Chapter 16
Even from a distance, the sight of her mouth swollen from my kisses makes me want to move closer again, but I’m not an animal. I close my eyes for a moment to clear my mind.
“We shouldn’t have done that,” she says.
Somehow, hearing her take part of the responsibility for what happened makes me respect her. Most women would probably accuse me of forcing the situation.
“Maybe not, but I don’t regret it.”
Nervous, she steps back and stumbles, landing on the bed. “Neither do I,” she says, catching me completely off-guard.
“No?” It’s not easy to unsettle me, but Adeela manages to leave me speechless.
She shakes her head. “It was good,” she adds, looking down.
The simple admission brings back every ounce of desire I’ve been trying to suppress. Her boldness is unexpected and arousing.
“Look at me. Never lower your head when you’re speaking to me, Adeela.”
“I’m sorry, it’s a habit.” She rises from the bed and smooths the fabric of her dress as if by straightening it she can also fix what just happened. “I don’t want to be rude, but maybe you should go.”
“Not yet. We need to talk first. That’s why I came here in the first place.” I step back and sit down in an armchair while she remains standing. If I’m to think clearly, I can’t have her scent clouding my senses. “Tell me why you were crying.”
“I have to go back to Rheadur,” she says, as if that alone explains everything.
“Was that why you were crying?”
“No. It was the conversation with my father that made me cry.”
“What happened, Adeela?”
She hesitates but finally sits back down on the bed. “You already know why Jazmina and I wanted to come to Paris. What we didn’t tell you is that I never intended to return to our emirate.”
“What do you mean?”
“I wanted to find my mother in America. I haven’t seen her since I was a child, and I miss her terribly.”
“So, leaving Rheadur was your dream?”
“Not at all. At first, Jazmina and I planned to study in England. That’s why we performed that dance on the night your father turned eighty,” she says, blushing.
For a moment, we just look at each other, both lost in the same memory.
“Jazmina never told me she planned to take you with her to study in the UK.”
“Maybe because our dreams ended the day your brother rose to power. I mean, His Highness, Sheikh Naim.”
“Go on.”
“When we got to England, we planned to find a way to go from there to New York so I could finally see my mother again.”
“That’s where she lives?”
“I’m not sure. I only know she was born in that state, so I hoped she might have returned there.”
“And then my brother was named sheikh and your plans fell apart.”
“Exactly. But I didn’t give up. I came here so I could later flee to the United States.”
Despite the crazy plan of a sheltered girl trying to go to the U.S. alone, the way she says it is . . . damn endearing.
Adeela’s innocence is charming but dangerous in the world we live in. Na?ve and unprotected, she’d be easy prey for bad men.
“Would you have told me the truth, or were you planning to keep deceiving me?”
“Jazmina wanted to tell you everything, but I still didn’t know if I could trust you. I probably would’ve told you eventually,” she admits, once again proving how honest she is. “But that was before my father called. Now, nothing else matters.”
“What did he say to you, Adeela?”
Her hands twist together as she avoids my gaze, focusing on the window. “My mother is dying,” she says, her voice hoarse with emotion. “He knew and didn’t help her. He told me she has terminal cancer.”
Memories I don’t like to revisit come back like an avalanche. Her mother suffers from the same cursed disease that took mine.
“My father said that if I return to Rheadur and marry that man, he’ll pay for all my mother’s medical expenses and make sure she dies with dignity. He also said he’d let me see her one last time.”
If I hadn’t heard it from her own mouth, I wouldn’t believe it.
What kind of sick bastard uses a mother’s illness to blackmail his daughter?
“And what did you say?”
“The only thing I could: that I’d obey him if he took care of my mother. Giving her one last kiss is better than never seeing her again. My heart bleeds just thinking that she’s dying alone without knowing how much I love her.”
“Do you remember her? What you used to do together?”
“Not much, honestly. When my mother left, I had a nanny, Faiza, who later married my father. She knew my mother well and helped me remember her, telling me how her hair shone just like mine. Another thing we share is our love for butterflies,” she says, showing me a thin bracelet with a small butterfly charm.
“Did he give you a deadline to return?”
“He said he wants to see me in Rheadur tomorrow, before nightfall. Which means I should leave at dawn.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“You won’t marry because of blackmail. Especially not someone who would hurt you.”
“Jazmina told you?”
I nod, furious just imagining her defenseless in some bastard’s hands.
“This isn’t just blackmail, Kaled,” she says, standing abruptly. “My mother’s life depends on it.”
“You’re not going anywhere. I won’t allow you to submit to anyone against your will. Give me until tomorrow night. I’ll find a solution.”
When I rise from the armchair, a million thoughts collide in my head. All I need to do is organize them, because somewhere deep inside, I already know the solution, one that could benefit us both.
“I need your mother’s full name.”
“What for?”
“Trust me.”
She walks to the bedside table and picks up what looks like a diary.
Do girls still write their secrets on paper?
“Daisy Ellis,” she says, even after writing the name down on a sheet of paper.
When she extends her hand to give it to me, I grab her wrist. “Give me your word that you won’t go anywhere.”
Her lower lip trembles. “You don’t understand. I couldn’t live with myself if she dies abandoned and in pain, Kaled.”
“That won’t happen. Now tell me you won’t go back to Rheadur alone. If you let your father arrange that marriage, I won’t be able to help you anymore. And in Rheadur, without me, you’ll be at his mercy.”
“Why are you helping me?”
“I can’t tell you yet. You’ll have to trust me.”
She pulls away and takes a step back. “All right. I promise to wait so we can talk tomorrow.”