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His hand, unlike hers, was absolutely steady and after a moment she took the fig and then bit in.
Ilyas was right—it was utterly delicious, rich yet sweet, syrupy and golden.
‘It’s wonderful.’
‘Good.’
He took a mouthful and she watched as he chewed and then he nodded in agreement. ‘Of course, had the fruit been damaged I would not have offered you that part. I would have selected another, or taken that piece for myself. There is pleasure in watching another enjoy. If not, then you might as well eat by yourself.’
She replaced the uneaten portion of fig on the pretty plate before her.
Maggie knew he was referring to sex, and that he had just chastised her for daring to suggest that his lovers derived little pleasure.
The topic, though, was far out of her league.
‘Perhaps I don’t like figs.’
‘Then don’t eat it. I would far rather you spit it out than feign enjoyment,’ he said. ‘Cheap fruit, on the other hand, is another matter—looks good on the outside, but underneath it is either rotten or tasteless.’
Maggie knew for sure they were no longer talking about fruit.
‘Alluring,’ he added, for though they had agreed a truce he simply could not bear the thought of what she might have done.
‘I would not know how to lure and seduce, even if it were my job,’ Maggie cried.
‘Please,’ he scoffed, though his meaning was lost on her, for Ilyas had the proof before his eyes of the temptation she was—and he was not referring to his brother.
But his comment had burst Maggie’s temper. ‘You should be having this conversation with Hazin. If he is so bloody corrupt that you assume this to be true, then what the hell are you doing, running around cleaning up after him?’
‘Leave it!’
‘No.’
Maggie had heard enough.
‘Why do you blame me as you sit there defending him? Why do you run around cleaning up the mess he makes?’
‘Because someone has to.’
It wasn’t just his admission that surprised her but the harsh, bleak tone in which it was delivered.
‘Hazin is heading for trouble. You are right, I should just leave him to it but...’ He didn’t know what to say, for if it had been anyone else, Ilyas would have let them fall.
‘You love him.’
She said it as fact but Ilyas shook his head, certain it could not be that. ‘I hardly know him. We were never together when we were younger.’
‘Never?’
‘Not really,’ Ilyas said. ‘We met for formal occasions but were segregated at other times.’ Even as he shook his head he cast his mind back. ‘Once, though, there was a mix-up.’ He smiled at the memory. ‘Hazin’s nanny was away and the elder who was supposed to be giving me guidance fell ill. We didn’t inform anyone,’ Ilyas said, and he smiled at the memory. ‘We had a day to run wild.’
‘Just a day?’
Ilyas nodded.
‘How old were you?’
‘Eight or so, maybe seven. We went down past thehammamand swam in a cave lake...’
