Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Myles
T he private terrace is quiet, lit by early morning sun glinting from the metal lanterns. A faint hum of noise comes from the nearby square, and I remember Zara’s face, how excited she’d looked when she was asking about it yesterday.
She’s all I can think about.
I sat here alone last night, eating my excellent meal, thinking about how, just two nights ago, she’d been sitting across from me.
She might have been here again if I hadn’t ruined everything.
I miss her smile, the way she laughs, the way she challenges me and keeps me guessing.
She’d surprised me again, yesterday, speaking Arabic to the man who’d approached her outside the hotel.
I shake my head, thinking of how quickly I’d come running, like a knight protecting his lady.
She doesn’t need my protection. But it’s hers, whenever she wants.
Even getting into bed had led to thoughts of her, how she’d blushed when asked about it. And how I wanted her to be next to me, under me, on top of me, how I wanted to kiss her in the darkness along the length of her throat, wanted to fuck her, over and over, her body open to mine.
There’s a knock at the terrace gate and I look up, my heart leaping. I open the gate, hoping against hope. But it’s a young woman with a trolley, a selection of trays on it.
“Good morning, Mr Brandon.” She smiles at me. She’s very pretty. In the past I might have accepted the invitation I can see in her eyes. But I don’t want her. I don’t want anyone, except Zara.
“Morning.” I step back to let her pass.
She starts laying the trays out on the table, with a place setting. For one. Fuck it. I’m tired of eating alone.
“Is breakfast being served downstairs?” It’s early, but hopefully not too early.
“It is,” she replies, her eyes wide. “But, I have it here for you. Anything you want.” She lifts one silk-clad shoulder. Again, an invitation, subtle but definitely there.
“Thank you. But I think I might go downstairs. Is there a table?”
“It’s already quite full.” She looks worried. “But I can ring down and get you one.”
“That’s fine.” I’m all at once eager to be down there, as though I’m being pulled by an invisible string. “I’ll figure it out.”
I let the gate swing shut behind me, heading along the narrow walkway and taking the stairs two at a time, my anticipation building. When I reach ground level I slow down, taking my time.
Breakfast is being served from one of the restaurants bordering the courtyard.
Tiled tables with padded chairs sit along the pillared walkway, nestled among towering palms and lush bougainvillea, birds darting between the leaves.
A ginger cat wanders between the chairs, pausing to have his ears scratched by one person, then another.
The young woman was right about it being busy, and most of the tables are full. My plan is to take one and wait until Zara shows up, then ask her to have breakfast with me. No strings, just a meal together.
I walk between the tables, scanning the occupants discreetly. There’s a table for two free against the wall, next to a tiled water fountain set into the plaster, a remnant of the palace that was once here. I figure it’s as good a place as any to wait.
Then I see her.
Zara is sitting at a table between two pillars, surrounded by palms, a shaft of sunlight highlighting her hair so it’s as glossy as a chestnut.
She’s wearing the black skirt and embroidered blouse she wore the day we went to see the rug trader in Taghazout, her sandalled feet crossed at the ankles.
There’s a cup of coffee in front of her, and she’s reading.
I grin when I see the book she’s reading, my heart warming at the sight of her calm beauty. She feels like home, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to go and sit with her. But I pause. It may feel that way to me, but how will it feel to her?
But then, as though she can feel me watching, she lifts her head. Her brown gaze meets mine and her lips part, slightly. She blinks, then closes her book, putting it on the table. Her movements are calm, deliberate, but there’s tension in her shoulders.
“Myles? Do you need me?”
Yes, I fucking need you. I need you like I need oxygen, like I need the blood in my veins. Once again the intensity of my feelings surprises me, my heart seeming to swell in my chest.
“I don’t want to intrude.” Then I stop, not sure how to proceed. I can’t bear it if she rejects me again. She has turned my world upside down, and I am adrift.
“Have you eaten?” Her voice is soft, but there’s a tremor in it. “I was just about to get something, if you’d like to join me?”
“That sounds nice,” I say, coming to the table and taking a seat. My words are sensible, in no way a reflection of the turmoil inside me, or the way she makes me feel as though she’s my lifeline, as though I’m tied to her, my island of safety in a vast sea.
We stare at each other, then my gaze goes to the book on the table. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your reading,” I say. “I’d hate to stop you learning more about the stock market.”
She giggles, the dimple appearing in her cheek. “Well, yes,” she says. “It’s fascinating stuff. Especially the bit about international trading. But I suppose I can come back to it later.”
“If you’re sure.” I return her smile, feeling as though I could sit here for ever and watch the light play across her face.
God, I have never felt such yearning for another person.
She’s across the table from me but I can’t touch her, as though she’s behind glass.
I want to smash through it and take her, make her my own.
“So, shall we order?” I need to do something, say something, before I give in to my impulses.
She gets to her feet. “It’s a buffet.” She sounds uncertain, her voice rising at the end. Of course, I hadn’t realised. Diners are coming in and out of the long French doors, some of them carrying plates piled high with food.
“I’ll come with you,” I say. “ The Prince’s Kiss can hold the table for us.”
“He’s very good at that.”
I notice she’s keeping space between us, moving away whenever I get close to her. It’s a subtle thing but, attuned to her as I am, I notice it. It’s as though we’re in a dance, each of us in our own space, apart even though we’re together.
Still, it’s better than it was. I wonder whether she’s had a chance to figure anything out yet. Christ knows I haven’t, apart from the fact that I want her.
It will have to do, for now.