Page 36 of At the Sheikh's Bidding
He tossed her abaya onto the chair and deposited the tray of refreshments onto the table. “I bring you food, my Goddess,” he said.
She laughed. “Like a libation.”
He grimaced. “The kind of libation which isn’t thrown onto the ground, but eaten and drunk.” He passed her a coffee and a slice of almond cake and yoghurt.
“Ah, now that’s the kind of libation and worship I like.”
He slid under the covers beside her and kissed her. He was dying to toss off the duvet and explore her sensational breasts all over again, but there would be time for that later. He hoped. Now was the time for talking, he reminded himself. Unfortunately, his cock hadn’t got the message, and he raised his leg to hide the evidence before she could notice.
He took a sip of coffee and watched her enjoy the cake. Only when she’d finished did he place his cup onto the bedside table and take her hand.
“So,habibti, what is it you’re so afraid of? Huh? Because I know there’s something going on deep inside of you, some hurt, some pain you’ve been covering your whole life,runningfrom your whole life. And it’s time you stopped running. Time you told me what the hell happened to make you feel this way.”
As the seconds lengthened into minutes and the silence continued, he had to resort to reading the thoughts which flitted across her face. At least she didn’t withdraw her hand from his.
“It was a long time ago.”
“I thought as much. What was it? What made you so afraid?”
“It wasn’t just one thing,” she said finally. “It was many. Little by little. I can’t remember a time when my father didn’t control every second of my family’s life. At first, it was normal. I imagined everyone’s family life was like that. But, as I grew older, I saw how it was with other,normalfamilies, and how much my mother had changed over the years, I realized that everything about my father was wrong.Everything,” she emphasized.
He almost didn’t want to go on, because he didn’t want to hear how anyone could hurt this beautiful woman. But he had to, for her sake.
“What did he do to you?”
She met his gaze, as if compelled for the first time. “He made me watch him hurt my mother. He made my brother watch him hurt me.”
He couldn’t help it. He curled his hands into balls which wanted to lash out at this monster of a father, forgetting her hand was within his. He closed his eyes, but her sudden yelp had him snapping his eyes open.
He swore as he’d realized how he’d crushed her hand. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’d never, ever hurt you, like that animal who was your father.Never.”
“But you are so controlling, Amare. Like that first night, telling me we would be together as if there would be no other outcome, because it was what you wanted. You didn’t evenaskme whatIwanted.”
“Because I believed we were of the same mind. Deep in your heart you can’t tell me you weren’t, can you, Janey?”
“I was terrified of that feeling of inevitability. It felt like I was on the same path as my mother. And I knew I had to escape before it was too late.”
“And yet you’ve come full circle, back to me.”
“No escape,” she said, but with a smile.
But he didn’t answer her smile with one of his own. None of this was making him happy. “You can always leave. At any time. Of course you can. It’s just…” His expression tensed, as he could no longer conceal his pain. “It’s just, I don’t want you to leave. I want you to want to stay.” His gaze remained on where his finger touched her cheek before he suddenly looked up. “Will you?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but no words emerged.
“You’re asking me to do something I’ve been determinednotto do since I was a child. To willingly choose to tie myself to one man, one place, one destiny and put myself at the mercy of all that entails.” She shook her head. She didn’t know if she could do it.
“Janey, please. Will you stay?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. I feel conflicted. I know now that what we have is beyond the ordinary, but I’m still scared, and I don’t know how to stop being scared.”
He considered her for a few moments. “Perhaps by facing up to the kind of life we could have together?”
“And what would that be like? Surrounded by walls, trapped in a land where I’ll always be a foreigner?”
“Not unless you feel like a foreigner in France. Not unless you object to the walls of a townhouse in Paris.”
“I love Paris. And I certainly don’t object to the ordinary, supportive walls of a house, only the walls which trap me in a situation I can’t escape from.”
