Harts of Arizona Series

by Yahrah St. John

  Amar didn’t want to feel anything, but he could feel tears threatening. He refused to be weak, even in this moment.

  “Why are you saying this now?”

  “Because I need you to know,” his father whispered, “that she was the love of my life, and so were you.”

  Amar frowned. “What? What did you just say?” He was confused.

  His father motioned Amar closer so he could hear him. Amar leaned forward.

  “I didn’t know how to love because my father had never shown it to me as his father had never shown him it to him. I tried to show you by giving you the best in life.”

  “Material possessions never meant anything to me, Father. But you never got that. All I ever wanted was your love and your affection.”

  “And I couldn’t give it. Not with my entire heart, because I knew if I did, I would walk away from everything, from the kingdom, from my responsibilities. And I couldn’t do it. I’d been groomed for this life.”

  “So you chose wealth and power over me and Mother?” Amar stepped away from the bed. Hearing this now was too much and too late.

  “I know,” his father murmured, “and I’m ashamed by my actions. It’s why it’s always been so hard for me to have you around. You were a constant reminder of my shortcomings, of my cowardice.”

  “And what do you want me to do with this information now?” Amar asked, turning back around to face the man he both loved and hated.

  “Forgive me, son.” His father reached his hand out to Amar. “Forgive me for my failures as a father.”

  “You have no idea what you’re asking of me.” Amar had spent his entire life hating him, all the while wishing that his father had loved him as he did Khalid and Tariq. Now he was saying he loved him, had always loved him, but could Amar believe him?

  “I do know what I’m asking, but you’re a better man than I.”

  “Why should I believe anything you’ve said? You’ve never shown me one ounce of compassion, of love.” Amar shook his head, wrestling with his mind, his conscience, his soul.

  “Of love?” his father asked. He tried to sit up but couldn’t muster the strength, so Amar came back over to help him sit against the pillows. When he did, his father held on to his arm and wouldn’t let him go.

  “I do love you, Amar. Believe that. I love you. Grant me this dying wish, and I promise you will see that I have always loved you.”

  Amar sat back, momentarily baffled as he stared into his father’s dark eyes that mirrored his own. What is he talking about? I will soon see what?

  His father touched his cheek. “I love you, son.”

  His words broke through Amar, and Amar said the words he’d never dare utter: “I love you too.” A small smile crossed his father’s features and with a heavy sigh, he sank into the pillows just as Amar said, “I forgive you.”

  Several minutes later, Amar found the rest of the family downstairs, and as soon as they saw his face, they knew.

  “He’s gone,” Khalid stated rather than asked.

  Amar nodded.

  Saffron wailed and Freya, Khalid’s wife, rushed over to sit with her while Tariq put his head in his hands and wept.

  “Then Tariq was right. He was waiting on you,” Khalid replied somberly.

  Amar didn’t say a word. He walked over to the wet bar and poured himself a Scotch, neat. He lifted the tumbler to his lips and let the fiery liquid burn in his throat.

  “Arrangements will need to be made,” he heard Khalid say. “I’ll start tending to them.”

  And without a word, Khalid walked out of the room. It had to be the first time Khalid hadn’t picked a fight with him, and Amar was grateful.

  He’d never expected his father to reveal so much in his final moments, and it had shaken Amar to his very core. He needed time to make sense of all he’d heard and all he’d said, but as he looked around the room and took in the grief, he knew now was not it. He may not be next in line as King, but he was the oldest and could help with their grief.

  He put down the Scotch and walked over to sit beside Tariq, who crumbled in his arms. “It’s okay, brother,” Amar said, hugging him tightly. “It’s going to be okay.”

  Rylee thought she would busy herself with unpacking while Amar spoke with his father, but no sooner than she’d gotten started, a knock sounded on her door. Two women were on the other side.

  “I am Karam,” one of the women stated. She was tall, slender, had a dark-olive complexion and wore a simple hijab over her dress. “And this is Basheera.” The other woman was petite and similarly attired. “She doesn’t speak good English, so I will speak on our behalf.” When Karam saw Rylee’s open suitcase on the bed, she colored. “We will assist you with anything you need during your stay. You need not unpack.”

  Rylee smiled. “Why, thank you, but it’s really not necessary. I can unpack myself.”

  “No,” Karam said. “You are Amar’s mistress. We must take care of you.”

  “Mistress?” There was that word again. It made her feel sleazy.

  She must have looked uneasy, because Karam came to her. “I have offended you and I’m sorry, but you and Amar are lovers, are you not?”

  Rylee nodded reluctantly. It was strange having her relationship acknowledged so commonly.

  “We will ensure you are ready for him when he returns. He will need you,” Karam advised. “We will draw a bath for you and bring you some hot tea and a sweet platter of baklava, basbousa and mugasgas. I imagine you must be hungry.”

  “I could eat a bite.”

  “Good. You rest on the bed while Basheera and I tidy.”

  Rylee hadn’t wanted to, but she doubted they would have taken no for an answer. They made quick work of putting away her belongings, and Rylee used the time to call home. She’d made quick calls to the family back at the ranch during each of her legs at JFK in New York and Dubai, but she needed to tell them she’d landed safely. She glanced at her watch. Amar had told her there was approximately a thirteen-hour time difference between here and Arizona, so it would be five AM in Tucson. She only knew one person who would be up at this hour.

  “Hello?” Noah answered on the other end of the line.

  “Noah.” Rylee was so happy to hear his voice.

  “Rylee? Is that you?”

  She could hear his relief. “Yes, it’s me.”

  “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

  “Yeah. I knew only one person who would be up at this hour,” Rylee replied. “You.”

  Noah chuckled and poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot that had been set to brew by Peggy the night before. “That’s true. How are you? How are they treating you over there? Do I need to come over there and kick some prince’s ass?”

  Rylee laughed. “No, you don’t. Everything’s fine. We made it to Nasir about an hour ago. Amar’s with his father now.”

  “Did he make it in time?”

  “Yeah,” Rylee nodded. “Thank God. I would have felt so guilty if he’d come back to the States for me and his father had died before he’d had a chance to say goodbye.”

  “It wouldn’t have been your fault.”

  “I know, but I’m glad all the same.”

  “How long do you think you’ll be staying?”

  “Not long. A few days, I would think. Amar and his family aren’t close.”

  “Sounds like it’s not a bed of roses.”

  “You could say that again. His family is as cold as ice, Noah. No wonder he likes spending time with our family.”

  “Well, he would be lucky if you chose him to be a part of it,” Noah replied.

  “You never know.”

  “Are you saying you might get hitched to that playboy?”

  “I thought you liked Amar.”

  “I respect Amar, but that doesn’t mean I think he’
s good enough for my baby sister.”

  “Would anyone be?”

  Noah laughed heartily. “No, I don’t suppose they would. You keep in touch, ya hear. And you don’t let those smug sons of bitches act like they are any better than you. Promise me.”

  “I promise.” A smile spread across Rylee’s lips as she hung up. A hearty dose of family was exactly what she needed to get through the next couple of days in this place.

  Karam came toward her. “Your bath is ready.” She led Rylee to a soaking hot tub. It smelled of shea, coconut and jojoba.

  “Thank you.” Rylee went to unbutton her shirt, but neither of the women moved a muscle. “I can take it from here, thank you.”

  Karam nodded and headed toward the door with Basheera. “We are nearby if you need us.”

  “Thank you, Karam.”

  Rylee soaked in the tub, sipped tea and ate a few desserts before toweling off and slipping into a plush cashmere robe Karam had left for her. She had just enough energy to lotion her skin before falling backward onto the pillows and taking a nap.

  The sound of a door opening and shutting woke her, and she sat up with a start. She must have slept longer than she thought because the room was dark with only moonlight creasing in from the balcony drapes. She could, however, make out Amar’s figure as he drew near to her on the bed.

  His shoulders were hunched over, and she knew in that moment that his father had passed away. He arrived beside her and sat down. She wasn’t sure what to do, but she didn’t have to do anything because Amar reached for her and pulled her into his arms. He hugged her to him tightly.

  “I’m sorry, Amar,” she crooned in his ear. “I’m so sorry.”

  She felt him shudder, and they hugged each other for what seemed like an eternity before she felt a pull on the robe she was wearing and a rush of cool air hit her. Amar’s hands slid around her, and he lowered her backward against the pillows.

  Rylee looked up at him. She didn’t know what to say. What could she say in a moment like this that wouldn’t seem trite and insignificant? So she didn’t speak. Instead she offered herself to him as a salve to his pain. She circled her arms around his neck and pulled him down on top of her. She felt his desire swell, and he kissed her with a crazed passion she’d never seen before. He was hungry for her and sucked, tasted and savored every inch of her mouth as if he couldn’t get enough of her. She knew he wanted to forget the pain, and she was a willing participant.

  Amar didn’t speak. He just opened her robe farther so his hands could caress her curves while he kissed and nuzzled the nape of her neck. He slid them down the slope of her breasts, cupping and molding her orbs. He squeezed her nipples, but his hands didn’t stop. They traveled lower to her abdomen and stomach before coming to her thighs. He greedily pushed them apart with one hand so his fingers could find her.

  He slid two fingers inside her, teasingly. Each touch stirred Rylee and intoxicated her, making her feel guilty that she could experience pleasure in this moment. Her womanhood’s swollen lips opened like a flower to his thrusting fingers, and she began to throb. She was on fire.

  She wanted his tongue. As if sensing her desire, he lowered himself on the bed and pulled her toward him until his mouth was at her womanhood. She felt his breath on her clitoris as he squeezed her buttocks and dove in. He tongued, licked, and sucked her until she hummed. She tried jerking to free herself, but his tongue just moved deeper inside her, flicking her clitoris as he savored her sex with his tongue and fingers.

  Rylee was overwhelmed, and she closed her eyes as her body began to twitch when a powerful orgasm rocked her. As the spasms shook her entire being, she looked up to see Amar hurriedly unzipping his jeans and pushing them to his ankles and ripping off his dishdāshah. She felt his weight as he joined her on the bed. His powerful thighs spread hers apart, and she felt the tip of his erection at her slick center seconds before he thrust inside her.

  She let out an encouraging moan as he dove deeper. “Oh …”

  Amar took her boldly, with confidence and skill. He penetrated her over and over, moving his hips like he was dancing a beat from the Islands.

  “Oh …,” she moaned as he pumped her hard and relentlessly. She cried out as her pleasure intensified, stroke after stroke. Rylee used her pelvis and squeezed her ankles around his butt to take him even further. She knew he needed this release and she would give it to him. She was his. Tonight. Tomorrow. Forever if he wanted her. She gripped his behind, and Amar let out a curse and shuddered as his orgasm exploded inside her.

  Chapter 16

  The next morning when Rylee awoke in a tangle of damp sheets, she found Amar was already up and sitting on the sofa in the living area, staring off into space. She wondered what he was thinking about. What had transpired between him and his father before he’d passed? Even after they’d made love last night, Amar had said nothing. He’d just held her.

  She sat up, not caring that the sheet had fallen away and that she was bare-chested. “Good morning.”

  Amar glanced up and saw her. “Good morning.” He rose and walked over to her. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked, staring into her eyes. “I was a little out of my mind last night and was a bit rough with you.”

  “You weren’t rough. A bit determined, yes, but not rough.”

  He nodded and sat down beside her. “I, uh, didn’t use a condom last night, so if you’re pregnant …”

  Rylee put her fingers to her lips. “We’ll figure it out,” she finished. As much as she should be concerned about their unprotected sex, she wasn’t. Even though they had only spent a few weeks together, Rylee knew that whatever happened, Amar would stand beside her.

  “I won’t be my father.”

  “I know.” She looked into his eyes. He seemed to want to say more, to tell her what had transpired between them, but he didn’t.

  “Good.” Amar rose and began pacing the floor. “Because I wouldn’t want you to think that I would abandon you.”

  “Amar!” Rylee rose from the bed, uncaring of her nakedness, and grabbed his hand. “It’s okay. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out. Let’s not think about that right now, okay? You have enough on your plate. Is there anything I can do?”

  Amar glanced down at her and smiled, just now realizing that she wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing. He bent down for the discarded robe from last night and wrapped it around her. “No, and there’s not much I can do either. Khalid pretty much has everything handled, except for some business matters.”

  “Alright.” Rylee slipped her hand into each arm of the robe. “What should I do then?”

  “Get dressed,” Amar said, wickedly glancing at one breast as she closed her robe. “We’ll have breakfast downstairs.”

  Amar wished he would have stayed in the guest quarters for breakfast, as his and Rylee’s appearance a half hour later in the formal dining room was met with hostility, except from Tariq.

  “Good morning,” Rylee said when they walked into the room.

  “Good morning, Rylee.” Tariq offered a blank smile.

  “How can you say it’s a good morning when our father is dead?” Khalid scolded.

  Rylee blanched, and Amar immediately went on the defensive. He could see Rylee wanted to leave. “Khalid, for Christ’s sake, it’s a pleasantry. Can’t you act the least bit hospitable?”

  Khalid started to say something, but at the murderous look on Amar’s face, thought better of it.

  Amar guided Rylee to two open seats at the table. Rylee was silent at his side. He felt terrible for the way Khalid had treated her, but he wasn’t sorry she was here. She’d been a godsend. His father was dead, and the only thing he’d wanted to do was curl up in a corner and block out the entire world.

  But last night, when he’d walked in and seen her bathed in moonli
ght, she’d been like a balm to his tortured soul and he’d sunk into her lushness. She’d freely offered herself to him even though she’d known he was using her to block out the pain. Rylee Hart was an amazing, selfless woman. He’d never met anyone like her and doubted he would ever again.

  He loved her. And when this was all over, he would tell her so. He would tell her that he’d fallen in love with her and wanted to spend the rest of his life waking up with her. He wouldn’t be a fool like his father and let the love of his life slip through his fingers for money or power.

  “Amar?”

  Amar glanced up. “Yes?”

  “We were discussing the service and who would give the eulogy,” Tariq said.

  “It should be me,” Khalid said. “I knew him best. Plus, it’ll reassure the people of Nasir that I’m in control and they’ve nothing to fear from outside factions.”

  “Control of what?” Ibrahim Haddad, their father’s lawyer, said from the doorway.

  Khalid frowned at him. “Of Nasir. What else? I’m next in line to be King, and the people need to know that there’s someone at the helm.”

  “That might be a bit premature,” Ibrahim responded.

  “What do you mean?” Khalid said with a dark tone.

  “He doesn’t mean anything,” Amar responded. “Why are you hostile to everyone that comes in the room? You’re not the only one who lost Father.”

  “Are you saying you did?” Khalid scoffed. “Like hell! Where have you been the last three decades? Not by father’s side, that’s for damn sure.”

  “In case I have to remind you, he was my father too!” Amar replied. “Long before he was yours. C’mon, Rylee.” He pulled Rylee’s chair back. “I think we’ll eat elsewhere.” He grabbed her by the hand and led her out of the room.

  Once they were no longer within earshot, Amar stopped midstride in the hall and apologized. “I’m sorry, baby. I shouldn’t have allowed you to come here into this den of vipers. If it wasn’t for Tariq, I wouldn’t even be here. I said my peace to Father. I should leave now.”

  Rylee touched his arm. “You told me your family was harsh, but I never imagined it was this bad.” She glanced back at the dining room. “I’m just going to have to develop a thicker skin while we’re here, because you can’t leave until after the service. And what about your father’s will? I imagine he has one, yes? Don’t you want to see if he left you anything?”