24. A Proposal
A Proposal
A Desperate Measures Bonus Short
Yasmina
I am so tired. The kind of exhaustion that settles in my bones to stay. It has nothing to do with the amount of sleep I achieve each night and everything to do with the sheer stress that comes from running a territory. From being a woman running a territory that’s had a man at the helm for decades.
I rub the bridge of my nose, careful not to touch my eyes and smudge my makeup. I’ve had to make examples of people. To do things that feed my nightmares the same way Ali’s death lingers in the darkest recesses of my soul.
I feel Jafar before I see him. It’s as if the very air in the room shifts to accommodate his presence. He’s always been like that, but the longer we’ve been together, the more attuned to him I become.
He stops behind me, and then his hands are on my shoulders, thumbs digging into the tight muscles there. “We’re done for the day.”
“I have one more meeting.” A video call with the newest territory head—Cordelia.
I feel a foolish sort of kinship with her, another daughter stepping into the larger-than-life shoes of her deceased father.
I won’t let that kinship muddy the waters when our territories share a border, but I can’t deny it.
“I can’t put it off. It’s Cordelia Belmonte. ”
“You’re right. You can’t put it off.” He finds a knot and digs his thumb in hard enough to buckle my knees and make me moan a little. “Do you need me?”
I smile. “Always.”
“Baby girl.”
I turn in his arms and slide my hands up his chest. “After this, I’m going to be too wound up to sleep.”
His lips curve. “That wasn’t even a subtle hint.”
“No, it wasn’t.” I press a quick kiss to his lips, barely resisting the urge to sink into it.
I don’t have time. There’s never enough time anymore.
Someone always needs something from me, and nights are my only relief, the only time I can let down my walls and just be me with Jafar.
The moment I walk through the doors of our suite and kick off my heels always feels like taking off a corset after wearing it for hours upon hours.
He sets me back and strokes his hands down my arms. “You have this under control. Cordelia isn’t in a position to press us, not when she has Ursa biting at her heels on the other side.”
“Jafar.” I wait for him to look at me. “I know. I have access to the same information you do.”
He laughs softly. “Sometimes it’s hard taking a back seat in these meetings and negotiations.”
“I can’t imagine why.” I arch my brows. “You aren’t staging another coup, are you?”
“When the last one went so well?” He takes my hand, his finger brushing my bare left ring finger.
He’s been patient, but in the last month or so, he’s been touching me there more and more often.
I suspect he’d want his ring on my finger no matter what, but after the unconventional offering in marriage I got from Abel Paine a few weeks ago, Jafar has been more subtly possessive. ? 1 “They won’t stop asking, you know.”
Of course his mind’s gone to the same place mine has.
I glance at the clock, but I still have a few minutes.
“Jafar, he literally gave me a pick of his six brothers to marry, sight unseen. That’s hardly a tempting offer.
” I step to him, pressing myself against his chest. “ No one is as tempting as you, Daddy.”
He sets his hands on my hips, but the troubled emotions don’t fade from his eyes. “I’ll wait as long as you need.” He urges me closer, rolling my hips against his hardening cock. “But some day, I want my ring on your finger, baby girl. I thought I could give it up, but that was before.”
I’m not really opposed to the idea. Once people stop looking at me and seeing weakness because of my gender, marrying Jafar will carry less risk of undermining my position.
I wish it wasn’t something I had to consider, wish our happiness didn’t rank lower than the lives of everyone in our territory, but life is full of hard choices. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” He turns me around and gives me a little nudge. “You’re going to be late.”
I don’t want to push pause on this conversation, but showing up late for this meeting isn’t an option. I barely make it to my chair in time to pull up the appropriate link and dial in.
Cordelia’s pretty face appears almost instantly, her dark hair pulled back and her expression serious. “Hello, Yasmina.”
“Cordelia.”
We verbally spar for a few moments and then get down to business, but half my mind lingers at how uneasy Jafar looked.
It wouldn’t be obvious to someone who didn’t know him well, but I’ve spent most of my adult life studying that man’s expressions, and I know his face almost as well as my own.
Something’s bothering him, and I can’t begin to guess if it’s the lack of marriage or something else entirely.
By the time I finish with the call with Cordelia, neither of us have made much in the way of promises.
We’re in an uneasy truce that I don’t trust her to honor any more than she trusts me.
I expect there will extra eyes on the border on both sides, but only time will prove that we’re as good as our word.
I know I am, but she’s even newer to this.
If she’s smart, she’ll focus on transitioning her people’s loyalty to her before she makes any big moves against her neighbors—and hopefully never makes big moves.
Peace between territories is profitable for everyone.
Most of Carver City’s territory leaders recognize that, but as the two newest ones, Cordelia and I are the ones who everyone is watching to see if we’ll rock the boat.
I have no intention of doing it. Cordelia claims the same.
We’ll see.
I stand and stretch. Jafar has long since disappeared, and I head out of my study and through the halls.
After much arguing, Jafar and I compromised by having men stationed on the main floor in key spots but leaving the second floor to us alone.
I see a few of them as I head to the stairs and nod in acknowledgment.
It’s hard to keep yourself regal and distant when your feet are screaming and your back hurts and there’s a headache starting behind one eye.
But then I’ve had months of practice at this point.
I don’t breathe easy until I close the door of our personal suite and lean against it.
One of the first things I did upon taking control of this house and this territory was to have one of the spare suites renovated to fit out needs.
Staying in my room felt too strange. Moving into my father’s suite? Unthinkable.
I actually moan as I kick off my heels. I love them. I do. But after long days, it’s more of a love-hate relationship.
“Baby girl.”
Just like that, the worst of my exhaustion slides right off me. I push off the door and move further into the suite. “Daddy, I’m home.”
His dark laugh comes from the direction of the bathroom.
Curious, I follow the sound and stop just inside the doorway.
This bathroom is one of my favorite parts of the house now.
It’s all done up in dark slate-gray tile and a massive claw-foot bathtub that is ridiculous and extravagant and I love with all my heart.
Right now, it’s filled with steaming water. “What’s all this?”
“You’ve had a long day.”
“Every day is a long day right now. For both of us.”
“Mmm.” Jafar crooks his finger at me. “Come here.”
I couldn’t disobey that quiet command if I wanted to, and I desperately don’t want to. I walk to him and slip my hand into his. He uses that touch to turn me to face away from him and then unzips my dress.
Jafar kisses my neck as he eases the fabric off my body. “Did you eat lunch today?”
“Yes, Daddy.” I smile a little. “Impossible not to when you ordered the chef to deliver it at noon, regardless of where I am or what I’m doing.
” Initially, I’d chafed at that little display of dominance, but it’s simply Jafar taking care of me.
If left to my own devices, we both know I’d work through lunch more often than I’d remember to eat it.
“Dinner?”
“Not yet.”
“Thought so.” He twists my hair up on top of my head and fastens it there. “In the bath. You need it.”
I really, really do need it, but I can’t help poking at him a little. “Are you saying I stink?”
“Baby girl, if you want to play the brat, this night is going to go significantly different than I’d planned.”
I almost push him further. I love it when my man snaps, when we play rough. But tonight? I don’t know if I’m up for it. “Yes, Daddy.” I manage to sound suitably meek. I think.
His low chuckle makes my entire body clench. “In.”
I climb into the tub. It’s built big enough for both of us, so I’m practically swimming in it. I lean my head back against the rim and watch him. “What do you have planned for us tonight?”
Jafar leans against the counter. He’s still wearing his black slacks and a pinstriped button-down shirt that looks particularly delicious.
But what really gets me is that he’s barefoot.
I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to the fact that this man is mine , that he lets down his walls around me and no one else.
It’s a shared privilege, but no less novel for it.
Finally, he moves, unbuttoning his shirt with little flicks of his fingers. It comes off and he drapes it over the back of the chair arranged next to the tub. His pants are next, and then he’s naked and moving to climb into the bath and settle behind me. His sigh tells me everything I need to know.
I shift to settle my head against his shoulder and wrap his arms around me. “It’s been a long day for both of us.”
“A long week.”
I smile. “A long month, quarter, year.”
Jafar chuckles. “Yes.” He gives me a squeeze.
Maybe I should leave things at that, but our earlier conversation still lingers. I turn and carefully straddle him. “I do want to marry you, you know.”