Chapter 15
At the same time Adeela speaks to her father
“Peace be upon you, Father,” I greet him as soon as he answers.
“Kaled, my beloved son, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you today.”
“Yes, I know, but I’ve made a decision, and I couldn’t wait to tell you.”
“What decision?”
I can feel the tension in his voice.
“The deadline for Naim’s return ends in a few weeks. If he doesn’t show up by then, I’ll assume the role of sheikh of the emirate.”
“I never doubted that you’d rise to your responsibilities, my son.”
“It’s not only out of duty that I’m accepting your command. I want to do it, to govern our people and make Rheadur a nation our citizens can be proud of again.”
He sighs. “I know it was never what you wanted, but sometimes destiny orchestrates events, fitting together pieces that once seemed out of place.”
“I haven’t given up on finding your son.”
“I know, Kaled. But I also know Naim won’t return. I’ve hired dozens of detectives around the world, and every trail has gone cold. Perhaps the wrongs he committed have finally caught up with him.”
Though we’ve always shared the same thoughts, this is the first time my father has spoken so plainly about his eldest son. Until now, Naim’s failures were like the elephant in the room, visible to all but ignored by most.
Not by me. I’ve always despised him, even if he shares my blood.
“It pains me to say this, but I made a mistake in following the law so strictly,” he continues.
“There was nothing you could’ve done. Naim is the firstborn. The title was his by right.”
“Yes, but your brother was never fit to be sheikh.”
“And I am?” I ask, because I’ve asked myself that question many times.
“You’ve always been a leader, Kaled. A strong, honorable man. No one becomes a ruler. You were born one, whether your kingdom is a business or a nation. I’ve never doubted that you would lead Rheadur better than Naim ever could.”
“I’ll return, Father. When the time comes, I’ll go home and fulfill my duty.”
Minutes later
She still hasn’t come downstairs.
It’s been more than thirty minutes since I ended the call with my father, and Adeela still hasn’t come to see me.
That’s not like her. It doesn’t fit what I know of her nature, so I decide to cast aside propriety and head to her room.
I knock. No answer.
Asleep?
“Adeela?”
“A minute,” comes her reply.
She takes longer than that, and when she finally opens the door, to my surprise, she steps aside to let me in, then walks straight to the window.
Pretending not to notice her strange behavior, I watch as she stares out at the night.
Her hair is loose, and just as I imagined, the heavy black waves gleam like silk, falling almost to her waist. I have to fight the urge to touch them.
“The view from here is beautiful,” she says without turning around. Her voice sounds nasal, thick.
“Yes, it is. This apartment wasn’t even for sale, but I came to a party here once and decided I wanted to wake up to that view of the Champ de Mars and the Eiffel Tower every time I stayed in Paris.”
She nods.
“You didn’t come down,” I say, keeping my tone neutral.
“I didn’t mean to offend you, but the call with my father . . .” Her words trail off, and I see her shoulders shake.
She’s crying.
I move closer and turn her to face me, not caring whether it’s the right thing to do. I need to see her, and she doesn’t seem willing to let me.
Her eyes are red, and tears stream down her cheeks.
I’m not exactly a sensitive man, but no one could stay indifferent to her pain.
Whatever Arif said to her, it broke something deep inside.
“Look at me, Adeela. If this is about the arrangement your father made with your so-called fiancé, don’t cry. I won’t let them force you into marriage.”
One of my hands, no longer obeying my brain, slides from her shoulder to her face, my thumb catching a tear.
She doesn’t stop crying, so I pull her into my arms.
It’s meant to be brief, a soft touch intended to comfort her. But the instant our bodies meet, tension crackles between us so fiercely we both step back.
Those glorious eyes meet mine, confused.
She may not know what she wants, but I do.
To feel that again. To discover what kind of spell has set my veins on fire.
This time, I pull her back intentionally, and what drives me insane is that, despite how she was raised, she lets me hold her.
I forget why I came here in the first place. Her tears are gone now.
Our breaths hang suspended, and our bodies, completely detached from reason, wait for what comes next.
My fingers travel through the silk of her hair, caressing her scalp. She tilts her head back.
Her eyes are half-closed, her long lashes hiding them from me.
I brush my lips against her chin, but it’s not enough. I part my lips, tasting her satin skin.
She trembles but doesn’t pull away.
I can feel the hard peaks of her breasts against my chest.
Whatever restraint I have left keeps me from touching them, but I can’t stop myself from wanting that mouth.
I lean in slowly, afraid she’ll tell me to stop.
I don’t want to stop. I need to feel her.
My heart pounds like a drumbeat, loud, relentless. I’ve never felt anything like this: a hunger so intense it’s almost painful. It only quiets when, finally, my mouth finds hers.
At the first touch, Adeela lets out a soft, startled moan, and I surrender to the need.
Her lips are warm and wet, and maybe I should keep the kiss gentle, but when they part slightly, I can’t resist sliding my tongue inside.
She gasps and clutches my arms, not to push me away, but to hold on.
“I’ve never . . .” she whispers.
“I know I’ll be your first. Let me kiss you, qalbi[29].”
I’m not a tender man, and I didn’t plan to call her my heart. The words just escaped, but they’re exactly what she needs to hear, because now her body melts into mine, her arms winding around my neck.
Delicious. Yielding.
I deepen the kiss, coaxing her to open to me, swallowing her sighs and moans.
Each sound drives me wilder, feeding an uncontrollable hunger.
I’ve never been with a woman who kissed like this. So full of raw passion.
She gives herself completely, her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me closer.
I want to strip her bare, to taste every inch of her soft skin. To lick and bite. To make her cry out as she comes in my mouth.
Needing the friction of her body, I pull her tight against my erection.
A second later, when she pushes me away, breathless, I realize I’ve gone too far.