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Phoebe bit back the desire to tell him she had no interest discussing his ridiculous suggestion, but she thought better of it.
“And Phoebe,” he said seriously, leaning forward and putting his hands on the bed. In one swift movement, he pulled the sheet. She squawked as he threw it clear across the room, leaving her naked and exposed. His grin was sexy, but his eyes were somber. “Do not hide yourself from me. You agreed to be my lover, and all that it entails. Do not be ashamed now.”
Hakim strode from the room, leaving Phoebe staring up at the ceiling. She heard the door open, and with relief, she closed her eyes. A thousand feelings were bashing at her emotional equilibrium, tearing down the walls of certainty that had long been erected. The first tear fell slowly, but the second, third and all that followed it were quick to follow. Like tiny raindrops on her passion flushed face, she cried silently.
It had not been her best thought out plan, she thought with a wistful grimace, curling into the fetal position and staring, unseeing, towards the window. To avenge herself on a man like Hakim was an idea always destined to fail. No matter what contest Hakim entered, he would always win. Not because he was sheikh and royal, but because he was supremely self-assured and strong willed.
What had she thought? That he’d sleep with her and all of the ghosts of the past would dissipate? As if she could point her finger at Etienne, five years after his death, and say, ‘ha ha ha!’. Ha-ha-hardly was more like it. And as for Hakim, she had completely misread him. How had she thought they could sleep together and then move on? Why hadn’t she realized that his over-developed sense of morality would breed an illogical sense of obligation in him, too?
She sobbed loudly now, heavy of heart and weary of mind. For too long she had let Etienne’s abuse control her life, and she’d just done so again, in the worst possible way.
The door clicked shut quietly, but Phoebe didn’t hear it, because she was giving in to the thick fog of emotions that was blanketing her.
“Did I hurt you?” The softly spoken words were the first indication she had that Hakim was still in the room.
“Oh, God.” She dashed her hands across her face, in a futile effort to wipe away her tears.
She looked up at him, knowing what a mess her face must have been. When Phoebe cried, her skin went blotchy and her eyes puffed up as though she’d had an allergic reaction. And, she supposed, she had. To the idea of being married to a man like Hakim, who could drive her wild with one look, but would never love her as she desperately needed to be loved.
He sat down on the bed. If Phoebe had been less concerned about having been caught in an intimate moment of weakness, she might have seen the horror on Hakim’s face. “Did I hurt you?” He repeated, lightly touching her naked thigh.
“Hurt me?” She stalled for time, waiting for her voice to stop sounding so wimpish.
“I was not gentle. As I ought to have been.”
Phoebe colored, and dropped her eyes from his. “No, you weren’t.” She bit down on her lip. “But you didn’t hurt me.” She couldn’t tell him how much she’d liked being with him. She didn’t need to. Surely he’d seen that in the shameless way her body had responded to his.
Hakim had absolutely no experience with women and their emotions. His blank expression conveyed his awkwardness perfectly.
“I’m fine,” she said, through gritted teeth. “I just don’t want you to see me like this. Would you please go?”
Hakim had also never been dismissed from a room in his palace before. It reminded him of the first time they’d met, when she’d shouted at him and told him to leave her alone. Then, as now, it did not sit well on his shoulders. “Why are you crying?”
She let out a strangled noise, somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “Come on, Hakim.” She used his name without thinking and it didn’t occur to him to object. “You want to talk to me about this even less than I want to talk about it. Just, leave it.”
Hakim had the ability to freeze anyone with a single look. He was renowned for his imposing nature. It seemed to have little effect on Phoebe. “You are disappointed to have lost your virginity?” He hazarded.
She shook her head, another sob mingled with an uncomfortable laugh. “No.”
“I have three foreign ambassadors waiting for me Phoebe, but I will sit with you until you tell me what the hell has upset you.”
Phoebe pulled her knees to her chest and pressed her cheek against them. “Then you can stay all day,” she responded quietly. Her stomach was swirling with feeling and anxiety.
Something heavy shift in Hakim’s gut. It made him uncomfortable. He stood, with a shake of his head. “I cannot.” It was so rare for him to acquiesce to someone else’s plans, yet he was willing to be dismissed by Phoebe now. He shook his head again, as he stared down at her slend
er figure, curled together like a conch shell. “This is a temporary reprieve, Phoebe. Until tonight.”
She watched him go this time, waiting until he’d disappeared through the door and closed it. Her tears were spent, her mood oddly calm, after the storm.
Later, as she pulled a simple black dress over her head and smoothed it down her body, she wondered if her tears had been a strange reaction to losing her virginity? She hadn’t thought herself emotional about it, and yet what else could explain the weirdly fraught response she’d had? That she’d seduced a man like Hakim out of a foolish desire for revenge did not help matters, she thought with a wry smile.
She slid a diamond solitaire earring into place, fastening it with the butterfly clip. A shard of memory pierced her mind. “I am a very, very possessive lover, Phoebe. I am demanding and I am insatiable. If we cross this line, you will be mine for as long as it pleases me. Do you understand?”
A tingle ran down her spine. A shudder of anticipation swarmed her senses, bringing pleasure to her overwrought nerve endings.
He had been a possessive lover. He’d possessed her body completely and he’d possessed her mind all day. For weeks, actually, if she were being completely honest. For years? An insistent nagging parried in her mind.
Phoebe froze, one hand lifted to place her second earring into its place, as her mind cast back to that first meeting.
