My Desert Rose

by Kalia Lewis

  Gingerly taking it out, she realised that this one was not sealed. Pulling out the contents revealed two annulment papers. One was in English and the other in Arabic. At the bottom, Tariq had signed his consent. It was to be annulled on the grounds of non-consummation. A tight feeling snuck across her chest. This was what she'd wanted, so why did it feel so wrong? The easiest thing to do would be to sign them now and leave them on the desk for Tariq to find, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. What she needed was some space in her own home to come to terms with everything.

  Closing the office door behind her, she'd just about made it into the bedroom before breaking down into huge racking sobs. When she was on that roof with Cecil, she'd realised that she loved Tariq, but now she was confused. Was it really love she'd felt? She didn't know, as she'd not had enough time to explore a relationship with him outside of the conditions he'd put upon it. Going into his dressing room, she took out a T-shirt from his drawer and put it on. The smell of him brought her some comfort and she lay down on top of the covers and sobbed her heart out until she fell into a restless sleep.

  Tariq sat in the dark and watched her sleep. Since the incident, unbeknown to Katie, he'd come here during the early hours of the morning just to hear her breathe. It hadn't been easy to step back and allow her to enforce the decision not to see him. There'd been times when he felt like bashing the door down and demanding an answer, but if anything, these last few weeks had taught him that this was not the way to go about doing things.

  This would be his final time of seeing her like this. When he'd arrived, he'd caught sight of the annulment papers on the bedside table. Well, it was done now, she'd obviously found the letter in his desk drawer along with her passport too. Today, she was leaving. Having grown up with everything he ever wanted at his fingertips, he'd never had to experience what loss felt like. Yes, he'd suffered from the loss of his ships and his men, but not this kind of excruciating pain. A loss so deep, where you feel you're sinking into a dark pit of nothing.

  Maybe he could have just one last touch, just one tiny stroke of her cheek before she walked away from him. Getting up from the chair, he took off his shoes and lay down next to her. She was facing him and he listened to the soft falls of her breath. Every word he'd written in that letter had come from his heart. There was nothing more stunningly beautiful than this woman. Running his finger gently down her cheek, she stirred in her sleep.

  "Tariq," she mumbled.

  "I love you, little moheet," he whispered.

  "I love you too," she breathed.

  Hearing those words from her lips caused his heart to miss a beat. Hope charged through him. Did she really love him? Her eyelids fluttered and he knew she was still asleep. Even though it was the hardest thing he'd ever have to do, he got up off the bed.

  "Come back to me," he whispered to her at the door.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It had been three long, wet and lonely weeks. Outside, it was once again raining. The mid-November winds were driving the droplets against her patio windows. Sitting in her duck-egg blue snuggle chair in the lounge of her Victorian terrace in Norwich, she watched a barge float past on the canal through the watery glass. Even without turning her head, she could feel the presence of the annulment documents over on the kitchen table. They'd been sitting there looking at her for three weeks now, almost burning a hole through the wood. It was like having a great big elephant in the room while pretending it really wasn't there.

  Every time she'd picked up a pen to sign them, she'd chickened out. Why? That was the question she'd asked herself over and over. Why not just get it over with and move on? But the thought of moving on without Tariq depressed her.

  Each day didn't bring her healing. Time was not proving itself to be a healer. In fact, nothing much got her roused these days. Not even the thought of a new photographic commission for a lucrative deal got her excited. Day after day, she just sat there and watched the rain. The only time she went out was to pick up supplies and the obligatory Sunday roast with her aunt and uncle. They were very supportive, asking all the right questions, but she'd just sit there chewing on a Yorkshire pudding, nodding in all the right places, yet feeling nothing.

  In her mind, she constantly argued with herself. The fact that she was moping over someone she'd hardly known proved that she was being ridiculous. How many people have a holiday fling and think nothing of it? They put the experience to the back of their mind, maybe laugh about it once in a while and carry on with life. She used to think Annabelle was nuts waiting ten years for Tristan. All that 'saving yourself for the one person' nonsense, but in truth, Tariq had become the marker for all of her future relationships. He was the gauge by which she'd measure them.

  A loud knock at her front door made her jump and nearly spill her coffee all over her. Shuffling to open it in the oversized feet of her onesie, she found Annabelle standing on the doorstep under an umbrella. They hadn't seen each other since Annabelle's wedding.

  "Well, are you going to let this pregnant woman in or shall I be left to get hypothermia and die on your doorstep?" she chirped in a no-nonsense voice.

  Katie didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

  Annabelle must have seen Katie's trembling lip as she immediately stepped inside and hugged her. They stood for a few moments in silence before Annabelle took off her coat and handed it to her. Katie smiled at the size of her stomach, which had expanded greatly in the last five weeks. "What did you do, swallow a small cow?"

  "No, it feels more like a herd," she answered breezily. "Anyway, what's that?"

  "What?"

  "That?"

  Katie looked to where she was pointing at her, "Oh, that's my onesie."

  Annabelle's eyebrows rose. "A onesie, huh? Seriously, it's a pink babygrow with purple polka dots on it."

  Katie laughed. In minutes, Annabelle already had her feeling better.

  "See," Annabelle smirked. "I came just at the right time to save you from reverting back twenty-eight years into an overgrown newborn."

  Katie followed Annabelle as she waddled into the open space of her kitchen and lounge.

  "Actually, I haven't come to save you," Annabelle said matter-of-factly.

  "You haven't?" She watched Annabelle lower herself into her snuggle chair.

  "No, I haven't forgiven you yet for withholding information, so I thought, rather than sit on my sofa at home in Edingthorpe not forgiving you, I may as well sit on your sofa, while you wait on me hand and foot, reminding me just how much I haven't forgiven you yet."

  Katie smiled. "I guess that's perfectly logical."

  Annabelle picked up Katie's cold cup of coffee and sniffed at it. "Ugh! I so can't take coffee anymore." Moving it aside, she patted the cushion next to her. "Come on. Come and sit with Agony Aunt Annabelle and tell me all about it."

  Katie frowned at the tiny space she was expected to squeeze into. "You want me to wedge my butt into that spare inch of a cushion?"

  "Yup, a snuggle chair is not a snuggle chair without any snuggling."

  Katie rolled her eyes, but inside a bubble of emotion was rising. She so needed a really good snuggle right now. Cramming herself into the small space next to her, she felt Annabelle's arms go about her and pull her into a full on hug. She smelt so good, like a field of fresh daisies on a summer's day. Nestling down, she rested her head in the crook of her arm.

  "How was the honeymoon?" Katie hoped a change of topic might ease the ache in her heart and give her something else to focus on.

  "Ha, ha, ha," chuckled Annabelle. "So, you think you're getting out of it? Okay, the really short version. It was fabulous. Now that's out of the way, Katarina, my little dark horse. Spill the beans!"

  Katie groaned. Annabelle had only been home from her honeymoon for a week and Katie had avoided her like the plague. It wasn't that she didn't want to tell her everything. Talking about it was proving to be difficult. Katarina Turan had been buried under the identity of Katie Sharpe and both fel
t like two different people to her. In truth, aspects of both needed to be laid to rest. "You spoke to Tariq, didn't you?"

  "Yup, and he told me everything. I have yet to forgive him too for kidnapping you from my wedding." She went quiet for a moment before continuing. "But, what I don't understand is that he says he loves you and you're here in a babygrow depressed and moping about, so you obviously have feelings for him, so why aren't you together right now sorting things out and doing the humpy pumpy?"

  Katie hooted out loud, which quickly turned into noisy tears. "I'm afraid," she sniffled out between loud sobs.

  "Afraid of what?"

  "I'm afraid of losing him." There, she'd said it. This is exactly what was really hidden deep down inside.

  Annabelle looked down at her in surprise. "Erm, I'm just pointing out the obvious here, okay? But you don't actually have him at the moment to lose him."

  Katie fished her tissue out of her purple onesie pocket and blew her nose. "I know, how ridiculous is that, but it's his lifestyle."

  "Okaaaaay, I can see that living in the desert may not be everyone's cup of tea, but he has homes, like, everywhere. Surely he has one you'll like?"

  Katie smiled despite the layer of realisation that was rising. "No, I don't mean like that. I mean, what if someone breaks into our home and hurts us, hurts him? I couldn't recover from that happening again."

  "Katie honey, you sound like yourself as that six year old."

  A fresh set of tears emerged. "I think it's actually my inner six year old speaking. She doesn't want to be that vulnerable. Tariq lives in a huge world, a vast space. I live in a little safe box. If I go to him I will feel exposed, open to abuse and loss."

  Annabelle sighed heavily. "But no-one is truly safe. It's the risk you take for love. You don't know what's around the corner. All you can do is live in this moment. If you don't seize the day, you'll end up alone. In fact, a very wise friend once told me that I had to stop running and face my fear."

  Now they were both crying.

  "I love him," Katie spurted through the snot and the tears.

  "Annabelle blew her nose, "You don't say!"

  "But I don't know where he is?"

  "I do," Annabelle replied smiling. "In fact, I have a message for you. Digging in her pocket, she pulled out a piece of paper and read from it. "Come to me, my desert rose." Turning, she winked at her whilst grinning. "Aw, how sweet is that, eh? I'd be there like a shot with that poetry in my ear!"

  Katie tutted and snatched it from her to read it again. Underneath was an address in Socotra. A rush of excitement flowed through her. Maybe they could build a Fort Knox together? She shook her head. No, if she was going to do this, then she needed to do it standing tall with open eyes and huge amounts of awareness. Her father had told her that he'd received a warning of a threat a few days before they'd ambushed the house. If only he'd listened her mother and brother would be alive today. That's the guilt he'd carried around with him. From this cruel lesson, he said that if he could teach her only one tool for surviving life, it would be to listen carefully and take the right action. Not to hesitate, which she just realised was exactly what she'd been doing.

  "I have a suitcase to pack," she whispered.

  "That's more like the Kat I know," smiled Annabelle.

  "Kat?" she gave Annabelle a puzzled look.

  "Yeah, I decided, whilst considering whether to forgive you or not, that Kat covers both names of Katarina and Katie."

  Katie gave her the biggest hug. "Thank you," she sighed into her shoulder before rising out of the chair and picking up the annulment papers. Grinning, she ripped them in half. "I guess the reason for an annulment won't stand up in a court of law if it's not true."

  Annabelle clapped her hands. "That's great, but honey, I'd leave the onesie behind if I were you, it's just so not sexy."

  Katie bent over and laughed so hard she began to cough. "What would I do without you?"

  "You'd be a lonely old maid. Oh, and on your way upstairs can you call that takeaway that does those little dough ball things? A cup of herbal tea would be nice too."

  Katie put her hands on her hips in protest. "What am I? Your servant?"

  "Yup, it's my way of letting you know that I haven't forgiven you yet."

  Chapter Seventeen

  Katie drove the hire car around the last bend and there, nestled in the sand dunes with the view of the turquoise Indian Ocean, was Tariq's secluded beach house. Raised on stilts, it was made from wood and was one storey high with a balcony that extended around the front and sides of the building. It was simple and sturdy. This house reflected Tariq much more than his opulent family home in the north. It felt like a middle ground between her small box and his vast world, like a bridge. A sigh escaped her. Only he would know that this was exactly what she'd needed, and yet she'd doubted him.

  Guilt snapped its sharp teeth at her. If she'd let him see her during the week after the incident perhaps he would've shown this side of himself. There was so much to discover where Tariq was concerned, and that both excited her and scared the bejeezers out of her. All she knew at this moment was that she loved him and wanted him so completely. There would be no-one else for her. Somehow, he'd managed to draw out the best and the worst in her and having him in her life had revealed aspects of herself that she didn't even know she had.

  Walking up the stairs, she knocked lightly on the door. Soft music was playing somewhere inside. It was hauntingly beautiful, like a call to the soul. She wondered if it was the Alma song he'd spoken about during their first dinner together. After a few moments of waiting, she turned the handle and stepped inside. The door closed quietly behind her. The white pristine kitchen, dining and living room were all one huge space, moving seamlessly from one to the other. A bank of bi-folding glass doors had been opened, extending the living space out onto the balcony, making it feel that the outside, with the sound of the ocean, was also inside.

  Tariq was standing with his back to her on the balcony wearing rolled-up chino pants and a white shirt, which was flapping gently in the breeze. There was a quiet presence about him, a strength, which she knew she could take rest in. Suddenly, she froze. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Panic assailed her. What if he'd changed his mind? What if he didn't want her like she wanted him? Turning back to the door to grasp at the handle, a vision so unbelievable caused a huge wave of shock to engulf her. There, on the console table at the side of the door was a small white pot. A single green stalk was growing from its centre, and at the top it held the head of a perfect golden rose. Its petals were open wide and tipped with a vibrant pink. It was a desert rose.

  "It's for you."

  His warm breath on her neck made her shiver and her knees nearly buckled. "How did you know I'd come?" she whispered.

  A butterfly kiss landed on her nape and she almost fainted with the zing of electrical pulses that it sent through her body.

  "Because we are each other's home and when you're away from home, you feel restless, like a piece of you is missing."

  The words were softly spoken on her neck between tiny kisses. Tingles vibrated down her spine. Oh, now she wanted to forget about fainting and just melt into a little pool on the floor instead. Turning to face him, she met his eyes. The look in the depths of those soft, coffee coloured orbs was one of vulnerability. It was so raw it made her catch her breath. "I won't lie to you, I'm scared, Tariq."

  Every day for the last three weeks of her absence he'd prayed that he would be forgiven. Lifting his hand up, he cupped her face and smiled back into the blue of her eyes. "Me too, little moheet," he replied tenderly. "I've never had to let something go before and allow it the freedom to be itself. To live in hope that it will love me enough to come back for me."

  A little sob escaped her. "I do love you, Tariq."

  His thumb moved gently across her bottom lip. "Then show me."

  The beat of her heart pulsed in her chest and all that she felt for him rushed through her body. Rea
ching out, she pulled his head down and sought out his lips with her own, fusing them together.

  Not giving her time to back out, he scooped her up into his arms and made his way towards the bedroom. Laying her down on the comforter, he took a moment to drink her in. Golden hair fanned out around her and a pink blush had crept up her neck and into her cheeks. Big blue eyes openly watched him. Trust was shining out of them. "Utterly beautiful," he murmured, whilst lowering himself to kiss the trail of the pink blush down her neck and across her chest.

  Katie sighed as he began to undo the little buttons down the front of her blouse, revealing her white laced bra.

  Gently cupping each breast and feeling the weight of them through the lace, he asked playfully, "Does this one open at the front too?"

  "Yes," she giggled lightly and undid the clasp.

  Full breasts spilled forth and he groaned as he lowered his mouth to suck on her erect nipples.

  "Oh," she whimpered, as she ran her hands through his hair whilst wriggling her hips against him.

  "You want this?" he crooned against her breast as he cupped her mound between her legs.

  "Yes, that's exactly what I want and you have to give it to me," she replied in a husky, playful voice.

  "Is that right," he teased back as he undid the buttons of her jeans.

  "Uh huh," she nodded whist raising her hips for him to roll down her jeans and lace briefs.

  Getting up to pull them all the way off, Tariq dropped her jeans to the floor and then looked back at her. She'd discarded her blouse and bra and now lay there completely naked. Desire so powerful hit him in the gut and his heart swelled with a knowing that she was here of her own free will.