Chapter 12
I can’t say many things in life manage to surprise me, but hearing Jazmina mention that Adeela didn’t have any lingerie in her suitcase left me completely speechless.
In compensation, my imagination ran wild.
Yes, I know I shouldn’t let thoughts involving Adeela and lingerie occupy the same sentence, but in my defense, I was caught off-guard by my sister’s bluntness.
I’d forgotten that the moment she sets foot in Europe, her personality shifts, like some kind of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde in heels.
She has no filter and apparently assumes I see her friend the same way she does: as a little sister.
The problem is, there’s nothing remotely fraternal about the desire that girl stirs in me, and judging by the way her hand trembled in mine, it’s mutual.
I’ve always been the kind of man who prefers experienced women, those who know what they want. Virgins never appealed to me, not just because I never intended to marry.
I’ve always avoided the very young ones, usually going for women five or six years younger than me. So why does Adeela, who is not only a virgin but also seems shy, make my blood boil?
Maybe it’s the fire I see burning in those dark eyes. Or maybe it’s the memory of her body moving sensually during that dance, a mental tattoo I can’t erase, a looped video that plays in my head whether I want it to or not.
The truth is, after I ordered an entire store closed so the two of them could buy whatever they wanted, and pretended to make phone calls to give them privacy, I spent two hours imagining that stunning woman inside a fitting room, trying on panties and bras.
Just thinking about it now turns me on.
Damn it.
These are going to be the longest three weeks of my life.
But then I remember that when those weeks are over, I might lose my freedom forever, and the arousal disappears like magic.
Freedom for what? a voice mocks. To add more Ingrids to your list?
It’s been a while since I’ve felt any excitement about chasing new conquests. The names and faces change, but the relationships are always the same.
The thrill of a new encounter, one built purely on desire, has lost its appeal, because after the first night, I already know every step that follows leads straight to the end.
I hear movement behind me and see Jazmina entering the room, Adeela right behind her.
I notice they got off the plane wearing hijabs and not chadors, as Naim had decreed. Personally, I don’t care. They should have the right to choose whether to cover their hair or not, like it was before my brother became sheikh.
As always, my sister wears her hair loose down her back, but her friend hasn’t dared to remove her scarf. Both wear light spring dresses, modest by European standards.
“I forgot my purse,” my sister says, but I barely register her leaving, completely hypnotized by the girl who fascinates me.
“Good evening, Your—”
“Kaled,” I correct.
“Good evening, Kaled.”
One step closer. Then another.
I slip my hands into my pockets, because the urge to touch her is overwhelming.
I’ve never felt so torn between two worlds as I do now, standing in front of the woman I want but can’t have.
“Did you get everything you needed at the store?”
Yes, that was cruel. I knew she would blush at the question, and I asked it anyway.
Adeela seems so modest and innocent, seemingly unaware of how deeply her presence affects me, and I wanted to shake her composure just a little.
“You shouldn’t talk about lingerie with me,” she protests, and I almost smile at the glimpse of claws behind the shyness.
“I didn’t say anything about lingerie. You’re the one who brought it up.”
“But you asked about the store and . . .” The color in her cheeks deepens.
“Yes, about the store. Not lingerie.” I hide a smile.
Then guilt hits me. It’s not fair to tease her with games she doesn’t know how to play. Adeela is far too innocent for my world.
“You look beautiful,” I say, trying to undo the damage.
“Thank you. The dress is actually your sister’s. I didn’t know where we were going and didn’t want to embarrass you.”
“You don’t have your own clothes?”
She shakes her head, looking intimidated, and I mentally curse myself. I didn’t mean to embarrass her, but I can’t explain why it bothers me so much to see her wearing someone else’s clothes, even if that someone is my sister.
“You’ll be here for three weeks. I’ll tell Jazmina to pick the stores you want to visit, and I’ll have them closed for your private shopping. Buy whatever you like.”
She shakes her head. “It wouldn’t be appropriate for me to accept your gifts. You’re not a relative.”
She’s right. Completely right. It wouldn’t.
But considering all the other inappropriate thoughts I’ve already had about her, what difference does one more make?
“I’d like to please you. I’d be offended if you refused.”
My sister’s return cuts off what would probably have been another protest. “Did I hear the word ‘shopping’? Don’t even think of saying no, Adeela.
I already know which stores I want to go to.
You look stunning in that dress, but we have plenty of plans ahead, and you’ll need variety.
European high society pays close attention to who wears what.
In fact, I think you should take off the hijab and see how you feel without it. What do you think, Kaled?”
I know exactly what she’s doing. Jazmina doesn’t really want my opinion; she wants Adeela to feel like she has my approval, as her future ruler.
From what I’ve seen so far, Adeela’s repressed. Even more than most older women back home.
“She should do whatever she wants. Wear the scarf if you wish. Take it off if you’d like to see how it feels to be uncovered.” I’m granting her the freedom to choose, but it’s hard to fight the urge to reach out and pull it off myself.
Her hands lift, and I wait in anticipation. But then she lowers them again.
“Maybe next time. I’m not feeling that brave today.”