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Her head was bent, and she was oblivious to the way Zamir stared at her in his mirror. She didn’t realise that he barely took his eyes from her face, the entire time they drove. How he wished she would take her sunglasses off so that he could see her properly.
When they pulled up outside the clinic, he knew he could wait no longer. He stepped out of the car and moved to her door. Olivia had just undone her seatbelt and she startled to look up and see him waiting.
“We must speak.”
She pressed her lips together. Though Marook and the driver were out of the car, and probably couldn’t hear them, she still felt embarrassment tingle through her.
“I don’t want to talk,” she said stubbornly, waiting for him to move so that she could step out of the car.
“I command you.”
She laughed, for it was so absurdly ridiculous. “I am not your subject, your highness, and this is not Dashan.”
He tilted his head in acknowledgement. “Fine. I beg you then.” The words were husky in his mouth, as though they pained him to say. “We must speak.”
Her expression softened. She lifted her glasses on to her head then, so that he could see the sincerity in her gaze. “I don’t think any good will come from that.” She swung her legs around. “Excuse me.”
He stepped back automatically, so that she could move down from the car.
“Tonight,” he said, his word a caress against her cheek.
“No.” She locked her gaze to his, hoping he would understand her sincerity. “No more night time visits.”
“It is part of your job to do as I say.”
“Then I will quit,” she said seriously. “I chose not to walk away, because I hate the idea of failing at anything.” He studied the defiant tilt of her chin with a grudging respect. “But if you don’t respect my boundaries, I will walk away from you and this job. I will do it in a heartbeat.”
Something inside of him, an ancient pain, was being doused with fresh fuel. He didn’t want her to leave. He didn’t want her to walk away. “I do not want you to quit. I only want to speak to you.”
“To what end?” She pushed.
“I was surprised last night.”
“Yes, you were. And you spoke with raw honesty. Don’t aim to undo that. It is better for me that I know how you truly feel. Not just about me, but women in general.” Her eyes were sparking with emotion. “You have an appointment.” She nodded towards the building. “And I have an email to finish.” She flashed a completely false smile at him and stalked away, her back straight.
He watched her until she rounded a corner, and then he made a soft noise of frustration. If she thought he would leave it like that, she was mistaken. But this was not the time.
Zamir went through the clinic’s protocol of signing in and being escorted to Ra’if’s ward.
But again, as with previous visits, when he saw his brother, only part of his mind was on Ra’if’s condition.
“You look better,” he said distractedly, as he settled himself into the plastic and fabric chair to one side of the bed.
Ra’if grimaced. “Great.”
Zamir couldn’t help but laugh. “You are still a long way from your best, but these are fading.” He reached out and tapped the skin lesions, a tell-tale sign of heroin abuse that would probably leave scars for a lifetime.
“Yes,” Ra’if agreed. “I must be cured then.”
“Ra’if,” he lifted his ankle over one knee. “You must be patient.”
“I am the patient,” Ra’if corrected in frustration.
“The doctor is pleased with your progress.”
“That fool would be pleased with anything. He’s the one on drugs.”
The grumble brought a smile to Zamir’s face.
