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The physician was brilliant and up to date on medicine. Hafiz had seen that firsthand when Lacey arrived in the country and had drunk water that had not been purified. That week had been torture, and Hafiz was insistent that she was given the best care, no matter what. Hafiz would never place secrecy above Lacey’s well-being, and it stung to have someone silently questioning his priorities.
“She’s overheated,” he explained, keeping the defensiveness out of his voice. “The shower is already doing wonders.”
“We threw away the newspapers like you requested, but we never thought Lacey would leave to get one.” The woman twisted the pleat of her yellow sundress with nervous hands and slid a worried glance at the closed bathroom door.
“It’s no one’s fault,” he said. No one’s but his own. He should have prepared Lacey for the possibility of his wedding, but he’d held on to the hope that his intended bride would have declined the offer. “Please, find something light for her to wear.”
“Of course.” The housekeeper gratefully accepted the task and opened the doors to the armoire, revealing gossamer-thin cotton in every color of the rainbow.
Hafiz walked into the simply appointed drawing room and tried to recapture the peace he always felt whenever he stepped into this home. Decorated with an eclectic mix of wood tables carved in the severe Rudaynahi style and chunky upholstered sofas from the Western world, Lacey had managed to add her upbeat personality with tribal throw rugs and colorful paintings from local artisans.
The apartment was more than a home. It was a haven. It was the only place he felt both passion and peace. The only place in the world he experienced unconditional love.
Hafiz walked slowly to the grand piano that sat in the middle of the room and under the carefully positioned spotlight. It had been incredibly difficult shipping the instrument into the country. Flying in a piano tuner every couple of months was no easy feat, but seeing Lacey’s joy and listening to her soulful music made it all worthwhile.
He fingered the sheet music scattered on the polished black wood. The woman had the talent to become a successful recording artist. Hafiz had told her enough times, but she always shook her head in disagreement. Music was a big part of her, but she didn’t want to be consumed with the ladder of success like her parents, who were still striving for their big break. She didn’t have the desire.
But she stored up all her passion for him. Did that make him feel less guilty in whisking her to his country? The edges of the sheet music crinkled under his fingertips. Because she had no interest in pursuing a career? Because she didn’t have family ties?
Hafiz pondered the question as he walked to the doors leading to the balcony that overlooked the Persian Gulf. He admitted that it made it easier to ask her to drop everything and follow him. To stay in the apartment and wait for him. Not once had she complained or shown resentment until today.
And she had every right. He had risked everything for more time with Lacey. The relationship they had was forbidden. And now, as of today, it was impossible.
Only Hafiz didn’t allow that word in his vocabulary, and he wasn’t willing to let the idea invade his life with Lacey.
“What are you still doing here?” Lacey asked at the doorway on the other side of the long room.
Hafiz turned around. Lacey’s wet hair was slicked back into a copper waterfall. She had changed into a pink cotton caftan that clung to her damp skin. Gold threads were woven into the fabric and sparkled like stars.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked, silently watching the housekeeper duck into the kitchen.
“Much. You’re free to go.” She walked toward the front door.
“Lacey, we need to talk.”
“No kidding, but I don’t want to right now.” She gripped the thick door handle. “You have had years to think about this. I have had less than an hour.”
“Lacey—” He crossed the room and stood in front of her, prepared to take the brunt of her anger and soak up her tears.
“I want you to go.” She flung open the door.
Hafiz’s shoulders flexed with tension. Every instinct told him to stay, but he knew what she said made sense. It was strange to have her as the calm one and he filled with impetuous emotions. He didn’t like the role reversal.
