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This man before her was not.
He had not been happy for such a long time now, and sometimes she found herself wondering if she was to blame for all of this. That if she could turn back time, she wondered if it would have been better if she had simply turned her back on—-
Don’t say it, my love.Hadwin’s imaginary voice was amused and chiding at the same time.Don’t even think it. I know your heart’s in the right place, but those words you are thinking aren’t what you truly feel.
Her head lowered.
Oh, Hadwin. How you always save me.
Malik frowned, sensing a sudden change in his Vanna. “Mother?”
Hearing the note of grim concern in her son’s voice, she quickly looked up, saying simply, “I was talking to your father.”
“I see.” He paused. “You’re having hallucinations. You know that, don’t you?” He frowned at her. “Have you started starving yourself again with one of those fad diets?”
She let out an offended gasp. “I have never—-”
“Mother, you know we love you as we are, don’t you? So, yes, you may be a little overweight—-”
“You hateful boy!” She grabbed the first thing she could reach – a book from her desk – and threw it at him, but her son only caught it with a laugh.
Malik turned the book over and choked. “I knew it!” He showed her the book, and Vanna’s face turned red as she realized exactly which book she had thrown at him.
“Really, Mother? Really? Pokemon Go and Diet?”
He started laughing, and Vanna started seeing red.“Wretch!”
Two years ago
The day of Kyria’s high school graduation dawned bright and clear.Allah is good,Malik thought as he followed the rest of his brothers out of the palace and stepped inside the limousine. Their presence at the ceremony was to be a surprise to Kyria, who in her usual modest way had only requested for Vanna to attend her special day.
“What are you smiling about?” Tarif demanded testily of Malik.
“I was thinking of Kyria,” Malik answered calmly, ignoring his cousin’s tone. It was a well-known fact in the palace that Tarif was the only one among the Al-Atassi sheikhs who turned into a growling, snapping beast in the mornings. That the other sheikh had made the effort to attend Kyria’s eight o’ clock ceremony was proof of how much the young woman meant to him as well.
Rayyan rolled his eyes. “When do you evernotthink of her?”
“Airafi.”Fuck you.“I was merely thinking how well she’s turned out, considering all the circumstances.”
Altair shook his head in amusement, drawling, “While I commend you for your sentiments, don’t you think it’s time you stop talking about her like you’re her father?”
The others laughed as Malik muttered an ill-used and extremely crude profanity in their native language.
“She’s already eighteen, Malik,” Khalil pointed out.
“I know that.” Malik’s tone was irritated. Contrary to the others’ belief, Malik had far from forgotten the fact that Kyria was indeed eighteen, an age considered legal and a mark of adulthood in most parts of the world.
He knew that nothing should legally stop him now from making a move, but even so he found himself unable to do so. Eighteen still felt too young and too soon to chain a woman to his side for eternity. While his stand on this hadn’t changed, something else had.
Kyria at eighteen had a woman’s body, and it was this knowledge that unleashed something primitive inside of him. These days, her body was all he could think about, and the thought would always mutate into a gnawing physical ache every time he saw her. Even as he despised himself for wanting her, he simply couldn’t stop himself of thinking of the things he wanted to do with her.
He would see her breasts heave under her shirt, and it would lead to thoughts of how beautifully shaped they were – the perfect size for his hands to palm and squeeze. Other times, it would have him jacking off in the shower while he thought of the color of her nipples. If – when – he ever saw them, he could probably feast on her lovely nipples for—-
“We’re here,” Altair said.
His brother’s voice cut through his thoughts, and Malik shifted on his seat in an uncomfortable attempt to repress his erection.Lueta.If he didn’t find a way to control his sexual fantasies about Kyria anytime soon, he might end up sporting a boner in public.
Dressed in ordinary robes and their gazes covered with dark glasses, the sheikhs were able to slip inside the auditorium and walk among the other guests unnoticed. Their anonymity would not last of course, and they knew it. Already, the young women around them were giggling and elbowing each other, their eyes glued to the rather remarkable portrait the five tall, broad-shouldered men presented. But even so, the Al-Atassi sheikhs were determined to make the most out of their reprieve, however brief.
