by Holly Rayner
Rosie shrugged, then, realizing she needed to speak. “Well. I can’t say it was fate that brought us together, Hakan. Not when what really brought us together was my abject clumsiness. Trust me. It’s famous around here.”
At that, Hakan let his head fall back and laughed, deeply, making her giggle along as well. In moments, they were laughing like children, on top of the world. Nobody else on earth would have understood the joke.
“If you say so, Rosie. If you say so,” he chuckled.
After the next course, Rosie excused herself to go to the bathroom. She wanted to ensure her lipstick was still stellar, that she didn’t look like such a lush after so much wine. It was lolling around her head, causing her to feel dizzy as she spoke.
In the mirror, she eyed herself warmly, tapping at her cheeks. She was twenty-nine, but looked younger, she thought. She hoped she would retain her looks into her thirties. Especially if she was ever going to get married. Perhaps this date would be the first of many encounters. A girl could dream, couldn’t she?
When Rosie returned to the table, she was surprised to see someone other than the waiter hovering by their table, speaking in harsh tones to Hakan.
The Middle-Eastern man, dressed in rich, earthy colors, was much older than Hakan, perhaps over seventy, and had wrinkled hands and beady eyes. His hands moved quickly as he spoke, creating a sort of spider dance. Rosie hung back until he noticed her, and immediately eyed her suspiciously. What was going on?
Soon, the man righted himself. Hakan thanked him for the information with a slight bow of his head, and the man acknowledged Rosie silently.
Rosie sat back down, her eyes questioning.
“One of my aides,” Hakan explained. “He can be a bit like a guard dog at times. Always watching out for me, certain that everything I do will ruin both me and the family.” He laughed. “Please, don’t let him bother you.”
“I won’t,” Rosie promised, feeling assured. Of course Hakan couldn’t choose the way all of his staff acted. And everyone was just human, after all. She decided to let the strange feeling pass.
Although she was full, she was more than ready to taste the next course. The spices and textures were incredible, transporting her to another, almost alien world.
They continued their meal, chatting blissfully about her work, about his expectations for when he arrived in his home country, and also about little things. Their favorite foods. Their favorite music. If she thought she might want to get married someday. Every topic was open to them, if only because Rosie knew they would never see each other again. She imagined, somehow, that she was just practicing for another date. But she couldn’t quite shake what he’d said earlier, about fate.
The waiter removed their empty plates and Hakan stood, extending his elbow for her to take.
Rosie did so, feeling herself teeter with the wine as she joined him. She placed her free hand over her mouth, dabbing at her lipstick. “I shouldn’t have drunk so much wine,” she murmured. “I’m more of a lightweight than I used to be.”
“Did I get you drunk? That was never my intention,” he said devilishly, winking at her afterwards.
She shook her head, again feeling that insane electricity between them.
As they boarded the elevator, they heard the last of the hubbub of the city below, and Rosie tried to memorize the gorgeous scene: the decorated table, the roses, the tealights, everything. She sighed into Hakan, leaning her heavy head on his chest. She longed for him, suddenly—feeling closer to him, to his body, than she had to anyone in years.
FOUR
Rosie and Hakan stood outside the restaurant, looking at each other with eager, wine-tinged eyes. They’d been speaking nearly non-stop for three hours, and yet, suddenly, they both found pause, unsure of what was meant to come next.
Rosie cleared her throat, finally. She knew she needed to act fast. This was her last chance—and she was throwing caution out the window.
“So, do you need help finding your hotel again? Because I might be available for a guided tour.” Her words were flirtatious, but were they too desperate? She worried inwardly.
But Hakan shook his head, gesturing toward the street, where a limousine sat, engine humming. “I think I have it covered.”
Rosie felt her heart slide down into the depths of her stomach. So this was it, then. She was going to be sent home, like Cinderella, while Hakan drove smoothly back to his old life. She supposed it was time, anyway. She could almost hear the clock striking.
“You know, you look beautiful tonight,” Hakan said, leaning toward her. “Your red hair, this dress. You’re mesmerizing.”
“You look very handsome yourself,” she whispered, her breath catching.
She began to lean toward him, then, thinking she’d just kiss him on the cheek; knowing she needed to leave before things became too painful for her.
But as she leaned further, she lost her balance, falling head-over-heels into his arms, clattering her heels on the ground on the way.
Hakan acted quickly, like a sportsman, extending his arms just so, allowing her to fall easily, smoothly into him. He held her tight in that moment, their eyes aligning. Rosie felt her heart stop. Could he sense how nervous she’d become? Could he sense that all she wanted was to kiss him?
All at once, he bridged the distance between them, bringing his lips to hers. She closed her eyes instinctively, feeling dizzy as their lips and tongues united in a sort of curious, quiet conversation.
Her passion opened her mouth still wider, as if she were suddenly crying out for his affection. She couldn’t believe this was happening. Her entire body was folded into his, and he clung onto her tightly, rolling his hands over her back, wrapping them around her waist. His hands were large, sturdy. Everything about him spoke of masculinity, and it made her want him that much more.
Finally, they thrust their heads apart, blinking wildly. Hakan flashed his signature smile, and, without speaking, kissed her nose. Somehow, after no words being exchanged, they both understood. They held hands and leaped into the back of the limousine, wrapping their arms around each other as the door closed behind them, and falling into another passionate kiss.
Rosie didn’t notice the driver setting off through the streets of downtown. She fell full-tilt into the emotion of the moment, feeling the cool Seattle air as it flew over them through the open windows. Sounds of alarms and sirens and people talking surrounded them, becoming a backdrop to their story that began and ended with their embrace.
The limo pulled up to the Edgewater Hotel several minutes later, and they reluctantly drew back from each other. Hakan reared up toward the front and thanked the driver before he and Rosie leaped from the limo and raced toward the door. Rosie took a quick peek at the water, that which had given her such solace the day before, and felt her heart burn with fear and desire. She couldn’t question it anymore. She’d come too far.
They burst into the hotel and swept toward the elevator bank, their hands still clinging to each other. Hakan inserted his room key into a metallic panel, and the elevator doors swept wide, revealing floor-to-ceiling mirrors on all sides.
“You’ll love my suite,” he murmured, bringing his fingers through her hair. “It’s the presidential.”
“Not the ‘monarch’?” she teased, biting her lip before kissing him again.
The elevator swept them all the way to the top of the building before opening directly into the hotel penthouse. Rosie covered her mouth with her hands, eyes wide, as she stepped into the cavernous room. Marble floors swept upward into marble columns. There was a gleaming kitchen on one side, with a breakfast nook that offered a view of the light peppered city, along with the largest bed she’d ever seen in her life. Mirrors lined the walls, and Rosie inspected herself shyly, realizing she looked better than she remembered. Her waist was scrunched tight, her legs toned from running all over the obstetrics floor.
She felt the Sheikh’s hands around her waist, then, and she spun around toward hi
m, whispering, “This is the most remarkable night of my life.”
He kissed her again, hungrily, and she found that his fingers were on the buttons of her dress, that they were stripping each other naked and feeling each other’s warmth.
They fell onto the ground, on a luxurious woven rug that stretched over the marble, and they found each other’s bodies wholly, completely. Sex was like the capper of their continuous conversation, and their bodies seemed to understand the other’s language, despite coming from different worlds; despite having no future together. But together, they felt comfort and release.
Afterwards, they lay on the rug side by side, looking at each other with sleepy eyes.
“That was wonderful,” Hakan finally said, his words raspy. “You’re wonderful,” he added, running his finger over her cream-like skin on her upper arm.
Rosie looked at him longingly, rolling toward him and feeling his body against hers. She placed her head on his shoulder as he asked her, softly: “Do you want to crawl in bed with me?”
He helped her to her feet and they walked together, crawling under the blankets and finding solace in sleep. All night, they wrapped their limbs around each other, clinging on to this beautiful thing that couldn’t be theirs, not forever.
FIVE
Rosie blinked awake the following morning, finding her eyelashes brushing against Hakan’s shoulder. She reared her head back, gazing at him, realizing that, for the first time in years, every muscle in her body was completely relaxed, completely free. She hadn’t felt so comfortable, so content, since she was a girl, in her childhood bed. She snuggled deeper into him, and he wrapped his arm around her, uniting them as one unit. She grinned to herself, wondering how she could have become so lucky.
Hakan brought his finger over her cheek, then, drawing a tingling line to her neck. “How did you sleep?” he asked.
“Like a child,” she murmured. “This is the most comfortable bed in the world.”
“You should see the one I have in New York,” he said, raising himself up on his arm. “It’s even bigger than this one, and from it, you have a view of all of Manhattan.”
Rosie closed her eyes, trying to imagine it. How was her body still humming from last night?
“I thought you said you liked to live a normal kind of life? You and your burger and fries?” she teased.
Hakan laughed. “Touché,” he chortled. “Now that you mention it, I want to ask you a question—but it might involve a bit of finery. Will you accept it?”
After a brief, fake hesitation, Rosie said she would.
“All right. Tell me, are you at all interested in room service? Somehow, after a bit of activity in the middle of the night, I am absolutely starving.”
“Room service?” Rosie brought her face over his and kissed him, her heart light. “Just another day in the life of luxury, eh?”
At that moment, Rosie’s stomach let out a massive growl between them, and they fell into a fit of giggles.
Hakan shook his head and reached for the nightstand, where he lifted the phone and ordered room service. “Just everything. Everything you have right now. We don’t care what it is,” he said, so blasé. As he spoke, his eyes met with Rosie’s. Every second, they were linked.
After he hung up, he rolled back toward her. “I had a great time last night. I’m still having a great time.” His word bled with affirmation, with truth. “I don’t want you to ever leave this bed, Rosie Lund. I want to keep you here, so I can find you when I get home from work, and we can repeat everything we did last night.”
Rosie combed her fingers through his near-black hair. “You think you can rule your country from this bed in Seattle?”
“I really don’t see why not. As you already said, I am the constitutional monarch. I should be able to do whatever I please.”
They spoke for a few minutes, finding easy banter with each other, before the doorbell of the presidential suite rang.
Hakan leapt up, donning a pair of pants, before coming back with plates, platters, mimosas, fruits. “Everything they had in the kitchen,” he said proudly, laying everything out on the bed. “What do you think of that?”
Rosie shook her head, in view of more food than she’d ever seen in her life. She wrapped her blanket around her, afraid to be seen eating naked by this man she hardly knew. Wasn’t that far too intimate?
But Hakan had removed his pants once more and leaped into bed with her, grabbing the pitcher of mimosa and filling two crystal glasses.
“To a beautiful morning,” he said, tapping his glass gently against Rosie’s.
They began to eat, Rosie chewing slowly and gazing out the window. Seattle was bright and alive, without many of the clouds that normally permeated the sky.
“What are you doing today?” she asked after a pause, knowing that whatever the answer was, she needed to be okay with it.
“Well, let’s see,” Hakan said, stretching. “Today, I want to be right here, in this bed. I want to cuddle with you. And then I want to eat an even better dinner and do it all over again. Is that all right with you?”
Rosie glowed. She didn’t have to go back to work that day, and she wanted to gobble up as much of this glorious existence as possible. It was almost too good to be true. “That sounds wonderful,” she purred.
Almost as if fate had the final word, however, in that instant, the phone rang. Hakan slid his mimosa onto the table and rushed to his pants, where his cellphone was, and frowned. “Sorry, I have to take this,” he said, his voice stern.
But Rosie wasn’t worried. She reached for a piece of pineapple and chewed at it languidly, allowing the sweet flavor to roll down her tongue. She brought her knees close to her chest beneath the blankets, even letting a bit of her skin to come to view. She wanted him to see. She wanted to keep him in this world: the world of her body, the world of their passion.
But it quickly became clear that he would not stay in this world. Hakan’s expression had changed completely. He was no longer the man who had sat across from her, joking over dinner. He was no longer the man who had kissed her and fallen to the floor with her, ready to find solace in her body.
No. Right at that moment, he was the Sheikh.
His words were harsh, spoken in his native language, Arabic. It came rapidly, angrily, and the conversation turned tense. Rosie placed the pineapple on the plate, feeling her hunger flee.
Hakan kept going, never looking up at Rosie, who was more distressed than he, she was sure. She yearned to go back in time, to live the previous evening over and over again. Her heart was falling into her stomach. It was like a veil was being lifted.
When Hakan hung up the phone, he placed his hands on his waist, blinking out toward the Seattle skyline. He spoke gruffly. “Well, Rosie, it seems it’s time. It’s time for me to stop playing games in America and take the throne. I really thought I had a few more days…” he trailed off, his voice full of regret.
Rosie didn’t say anything. She felt her disappointment, like a wave, drown them both in the presidential suite. Before her, the food was going sour.
Hakan dressed quickly, into a smart suit he had stored in the closet. He scrubbed his armpits with deodorant and packed a small bag with just his essentials. Rosie was amazed at how quick his movements were. The morning had fallen apart without pomp or circumstance, and now, it was like they were strangers.
He walked toward the bed, then, looking at Rosie like she was a wounded animal.
Still naked beneath the sheets, the food splayed before her, she reared up on her knees and hugged him—trying not to hold him too tightly. He wasn’t hers to keep, she reminded herself. He belonged to an entire country. Her heart felt like it was being broken in two.
“Keep doing your wonderful work,” the Sheikh told her softly, kissing her on the mouth. “You are a beautiful, true woman. Please remember that, Rosie.”
With that, Hakan strode from the room and into the elevator. The doors closed, creating a void in which Rosie
remained, lost in a world that no longer existed.
Rosie stared at her palms, then. She couldn’t believe it had all happened so quickly. She’d met the man of her dreams; they’d fallen for each other, almost instantly; and with that, he had had to leave. She felt abandoned, but she knew it wasn’t his fault. She couldn’t ask him to change his entire life, just for a one-night stand.
A one-night stand. That was all. That’s what she had to remember.
Rosie strolled naked toward the bay window and peered down, noticing that the Seattle sky was once again covered in clouds. The blue sky was gone for good, preparing for autumn. Far below, she saw the Sheikh dive into his limousine, which carried him from the parking lot, down the road, and out of sight.