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Still half asleep, she wandered down the long corridor, following the sound of the chant which was getting louder and clearer. She passed ornately decorated doors and other corridors which led down to mysterious passages, and then one in particular caught her eye. She investigated, and spotted old stone steps leading up to a higher level.
Climbing up, she went through a tiny door and emerged outside with a little gasp of delighted surprise. She could see that she was on one of the castle’s open rooftop terraces, with a stunning view over Merkazad. She went over and stood by the wall, letting her hands rest on it.
Lights were winking off as the sun rose, and the small city glowed pearlescent against the blush stained sky. The distinctive minarets of the main mosque pierced the skyline, and that evocative and melodic chant against the stark silence of the morning made something deep within Iseult tug in a very primal way.
‘It’s the Muezzin, issuing the adhan.’
Iseult whirled around so fast she felt dizzy, and even dizzier to see Nadim leaning nonchalantly against a wall behind her in faded jeans and a crumpled T-shirt, as if he too had just stumbled out of bed and thrown them on. Dark stubble shadowed his jaw, making it look even harder. He looked as if he hadn’t slept either, and liquid heat invaded Iseult’s veins.
‘I…didn’t think anyone would be up.’
Hands in pockets, Nadim hitched his chin towards the city and pushed off from the wall to come and stand closer to Iseult. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. He looked like a devilish angel, not the supreme ruler of a country. ‘The whole city will be stirring now, and getting up to face another day.’
He wasn’t looking at her, just facing out to the city, and Iseult followed his gaze, suddenly feeling very undressed and very vulnerable as she remembered last night. She longed to blurt it out—Were you in my room last night or was I dreaming?—but right now she felt certain that it had to have been a dream, a treacherous fantasy.
‘Why did you come up here?’
Nadim’s voice sounded harsh, and she sensed he was angry with her for disturbing his peace. Iseult could feel his eyes rake over her, and one of her hands gripped the robe tight at her breasts. Imposing a huge strength of will, she avoided looking at him, certain that his proximity would show him how affected she was by him.
Her voice was unbearably husky. ‘I heard the chant and…I don’t know…it seemed to call to me. It’s beautiful.’
‘Yes, it is.’ Nadim’s voice had softened perceptibly. ‘And it is a call. It’s meant to make you want to follow it, to express your devotion.’
Unable not to, Iseult snuck a glance up at Nadim, and the breath stalled in her throat when his dark gaze caught hers. He was looking at her so intently. She felt as if he was issuing some silent call, because right now if he’d taken her hand and asked her to follow him anywhere she would have said yes.
Iseult was in serious danger of drowning in those dark dark eyes, but from deep within her some self-preserving instinct kicked in: the memory of how he’d kissed her came back, and the obvious self-recrimination he’d shown. Both times. She heard herself saying, ‘You must miss your wife…’
Immediately there was a reaction. Nadim’s jaw tightened and those eyes flashed. But her question had had the desired effect; in that mere second she could feel the distance yawn between them, even though physically he hadn’t moved an inch. And, conversely, Iseult regretted saying anything.
‘I shouldn’t be surprised you’ve heard.’
‘I’m sorry… I can’t imagine what it must have been like to lose her.’
‘You’re forgetting it wasn’t just her…it was our baby too.’ Nadim’s face was tight with anger, his voice as harsh as she’d ever heard it.
Now Iseult felt about as low as it was possible to feel. Why on earth had she opened her big mouth? She flushed and moved back. ‘I’m sorry, Nadim, I didn’t mean…I didn’t want to make you think of this…’
He laughed, and it sounded bitter. ‘Don’t worry. I don’t need you to remind me of something that’s seared into my brain.’
Finally he looked away for a moment, and Iseult felt the breath whoosh through her as if he’d held her suspended. Her heart squeezed at the bleak look crossing his face, even as a pain seemed to pierce right through it at the same time.
The assertion reverberating in her head tumbled out. ‘You must have loved her a great deal.’
He slanted a look down at her, his face closed and stark. But then his mouth turned up in a cynical smile, and it sent a shot of trepidation through Iseult.
‘That’s just the thing. I didn’t love my wife. It was an arranged marriage. But she loved me…she expected more from me than I could give.’ He smiled mockingly, obviously seeing something on her face that she wasn’t even aware of. ‘Does that shock you, Iseult? Do you think we’re barbarians here for arranging marriages like that? For not falling in love only to divorce two years later, like the Western world?’
Iseult shook her head. Her brain throbbed. He sounded so hard, and in that moment she felt a surge of sympathy for his wife having entered such a cold marriage. To have loved this cold, implacable man.
Nadim’s mouth was a grim line now. ‘This is normal here, Iseult. I am the Sheikh. I above anyone else am expected to make a good match, a practical match. It’s not about falling in love.’ He nearly sneered when he said those words. ‘People get married every day, and it’s for many reasons. Love rarely, if ever enters into it. To expect love is to expect too much.’
‘But your wife did… Perhaps she just couldn’t help herself.’ Iseult had intended it to come out with a sarcastic edge, but she just sounded sad.
Nadim’s eyes bored down into hers, and bitterness rang in his voice. ‘She should have known better. Like I said, she expected too much. And don’t think a day goes by when I’m not aware of what I couldn’t give her—what I can’t give any woman.’
It was almost as if he’d resigned himself to some kind of fate, and that bleakness reached out and touched Iseult like a cold hand. She shivered, and saw Nadim’s eyes drop and take in her bare legs. When his eyes rose again her body temperature had risen with them.
Had he moved closer? Iseult felt as if he had, even though the same space was still between them. He didn’t move to touch her, but in that moment their eyes locked. Iseult felt as if Nadim was making some decision, staking some silent claim. As if he’d sent her some telepathic communication to say the subject of his wife was closed and the focus was back on her.
