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“Yes.”
And as the years stretched on in front of her, she wondered if every day would feel this long.
And when she looked at Cairo, the feeling that was created inside of her was more confusing than she would like to admit.
“Change into dry clothes,” he said. “And sleep. For in the morning, we must begin to see to your education.”
And as she watched him walk away, his clothes clinging to him because of the rain—yet he looked no less imposing for it—she realized she would comply.
Because Cairo needed this.
And one thing she had never been able to turn away from was him.
She wasn’t choosing Riyaz.
But part of her was choosing Cairo.
Or perhaps had chosen him all those years ago in Nazul.
Perhaps what really held her here was not the vastness of the desert or the power of the al Hadid family.
But feelings for Cairo that had grown like orange blossoms in the unforgiving sun when she had been far too young to fear their power.
CHAPTER SEVEN
SHOWMETHEDESERT...
He cursed himself as a fool for the entire rest of the night. The memory of her skin beneath his hands...
He never should’ve let her go outside. He never should’ve let her get in a position to run. Less still, should he have negotiated with her.
Weakness.
Ariel Hart had always been an unforgivable weakness.
It was time for breakfast now, and the spread of pastries and very strong coffee that was laid out on the table was mocked by the fact that she had not arrived on time as he had bid her to. If she had run again in the night...
But the house was locked up, and you could only get out if your palm print matched those programmed into the security system. So she could not have done so.
You are soft for her. You always have been.
He gritted his teeth. He was not a stupid boy anymore.
He would not be. It was unacceptable. He would not be soft for the woman, because there was no room for softness in him. In his life. In this world.
Finally, she appeared. She was wearing a pair of high waisted olive green pants with safari pockets and a white shirt. Her hair was tied low on her neck, a white silk scarf holding it back. She looked simple, with no makeup on her face. And yet she made everything in him go tight. And he remembered what she had said last night. About her mother. About armor. About the way clothing made her feel as if she had the strength to face down what she must. He could see how it was true now for her. Could see the way that she had dressed herself today, quite different from last night. Last night her clothing had been a distraction. Glittery, sensual.
Today, they were a riff on the masculine. Much more no nonsense. She had come to negotiate today. Not distract him with her body, and yet, distracted he remained.
“Good of you to join me.”
“Apologies. I found that I rather took longer in the bath than intended. It is a beautiful bath.”
And her words force the image into his mind of her naked body gliding through the water.
Lust kicked him, square and hard. He could not believe that she had chosen her words by accident.
But why? Why would she choose to goad him like this? Was he the only one remembering the past, or did their shared memories haunt her too?
