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It was hard to find any fault with how Qazim had conducted himself this past year, Grace told herself.
He had been almost the perfect husband.
And her? What kind of wife had she been to Qazim?
Grace gazed down at the garden as she considered the answer to that question. She saw Qazim talking to one of the palace staff. Qazim was talking animatedly to the man.
Grace smiled. Qazim looked handsome, dressed in his white open-necked shirt and dark pants. He looked as if he was in his element. This was where he belonged. His domain.
He had changed in so many ways from the man she had abandoned on that long ago, distant, dark night at his apartment.
Gone was the harshness, the impulsive temper, the need to control. That had all been replaced by a careful consideration of her every need, an obvious determination to be patient and thoughtful.
Sometimes, though, she missed the former Qazim. Feeling guilty, even as she considered it, she'd realized recently that there were times when she missed the man who would act impulsively, the sheikh who wouldn't take no for an answer.
Maybe that man still lay beneath the surface, she told herself. Perhaps it would only need the simplest trigger for Qazim to, once again, become that powerful, demanding male.
The memory of the way she and Qazim had made love over a year ago had never faded from her mind. From time to time, she played with those memories, guiltily savoring their detail. It had become one of her recent, secret pleasures. One that she knew she dare not admit to Qazim.
They had an agreement. Didn't they?
Grace frowned, thinking that maybe that agreement had made sense during a different time. When their life together was only beginning.
But things were different now. So very different.
Down in the garden, Qazim turned suddenly and looked up at Grace's balcony. She felt a sudden, warm sensation sweep through her as he waved to her, smiling broadly. Her nerves tingled, and she felt something in her middle, a familiar feeling that was like an echo of times past. Something she hadn't felt in a very long time.
She forced her attention back to the sight of Qazim gazing up at her. Grace waved tentatively back at him. He made a gesture toward the activity around him, almost as if he was seeking her approval. She nodded and smiled. They were too far away from each other to speak, but she could tell he was excited by what was planned for later that morning.
Zarif's big moment. One of many to come, Grace told herself.
Grace gazed around the palace grounds. This was where Zarif belonged. Where he deserved to grow up.
How could she ever have thought about leaving all of this behind? Some things in life were inevitable. Undeniable. And this was one of them.
Both Zarif and Qazim belonged here.
And her?
Grace sighed. Her place was alongside the two most important people in her life.
Her son and her husband.
Maybe it was time to make the decision she'd been putting off for far too long.
Perhaps the time had come to end the uncertainty of the past year.
And, it occurred to Grace, that today was a fine place to start.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
It had been a good idea to choose the early part of the morning for the ceremony, Qazim told himself. It wouldn't have made any sense bringing Zarif out into the afternoon sun. Even although the ceremony would only last less than half an hour, it was long enough for a baby to be outside in the garden.
The canopy had been completed an hour before. Qazim stood on the grass alongside a long table. Right beside him were the two most important people in his life.
His son and his wife.
Behind them were gathered a small group of family members. Less than twenty close relatives had been invited to this most sacred ceremony. And that was the way it had been for a very long time.
