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One night, when the desert dreamed, Anwar had lowered the triple-plated, fortified barriers around his heart. One night, when the desert dreamed, Lucy and Anwar had made love. And that was as wonderful as it was dangerous.
People who coveted Anwar’s position, his wealth, and his title were firmly opposed to his happiness—and Allah forbid it, an heir! Melanie would not, could not let the forces of hateful darkness steal love and light again.
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
In a world enamored with lies, flowers always told the truth, Anwar reflected as he entered his private sanctuary—a hidden paradise where his love for orchids bloomed. As the sun cast its golden rays upon the tranquil garden, the Sheikh strolled amidst a kaleidoscope of vibrant petals, his troubled heart filling with solace and joy.
He nurtured each delicate orchid with meticulous care, whispering words of encouragement as he tended to their needs. His fingers gently caressed the smooth, glossy leaves, his touch a testament to his deep connection with the exquisite flowers.
Surrounded by a symphony of fragrances, Anwar’s thoughts were momentarily distracted from the predicament Lucy and he now faced. He bent his face to the flowers and inhaled, delighting in the unique scent of each orchid variety. From the intoxicating vanilla notes of the Vanda Miss Joaquim to the delicate floral aroma of the Phalaenopsis, his senses were captivated by nature's perfumed masterpieces. Their beauty stirred his soul, transporting him to a realm of serenity.
His thoughts drifted to Lucy and how similar she was to the orchids he loved. Delicate, yet strong. Fragile, yet enduring. Independent, yet needing protection. Had he done the right thing by abducting Lucy— stealing her away from her life, her friends, and her family?
Family!Predators and traitors! Wasn’t that the lesson his brutal upbringing instilled in him, he mused as his laser vision narrowed on tiny aphids burrowed within the leaves of his precious flowers? The tenacious vultures hung in the shadows, sucking all that was good and beautiful. Just like his family. Just like Lucy’s family.
But it didn’t have to be this way, he affirmed as he scraped the aphids with his fingertips and squashed them resolutely. Lucy and his unborn child were his family now. He would do everything possible to protect those most precious to him. No matter the personal cost, he would provide Lucy and his son with a love-filled future.
Anwar moved slowly through the giant, climatically controlled glass house, studying the intricate patterns of the orchids’ petals, marveling at how nature painted such uniquely intricate designs, each with its own DNA. With a keen eye for detail, he had identified the specific conditions required for each orchid's optimal growth—temperature, humidity, and sunlight—ensuring they flourished under his watchful gaze.
If he could do this for his flowers, why couldn’t he achieve this for Lucy? She felt like her freedom had been stolen by the sheikh. But in time, she would see how they would all flourish. That much he could, andwould,control.
Anwar tore his thoughts away as his servants approached. He waved them away and reached for the hose, insisting on watering the orchids himself. As tiny droplets of water sprayed over the blooms, he marveled at the resilience and diversity of the fragile plants. Each one held a story, a unique journey of growth and survival.
Flowers taught him patience as he waited for the lime green buds carrying new life to unfold. And they taught him humility as he witnessed their blossoming and beheld the grandeur of their unreplicable beauty.
His love for orchids was not only a personal passion but a symbol of his dedication to preserving the natural treasures of Avana and rescuing rare species at risk of extinction. Through his private greenhouse, he sought to educate others about the miraculous world of orchids, inspiring them to appreciate the delicate balance between man and nature. His passion for orchids married perfectly with art—each created beauty, blossoming in a world that seemed enamored with ugliness and hate.
Unlike paintings, his flowers could not be faked. His thoughts drifted to the accusation lobbied against Lucy by his brother, Hamad. For a brief moment, in his oasis of tranquillity, Anwar found respite from the trappings of greed and deceit and the demands of his royal duties. Here, amid the whispering leaves and gentle hum of bees, he could escape and find solace in the simplicity of nature's wonders.
His thoughts drifted to Lucy again. She was his reluctant bride. It shouldn’t matter, but it did. Why did her refusal to submit ache so? Was it time to let the buds of love unfold and open his heart to the beauty in her belly soon to flower?
His unborn child rested in the sacred waters of his mother’s womb. New life was unfolding within the nurturing cocoon of her sacred body. It was a big responsibility.Would he get it right and be a great dad or fuck it up as his parents had?He lowered his face to the fragrant magenta-coloured orchid and raked his hand through his hair. He was going to be a father.
“New life will soon be here,” he whispered to the orchids. “The start of a new cycle.” Anwar looked around the greenhouse. “I’ll be honest,” he whispered when he was sure he was alone. “I’ve led legions of armies into battle, conquered warlords and despots, slayed tyrants and dictators, but this role is my greatest challenge yet. To be a good father. To sire a strong and noble son. To lead a child into manhood. This I have never done.”
He hesitated. “I feel. . .dare I admit it. . . uncertain. The world has gone mad,” he said, turning to his beloved white orchids. White, the color of peace, he reflected. Usually, the ivory blooms made him feel calm. Why did he suddenly feel so unsettled?
“I’m afraid I’ll fuck it all up,” he admitted.
Was that why he pushed Lucy away? Was it easier to intentionally sabotage their relationship than put his whole heart into the game and discover he was a failure?
An A+ failure at love. An A+ failure as a husband. An A+ failure as a dad.
What if his father was right? Anwar thought as he pulled dead leaves from his plants. He had been a total failure as a son. His father had said he was a waste of space, not worth the title and vast wealth he had inherited.
No, Anwar corrected, snipping a dead bloom with sharp scissors. My father was a fatally flawed man. If Anwar was a fuck up in his father’s eyes, it was because of his dysfunctional cruelty. Anwar had been neglected, starved of love, and beaten with cold indifference, just like the cruelty Lucy had been subjected to as a child. Was that what drew him to return to New York to find her? Was that why he was so resolute in keeping her here?
I was innocent once, untainted by my family’s reign, he silently acknowledged. His unborn child was still an untainted innocent. He deserved happiness.They all deserved happiness, he vowed.
“It feels daunting,” Anwar admitted as he gently misted the orchids’ leaves with water. Rainbow light danced off the droplets like tiny mirrors, Anwar mused, reflecting what was to come. New life. New memories. A new beginning.
Don’t be so hard on yourself, Anwar silently affirmed. Ease into your new role as a father and a husband. Learn to gently release the past and make space for this time of magical renewal.
He would ensure infinite love always surrounded his child and his wife, he vowed, casting an appreciative glance around his beloved beauties before heading back to the palace. And he knew just the place to start.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
What if life could be easier, Lucy wondered? What if all she had to do was cede her fierce self-reliance and allow herself to accept Anwar’s protection—even if he couldn’t, or wouldn’t love her?
