by Sophia Lynn
“That's not an answer,” she said. “Where the hell are you going that you need a bulletproof vest?”
“This is none of your concern,” he began, but she looked up at him, indignant.
“That's not something that you get to tell me,” she retorted. “Not after…not after all that.”
“You will be taken care of,” he said, and for some reason, her blood boiled over at the idea that that was what he was worried about. “I have made arrangements…”
“I don't care about that,” Emily burst out.
She was out of bed, and throwing herself at him, wrapping her arms around him. She knew that if he wanted to, he could simply uncoil her from him as if she were a limpet, but at the moment, she could only cling tightly to him. A part of her wondered if this was Stockholm syndrome, but she didn't care. The panic she felt about Adnan possibly going into danger was real, and it took her breath away.
“I don't care about that,” she repeated. “I don't want you to get hurt.”
He stiffened when she came to him, but then he relaxed, holding her gently in his arms. There was something different about him today, but she couldn't really understand what.
“I was born in Nahr,” he said conversationally. “I have lived all over the world, but Nahr is my home, my heart. I like to call myself a very modern man, but there are some times when I feel that tradition is best.”
“What do you mean?” she asked. Emily realized with a strange horror that she was startlingly close to tears. She palmed them away and glanced up at him. The look on his face was unexpectedly soft.
“When a man of Nahr goes into battle, whether he is a foot soldier or a sheikh, it is his duty to say farewell to his wife. This is an old tradition, one that goes back hundreds of years. There is no ceremony, though, no passing of household authority, nothing like that. People have done it different ways over the years, but the point is the same. The husband tells his wife that he will be away for a little while, and the wife merely says ‘hurry home.’”
Emily blinked up at him.
“That's it?” she asked. “Even when he's going out to battle?”
“Yes. Even when the campaign might carry him hundreds of miles from home. Even when they know that it might be years before he returns. She tells him to hurry home, she smiles, and he leaves.”
Emily shook her head dubiously.
“I don't understand…”
“I have always thought that it was very important. They are not hiding from the truth of what is going on. Many of those husbands never returned at all. Many of them died in foreign lands, died trying to return to a home that would always be looking for them. But for as long as they could be, they were at home. They shared the life that they lived with their wives, and both parties understood that this was a part of the life they had chosen together.”
He paused. Emily wondered what he was struggling with.
“Will you say farewell to me like that?”
She didn't understand why he was asking this of her. She didn't understand what was happening, where he was going, what was going on. However, he had asked her, and she knew that she would never deny him this.
When he pressed her back to stand on her own two feet, she was steady. For a moment, she felt dizzy at the long history of Nahr wives who had stood where she had, who had looked at the men they loved and realized that they might never see their beloved faces again. Somehow, she was able to draw her strength from theirs. She stood straight and tall, looking up at Adnan. In that moment, she thought that he had never looked so handsome.
He finished dressing, his hands sure and steady on his clothing. In the end, he looked like a rich man in good clothes; she never would have guessed at the bulletproof vest or the gun holstered under his jacket.
“Well, little beauty, it has come about that I must be away for some little while.”
Emily took a deep breath, looking up at him. She tried to put everything she couldn't say into her eyes, but when she spoke, her words were calm and sure.
“Hurry home, then. I'll miss you while you're gone.”
The smile he gave her was brief but real, and he pulled her closer, kissing her gently on the top of her head.
“Thank you,” he murmured, and then he was gone.
In the wake of his departure, Emily sat back on the bed. After a moment, she wrapped her arms around his pillow, hugging it close. It still smelled like him, and for a moment, tears almost overcame her.
Why am I doing this? Emily wondered. Why am I so heartbroken over a man who literally bought me?
No matter what way she came at it, there was no reason for her to be so attached to her attacker, unless it was the fear of being given to someone much worse. However, no matter which way she came at it, it wasn't just self-centered. She knew that there was something inside her, something that cried out for him.
She could understand it, she thought, the ritual of saying goodbye as if they would of course see each other again in a few hours. At the very least, it had prevented her from breaking down like she almost had.
Emily wiped her tears away furiously.
I should be glad he's gone, she thought mutinously, but she couldn't hold it up for very long. Instead, as she looked through the barred windows, she saw the sun rising, bathing the town outside with a strangely benevolent golden light.
Keep him safe, she prayed. She didn't know who she was praying to, but in the end, she decided that it didn't matter as long as he stayed safe.
***
In his car on the way to the Razorback's stronghold, Adnan found it beyond difficult to keep his head where it needed to be. No matter what, his thoughts turned to Emily and her clear gray eyes, looking up at him as if terrified.
I will come back to you, he swore silently. Nothing will keep me from you.
Roja frowned at him.
“If you cannot stay focused, we should not do this at all,” he growled. He was dressed up as a bodyguard, and his duty was solely to protect Adnan in this raid. He triple checked the gun at his side, one of many that he kept on himself at all times.
“My focus is just fine,” Adnan said shortly, but then he likely gave the lie to that statement when he hesitated. “The woman in the hotel room…If I do not return, or even if I do not return right away…find out who she is and get her home.”
Roja snorted. “Do it yourself if you are so worried. Get your mind off her.”
Adnan knew that his friend was right. Going into a situation as fraught as this one with his mind elsewhere would be dangerous not only for himself but for everyone around him. Still, he could not stop himself from thinking one last time of Emily. Her sorrow, her passion, the sweetness of her mouth and the heat of her desire.
Soon, he promised, and then the car stopped.
Chapter Eight
Emily fell asleep at some point. She hadn't stayed in bed. It felt too lonely to be in the place where he had given her such pleasure, too frightening to be there alone as the shadows shortened then lengthened again as morning moved into afternoon.
Instead, she moved to the living room, trying to read and failing utterly. She knew she should eat, but the moment she thought about food, her belly rebelled. Instead, Emily curled up on the couch, her fingers wishing that she had her guitar in front of her. At least if she could make music, she would have some company in the quiet room.
Instead, she simply sat and tried to keep her mind off of Adnan and what he was doing, what danger he could possibly be in where he needed a gun.
She would never have thought that she would be able to sleep in this condition, but somehow, between a frantic worry that ate at her mind and a fear that threatened to drive her mad, she did.
She awoke to find the hotel room bathed in darkness and the sound of boisterous men in the hall.
That's a surprise, she thought, reaching to turn on the light. It's been close to silence since I’ve been here.
The noise got louder, and then before she could
figure out how she wanted to react, the door slammed open. For a moment, she was stiff with terror, but when she realized that two men had Adnan's arms around their shoulders and his bulk slung between them, she lost all caution.
“Oh my god, Adnan,” she cried, rushing to him. Surely he was too limp. Had he been hurt?
“Ah, the little beauty!” he said, and there was a slurring to his words that made her pull back.
“Put him on the couch,” one of the men said shortly. “He's too damn heavy to carry further.”
For some reason, Adnan seemed to think that that was hilarious, protesting that he could walk. When he straightened, he tugged the two men holding him along, and they restrained him only with difficulty. When he landed on the couch, he seemed content to stay there, his head lolling back. The one who had spoken before shook his head before turning to Emily.
“He demanded that we bring him here. The medic on site cleared him after patching him up and giving him a painkiller, but at this point, we are very pleased to make him your problem.”
“My problem…” said Emily helplessly. “Who are you? For that matter, who is he?”
The man who had been speaking looked at her with a frown.
“The men in front of you—some of us are military, some of us are Nahr's secret service. The man who made today's operation a success while also making it about as dangerous as it could be to himself, is Adnan ibn Arif al-Mahsi, sheikh of Nahr.”
Emily was certain that she looked as appalled as she felt, but the men in question had apparently had as much of Adnan as they wanted to deal with for the moment. With the reassurance that they were leaving two guards outside the door, they left, off to do some apparently well-deserved carousing. Which left her alone with…
When she turned around in the sudden quiet, Emily realized that Adnan was watching her with a smile on his face.
“Well then, Sheikh Adnan,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself, “you came back.”
He grinned at her, gesturing her closer. When she went, he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her hips. Despite the painkiller, he moved almost as quickly as he ever had, with a speed that would have been disconcerting if she felt any threat from him at all.
“I have returned to you, beautiful little one,” he said, his tone extravagant. “Are you pleased to see me?”
“I am,” she said, not bothering to hide the relief in her voice. “Will you tell me what you were doing today, finally?”
He shrugged, and for a moment, she was taken by the breadth and strength of his shoulders. He was a powerful man, it seemed, in every sense of the word.
“Razorback. A slaver. We knew we could lure him out. After he thought I could be trusted with one girl, he was willing to show me others.”
Emily's eyes widened as she realized what he meant. She hadn't actually been bought? It had been a trick of some kind?
“Adnan…”
“I would have bought you,” he said, gazing up at her, a strange light in his eyes.
“What do you mean?” she asked, startled.
“If I had seen you. Like the sheikhs of old. Saw you in a slaver's caravan, I would have seen your hair, and then your eyes, and then…and then you probably would have opened that sweet mouth to bite me…and I would have been lost.”
Emily started to make a rather tart response to that, but then he leaned back, dragging her down on top of him.
“I was afraid,” he said quietly. “I was afraid that there was a chance I would never see you again.”
“I haven't gone anywhere,” she said, slightly nonsensically.
In that moment, all she could do was look into his eyes. They were so dark that they might as well have been black. Perhaps some time ago, she might have thought that would make a man seem cold, but now it only made her feel as if she were drowning in him, as if she could fall into him and never be seen again.
The ghost of a smile whisked across his face. “Good,” he whispered.
She felt his large hand cup the back of her skull, bringing her close. It felt like something important, like a bridge built between two souls who were nothing but different. Willingly, she bent her head down to kiss him. There was a strange solemnity to it, and it made her think of pagan marriage ceremonies, where there was no officiant but silence, no community but each other.
After a moment, however, she felt the lightest touch of his tongue on her lips, gentle, sweet, and inquisitive. He was ready to hear a no, and that was why it was so easy for her to give him a yes. Of her own will, she deepened the kiss, opening her mouth so that he could slide his tongue inside. She expected a nearly violent desire, something that would break over her like a thunderstorm. Instead this was soft and sweet, something with a powerful fire, but restrained.
After a moment of hesitation, Emily gave herself up to the kiss, resting her body against his…and that was when she felt the bandage.
“Oh god, you're hurt!” she exclaimed, leaping back. He reached for her but missed, and that alone told her how much they had drugged him.
“A scratch and nothing more,” he said magnanimously. “The damned doctor refused to listen when I told him that there were others who needed his aid far more than I did.”
Emily snorted. “I have known plenty of men who would say similar things, and I know that they think that they can walk off broken legs.”
He started to answer, but then her hands were on his shirt buttons, undoing them with a sure speed. She might have been a virgin, but when it came to injuries, there was no time for shyness.
“I could get used to this,” he said with a grin, but she was already looking at the large wad of gauze taped securely to his shoulder.
“Were you shot?” she asked, her voice soft and horrified. She was relieved when he shook his head, but his next words removed that relief entirely.
“No. Big bastard came at me with a knife. I turned right into it—he was going to stab me in the back.”
Emily wanted to cover her face with her hands. It was too horrible to be real, but all too easy to imagine. The dark figure coming up behind Adnan, his sudden spin which saved his life but gave him this wound.
“You should be resting,” she murmured, and he shrugged. Despite his good humor, however, she could tell that he was slower than he should have been, far less alert. Whatever was going to happen between them, it could not happen now.
“Time to rest when I am dead,” he said, but at least he didn't fight her when she led him to the bedroom. If Emily were being honest with herself, she would have had literally no options if he had decided to fight her.
He watched her with a grin as she took off his shirt, leaving him bare chested. Then she paused, unsure of how to proceed.
“You will be more comfortable in nothing at all, I think,” she stated, and his grin, despite the haze of the painkillers, became slightly more predatory.
“You're welcome to remove whatever you like,” he said. “I certainly won't stop you.”
A rational woman might have told him that that was fine—he would simply be sleeping in his pants that evening. When she had come so close to losing him, however, she wasn't sure that she could bear to say that.
Emily knew it wasn't just that. When she went to remove his shoes and socks before tugging his pants down, she could feel her hands shake. With every inch of bronze skin she revealed, Emily wanted more. Finally, when he was stripped down to his silk boxers, she forced herself to back away.
“There,” she said, aware that her face was pink with far more than exertion. “Now lie down.”
He quirked an eyebrow at her, and it was painfully obvious that even in his weakened state, there was no way for her to force him at all.
“Only if you lie down with me,” he retorted, and she bit her lip.
“If I lie down with you, do you promise to try to sleep?” she asked. “And it's…not…not just a ploy to…”
“Ravish your innocence?” he asked. “I have thought abo
ut it…a great deal, but no. If you lie down next to me, I will, in good faith, try to get some rest.”
That seemed rational enough, and Emily was just crawling into bed when he spoke again.
“Provided, of course, that you get undressed as well. I am sorry, I would undress you myself…”
“That's quite enough,” she said, and for a moment, she simply looked at him. Just twenty-four hours ago, she would have felt a thrill of danger go through her. She had known this man for such a short amount of time. She would have said that there was no way for her to feel as safe with him as she did but…
But she did. She did feel safe with him, and that was why, never breaking eye contact with him, she started to strip. His dark eyes went wide when her white dress dropped down to the floor, and then, with as matter-of-fact a grace as she could muster, she undid her bra. She stood in front of him in nothing but her panties, resisting the urge to cover her soft, round breasts with her hands. Instead, she lifted her chin at him, forcing herself to speak calmly and clearly.
“Well?” she asked. “Are you ready to keep up your end of the bargain?”
His dark eyes slid along her curves. Adnan all but licked his lips, but he nodded.
“God in heaven, you drive a hard bargain, but yes. Yes, we should sleep now. Come here.”
The humor had gone out of his voice, and when she came to lie down beside him, he sighed with pleasure and turned to cuddle her. It was as if they had been sharing a bed for years. She relished the weight of his arm over her waist, the warmth of his breath against her ear.
“Good night, Adnan,” she whispered, and when he didn’t answer her, she knew that he was asleep.
He’s safe, he’s safe, she thought, like a prayer, and exhausted by her own worry, she drifted off as well.
Emily was aware of an overwhelming feeling of warmth as she swam upwards into consciousness. Somehow, in the floating moments before she opened her eyes, she knew that she was safe. There was nothing in the world that could hurt her in this moment.
She blinked sleepily, and when she could focus, her gaze was full of Adnan, propped up on one elbow and looking down at her.