree were more exciting, more social and far more beautiful than she could ever be. She would be laughed at, and even worse, she would embarrass Rakim, who had such faith in her.
Then Anna took a deep breath and remembered that after all, Rakim was her dragon. He had promised her that she would not be insulted, and that if she was, he would come to her rescue. The fact that he had such a great deal of faith in her touched her deep inside, made her smile when otherwise she might have cried.
“I can do this,” Anna whispered to herself, and in that moment, she knew that it was true.
She took a deep breath, stood up as tall as she could, and strode into the fray.
It was like learning how to walk all over again in some ways. She had to learn how to dodge through the crowds while looking like she was moving at her own pace, how to figure out who was talking to her without turning around too quickly, and how to smile and be as welcoming as she could when her knees were shaking.
Somehow, though, as she made her way through the crowd, Anna realized that it was going to be all right. These people were, after all, just people, and they wanted to talk with her and to eat and dance. Nothing confusing, nothing terrible, and all she had to do really was smile and nod. It was too loud for them to quiz her too much, and sooner than she thought possible, she was smiling without artifice.
This might not be her kind of party, but the truth was that it was costing her far less than it might. She was startled at how confident she felt, and for perhaps the first time, Anna thought that she would be able to survive in Rakim's rarefied world after all.
At some point, she looked up and realized that she was getting thirsty. A quick look around told her that Rakim was still nowhere to be seen, and so she shrugged and looked around for the refreshment table. There were waiters circulating with tall flutes of champagne, but she had never been someone who was all that interested in alcohol.
There were dozens of delicious delicacies at the tall round tables scattered across the crowded room, and while she was looking for one that might hold some water, she felt a presence at her elbow. She almost expected to see Rakim there when she looked up, but instead it was a stranger, one who was tall and darkly handsome. He wore a jawline beard, and the look he gave her was surprisingly familiar.
“You look as if you are a little lost,” said the stranger, and she smil
ed hesitantly.
“Um, not really,” she said. “I'm just looking for some water.”
“It is a little hard to get water when the waiters are so busy,” he said. “Perhaps I can help you out.”
She started to protest that he didn't need to do anything of the sort, but then he had snagged a passing waiter by the elbow, speaking to him in rapid-fire Arabic. He gestured, and the waiter strode off as the stranger turned back to her.
“There are a few benches where you can get out of the crush,” he said kindly. “I told the waiter to come find us there.”
The moment he mentioned the crush, Anna did notice how tight it had become and how tired she was of being on her feet. She glanced around, wishing that she could tell Rakim where she was going, but he was still off somewhere with the people he had come to see. Well, it was likely that she would not be long drinking her water, and he could always find her if he needed her.
She was less certain about the man who was looking down at her with such a wide smile. He looked perfectly friendly and kind, and it was hardly as if he could have gotten into the soiree in the first place if he was some kind of terrible human being. However, when he offered her his arm, she only took it hesitantly, feeling a warning trill of some kind going down her spine.
He led her off to one of the small alcoves that lined the edge of the open floor. They were recesses where there were small tables and benches where people could pause for a breather. To Anna's surprise, instead of looking for an empty one, he came to one that had a couple chatting in it and said a few abrupt words in Arabic to them. The couple immediately stood and walked away, and he ushered her into the alcove with a victorious flourish.
“Were...were they done?” Anna asked hesitantly. She wasn't sure, but she wondered if the man had given them an irritated look before ushering his date away.
“Of course they were,” her companion said with a smile. “They were only too happy to move. Now you must tell me your name. I am sure that I would have remembered it if we had met before, and the fact that I do not know it now seems to me to be some sort of terrible thing.”
For one mad moment, Anna wanted to avoid telling him her name at all. There was something about this man that made her uncomfortable, and the less he knew of her, even if it was just her name, the better. Then she realized that she was being ridiculous, and perhaps even rude to someone who was only trying to do her a good turn, and smiled politely at him.
“My name is Anna,” she said, hoping that it would be enough for him. “Um, why don't you tell me your name as well?”
His grin turned triumphant and she wondered what in the world he had to look so triumphant over. They were exchanging names, not doing anything profound or important.
“Anna, how lovely,” he said, his voice far smokier than she thought it had any right to be. “My name is Iriq Al Raschid, and I am very honored to meet you.”
She laughed a little self-consciously. She wasn't sure why she had no idea what to do with her hands, or why she felt as if she was blushing so hard, but it was a terribly uncomfortable sensation. There was something about this man that made her feel hunted, and suddenly, she was beginning to regret having sat down at all.
“Well, I'm not sure at all why you feel honored,” she found herself saying. “I mean...I'm really not anyone important at all.”
She had been gesturing with her hands, and to her shock, Iriq took one in his. To her distaste, his hand felt large and slightly damp, and if she was meant to be charmed by this, he had missed the mark by a wide margin. However, with her hand trapped in his, she couldn't make the escape that she wanted to make, and she found herself biting her lip with worry.
“Well, there I would beg to differ,” he said smoothly. “After all, you walk in a kind of beauty that is eye-catching the moment you appear.”
“I'm certain that has more to do with Rakim than it does with me,” she said desperately. Anna had seen countless girlfriends use this maneuver, where they invoked a male companion to extricate themselves from a particularly unpleasant situation. She had never thought that she would be someone who needed to use it herself, however, and she mentally crossed her fingers, hoping that it would work.
To her dismay, it only seemed to make Iriq more intent.
“Well, Rakim has always had excellent taste in women,” he said with a wink. “We do tend to find the same women attractive. For example, we are both drawn to fiery women, ones who carry the passion of a dozen suns in their hearts and their lips.”
Self-consciously, Anna's hand flew up to her lips. She remembered that she was wearing lipstick just in time, and she didn't smudge it, but the discomfort remained. Though she wanted nothing more than to get out of this strange encounter, she could not deny that a part of her was reluctantly and perhaps poisonously curious about the other women Rakim had been with. She had heard so often that they were incredibly different from her...but what did that mean?
“Have you known many of his...women?” she asked, stuttering over the word. She and Rakim had never put a word on what was between them. What did it look like to other people? Who had occupied this space before?
“You mean his lovers,” Iriq said with an expression that could only be classified as a smirk. Anna had a moment to wonder why it looked so very good on Rakim and so very distasteful on Iriq before he spoke again.
“When it comes to Rakim, only the best will do,” Iriq said, and she wondered if perhaps there was a thread of envy in that smooth voice. “It might be horses or wine or property, but he is a wealthy man who is very much used to getting his way. When it comes to women, he demands nothing but the finest, which is why there are so many eyes on you today.”
Anna didn't know quite what to say to such a thing, and she was more than relieved when the waiter appeared with two glasses of sparkling water. She wished that the young man would stay longer, but Iriq dismissed him with a curt nod.
“So if Rakim brought you here,” Iriq said, almost to himself, “what is it about you that makes you so perfect?”
“Why, are you looking for his scraps?” she asked, and then she clasped her hand over her mouth. She had never spoken that bluntly or cruelly to anyone, but for some reason, it seemed to make Iriq more amused than insulted, though she could hardly understand how.
“Well, perhaps that answers my question,” Iriq said. “As I said, he likes his women fiery, and if you have a tongue that is as sharp as a sword, it hints to many things...”
“I'm not sure that I like where this is going,” she began, and to her shock, when she tried to pull her hand out of his, he only held on to it more tightly.
“You could find out,” he offered. “You might like it a great deal.”
I can't believe this is happening, Anna had time to think, and she knew that right now, she had to keep all of her wits around her. If she made too much of a fuss or a commotion, the people around them would see, and who knew what that might mean for Rakim? If she made too little fuss, Iriq, who already looked like a man who could not take a clue or a hint to save his life, might think that he was welcome to more, when he most certainly was not.
“I don't think that I am at all interested in finding out,” she said, putting as much deadly frost into her voice as she could. “As a matter of fact, I think that I should leave. Thank you for fetching the water, I do appreciate it.”
Even then he wouldn't let go of her hand. Instead, Iriq's grin only got wider, as if her refusal had somehow made her even more attractive to him.
"What a very good thing," he said. "I am sure that there is a great deal you could do that I would appreciate as well..."
She stared, because apparently outright rudeness wasn't going to do the trick, and from here, she was running out of ideas. While she was frozen in dismay, however, Iriq had taken it upon himself to move things along.
Before Anna could think to stop him, he reached over and deftly unfastened the pin that held her shawl together. She gasped as the weight o
f the shawl caused it to slither straight down to the bench, and Iriq whistled appreciatively.
"Well, that does explain some of my questions about why Rakim seems so enamored with you," Iriq murmured.
The dress that had seemed far too racy in her bedroom at the townhouse was somehow even worse in the bright light of the soiree. It was especially bad with a man like Iriq leering at her, and she felt a surge of anger well up in her.
I don't care what it looks like, I want to get away from him now, she thought.
She yanked her hand away from him, and perhaps he was too entranced by the low-cut dress because he let her go.
"Please, Anna—"
"Don't say my name," she hissed. "I hate the way it sounds when you say that, and for the love of god, do not touch me again! Can't you see that I am not interested in you in the least!"
The moment his arm went around her, however, Anna knew that she should simply have fled when she was free. Instead, he proved himself to be far quicker than she thought he would be. One arm went around her shoulders, while the opposite hand cupped her cheek, tilting her head up for his kiss.
The moment his lips touched hers, she felt a wave of revulsion spread through her body. It simply felt wrong, and for a moment, she almost threw up. It would have been an interesting moment of poetic justice if she had thrown up, but then she was pushing him away, taking huge gasps for air. She knew that she was likely turning red, and she couldn't imagine that she looked at all attractive, but Iriq's gaze seemed undimmed.
"You...you..."
"You are beautiful when you are angry," Iriq said admiringly, and he reached for her again.
Anna drew air into her lungs to scream, because enough was enough, but then Rakim appeared.
He stood in the doorway of the alcove, his face a dark thundercloud. With one arm he swept her away from Iriq, and for a moment, Anna was simply so overwhelmed with relief that she nearly collapsed. However, Rakim didn't look at her, and only seemed to have eyes for the other man, who rose up from the bench, hands stuffed insolently in his pockets.