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When she walked into the dining room, he was not there. But Aisha was.
“He is waiting for you outside in the garden.”
“Oh,” she said.
“I will show you.”
Of course, Aisha would have to show her, because she knew she couldn’t exit any part of the palace without an approved palm print. She had tried.
But then, she didn’t feel all that inspired to try to run again. Not after...
She thought of what happened last night. Running in the rainstorm. Fighting against him like that. He was a strong, solid wall of muscle. A strong, solid wall of man. There was no running from him. No opposing him. Not really.
Aisha pressed her palm to a doorway she hadn’t gone through before, and it opened. There was a garden back here. Landscaped and beautiful, surrounded entirely by the mountain. Private. It was lit up now, even in the darkness. Glowing mosaic lights casting colorful sunspots everywhere. The ground was tiled in white and blue, and there was a fountain at the center. And fruit trees. Like the palace in Nazul. Like the palace where she and Cairo had sat together. And there he was. Wearing a white shirt tucked into black pants. The shirt was unbuttoned midway down his chest, and she could not help but admire his stark, tanned skin, and the contrast with the pale fabric. He looked strong and beautiful. Vital.
She swallowed hard. Everything had felt upside down from the moment he had come back into her life. He had kidnapped her after all. Turned everything a different way.
It had also been like he’d returned from the dead. She had always hoped that he lived. But she hadn’t known. And for the first time, she allowed herself to feel a rush of gratitude that the boy she had cared so much for was still alive. Even if he had grown into a man whose purposes opposed her own.
He said he wouldn’t make you a prisoner.
And maybe she had to accept that as a compromise. Except, of course some women got to live their entire lives in freedom.
You’ve had over fifteen years of freedom. And you built a wonderful business with it. But what have you done with your personal life?
She had never been in love with anyone. Not anyone but him.
She ignored that treacherous thought. It wasn’t that she was in love with him... Maybe she had thought that she was. And maybe it had kept her from moving on. Even now, his masculine beauty left her speechless. Even now it appealed to her in a way that no one else ever had.
He was so strong and solid, and she was torn between wanting to fling herself at him and hit him again like she had done last night. And... Throw herself at him and cling to him. To move her hand over that flash of bare skin of his chest. To feel his muscles, the heat of his skin, his chest hair.
She blinked, and then turned to look at Aisha, but the other woman had melted away, leaving her there alone with Cairo.
“This is the feast that we will have for the wedding,” he said, gesturing to a table behind him. She hadn’t even looked at the table. She had been so focused on him.
So focused on the reality that what she had done with her freedom had been... Very, very limited. All this time she could have done whatever she wanted. Taken whichever lover she chose. She hadn’t. Because a part of her had never left Nazul. Whatever she told herself, a part of her had never been truly free, and it wasn’t simply a matter of waiting for Riyaz to escape the dungeon. It was something deeper than that. Much, much deeper.
Something she couldn’t bear to examine. Not now.
“Come, my moon. Have a seat.” He held the chair out for her. It was a glorious chair. Golden mosaic like everything else in the garden. And she found herself obeying his command, taking her seat at the table. “Spiced lamb,” he said. “Couscous with mint. Lemon rice. These will be the traditional things you will find at your wedding feast.”
“I see.”
There was a cake as well, at his end of the table.
“What is the cake?”
“Saffron. Honey and orange.”
Orange. The tang of it settled on her tongue even without having tasted it. The promise of it.
And it reminded her of that day in the garden. And this reminded her of that night long ago.
When he had touched her cheek. They had very nearly kissed that night. She had always been sure of it. The idea had often terrified her. Because she had wondered... Though they were young... She had wondered if Cairo would have ever actually touched his mouth to hers if they would have ever been able to stop at a kiss. Or if passion would have carried them to a place where the consequences might have been far-reaching for her. Especially since... Days after that night she had left. And then his family was gone.
She began to serve herself food, trying her best to banish thoughts from long ago.
“How did you find out when it happened?”
