The distraction of what she needed to know and learn had almost been enough to allow her to forget. To forget that she hadn’t seen Khalid since the night she’d met his entire family.
She had thought, that night, that their desire was a very mutual, very real force. She had thought he wanted her with the same suffocating need that was rampant in her.
But he’d stayed away.
He’d avoided her.
True, it had only been one week.
But a week in which the fires he’d lit had continued to burn. And she didn’t know how to douse them. She didn’t know how to release the pent up frustration that was damming together inside her, to form a wall.
Three days from the wedding, she felt desperately distanced from the man she would marry. And strangely close to her deceased cousin.
Walking the halls Tashana had walked, learning the lessons she’d heard, passing the time with Fadi, it was an experience that made her feel as though she was breathing the same air as Tasha.
There was no door at the Eastern end of the palace. Instead there was a large opening, carved into the wall, shaped like an arch. Guards stood watch constantly.
At first, she worried they might stop her.
But then she remembered the instructions Fadi had been drumming into her.
She lifted her head, her bearing unmistakably autocratic, and moved swiftly passed them. She didn’t make eye contact, nor even by so much as a breath betray that she was aware of their presence.
Princesses didn’t react to palace guards. They were part of the building like a lamp or a door.
She strode past them, and skirted the side of the palace until a path picked off to the side. She followed it, running her hands over a soft, spiked bush as she went.
The air had been kissed by night. With each breath, she felt dew touch her tongue. She smiled, happy for the first time in a week.
The path had a gentle slope to it, moving away from the palace in a downward trajectory. Instinctively, Sally turned away from the formally landscaped gardens to her right.
She did not wish to be surrounded by something so planned and regimented.
She wanted spontaneity and truth.
As she walked, the gravel crunched under foot, and the stars slowly bled their light into the sky, swirling more and more of the morning into the paint pot of inky night.
Her breaths were deep, her lungs inflating with the air of Tari’ell.
Had Tasha explored this same path? Had she sought the same connection to their childhood that Sally now realised she was chasing?
As if her dream had conjured it, the sound of a bubbling stream filtered into her mind. She moved faster, not caring when branches scraped against her cheek, sending her hair into disarray.
The landscape of the palace was changing. Paths were morphing into tracks, and the greenery was overtaking them. The careful tending of the shrubbery didn’t extend as far as she’d walked.
How far had she gone?
She looked over her shoulder, without slowing her pace. The palace was a shimmering beacon in the dawn light. It glowed with the promise of a new day.
A day Sally intended to start differently to the others.
She let out a small yelp of pleasure when she rounded a large pomegranate tree and saw the stream. Two steep, stony banks cleaved to meet it. At its widest point, it was several metres across. It swirled and sung to her. There was nothing overhead but the heavens.
Sally picked her way down the stones, until she reached the water’s edge. Here, she slipped her shoes from her feet and pressed her toes into the rapidly moving current.
She closed her eyes, and finally gave in to the grief that had been consuming her for six long weeks, since learning of Tasha’s death.
Her body shook with the force of emotion, but the sound of her grief was buried in the swirling stream. She collapsed to the dry ground, keeping her feet in the water as she stared up at the sky.
She’d been reading The Guardian when her father had arrived with the news.
“Saaliyah,” he too had despised the shortened version of her name. “Your cousin has been in an accident.”
“An accident?” She’d set the paper onto her lap, keeping a finger in her page so that she could return to the same point later. “Is she okay?”
“No, child. She is not. She is dead.”
She is dead.
It was a car accident. On a very straight road, with no impediments in sight, her car had driven at speed, off the road and over a cliff. It had exploded instantly, both Tasha and the driver killed within seconds.
The accident, as her father had called it, had later been questioned.
There had been no earthly reason for the car to veer off course. No reason for it to have crashed.
Upon investigation, an enormous sum of money was shown to have been transferred to the driver’s bank account, and then immediately to his wife.
There was no clue as to who had orchestrated the affair. But there was no longer any doubt.
Tasha had been killed.
And the reason undoubtedly had something to do with her upcoming marriage to the powerful Sheikh Khalid ash-Hareth.
Sally’s fingers clutched around a small, round stone. She palmed it from one hand to the other, and then skimmed it along the water’s surface, as her father had taught her to do.
As a child, she had loved being outdoors.
That connection with nature had been buried deep within her. For where in London could she run, barefoot and free, like the wildling she was? Not through the pavements of Mayfair, nor the organised greenery of Hyde park. Even in the country, her father had expected a degree of decorum from her, as she’d grown older.
Her childish love for water and grass and flowers and soil had been forcibly whittled away.
Sally ran her fingers over her cheeks. They were still wet.
The sun was rising higher in the sky now, a golden ball of warmth and light. She squinted up at it, marvelling at how it looked the same from anywhere on earth. Even in London, filtered by smog and winter, it had shone exactly the same.
The words of Tasha’s last email were burned into her heart.
She thought of them now, as she idly threw pieces of leaf into the water. It had been sent a month before she’d died. A month! And Sally had not worried at the time between communication. After all, the wedding was approaching, and Tashana had much to do.
My dear Sal,
Palace life is quite extraordinary. I cannot wait for you to travel to Tari’ell and see for yourself this beautiful country of ours. My heart has opened to it in a way I didn’t expect.
My heart has opened to many things. The people, the palace, and the place. And yes, as you had hoped, my heart has opened to love. I didn’t expect it would be so, but you knew better!
My clever Sal. It was you who told me to expect wonderful things. I had no idea how right you were.
So I thank you, darling, for encouraging me to take this step. You had no idea, I suspect, that you were going to be so instrumental in my happiness. But there you have it – you are a true friend!
I have a dress fitting this afternoon. It’s all very glamorous. I’m in heaven.
Love forever and always, T x
Sally’s stomach hurt.
Had Tashana really loved Khalid?
It was very obvious that he had not loved her.
Was he even capable of love?
Sally shook her head slowly.
He was certainly capable of passion. But how could Tasha have fallen in love with him? They’d only met twice, and by his own admission, both of those occasions had been formal and observed.
She thought of Khalid, with his soulful black eyes and enigmatic smile, and her heart turned over.
Yes, she could very well understand how Tasha had come to believe herself in love.
He was a man who whispered magic into one’s being with a single look alone. He was power and strength and passion
and destiny.
Sally squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t love him. She was not looking for love, though. But she did lust for him. She did want him.
You are a true friend!
Was she? By coming to the palace and taking Tasha’s place, had she served their friendship, or betrayed it?
She made a sound of frustration, and found a larger stone. She threw it into the water, watching with satisfaction as it sank.
Stone after stone she projected into the water, wishing that eventually she’d be able to sink her feelings away.
“What do you mean, gone?” He set his fork down with a calmness that was belied by the masked fury in his face.
Fadi rung her hands in front of her. “I went to her Sally’s room at the usual time, prepared to begin our day. But she was gone. Her attendants presumed I had come early, and so failed to notify security.”
His eyes were glittering black jewels in his face. “It is not possible for her to have left the palace.”
“I know, Khal, but she has. It must have been very early. Or even in the middle of the night.”
Sharp fury made his hands shake. And something else, too. Terror. Concern. Fear. “Do we no longer have a palace security detail?” He snapped, standing to his full height. He knew that taking his emotions out on Fadi was both unhelpful and unkind, and yet Fadi was there and therefore easiest to express outrage at.
“Yes, sir, and they’re being interviewed. One of the guards at the east gate thinks she might have walked past early this morning, but he can’t be certain.”
“Can’t be certain?” The Sheikh barked, his ridicule obvious. “Bring me this man. At once.”
“Yes, sir.” Fadi moved quickly, her own anxieties obvious in every step she took.
“And Fadi?” His voice was deep, laced with strength.
She stopped walking and looked at him plaintively.
“Find her.”
Fadi nodded, sweeping out of his room with a quicker step.
Khalid crossed his arms over his chest, the rise and fall of which was rapid and deep. He stared out of his window, towards the Allani ranges.
Where was she?
The guard appeared within moments.
“You saw Saaliyah Ibarra leave the palace.” A statement.
“I think so, sir. But it was very early. And the light not good. I did not wish to stare.”
“You did not wish to stare?” It was a roar into the enormous room. He moved towards the man, unknowingly menacing. “It is your job to stare! It is your job to keep her safe! Her cousin was killed while one of our palace staff was driving her! And you let her waltz out of here in the middle of the night?”
The man swallowed, his fear obvious.
Khalid was a kind ruler, and usually, the sight of one of his subjects in such obvious agony would have urged him to calm down. But he was not capable of such thought now.
He knew he would not relax until she was found.
Unharmed.
The thought of something happening to her filled him with a deep, dark angst.
He glared at the man for a very long time. Until he thought his servant might actually pass out from terror. “You will not stop until you find her. Am I clear?”
“Yes, yes, sir. I will.”
“Go, now. Trace her.”
“Yes.” He ran from the room.
Khalid paced from one side to the other, his expression unreadable, his body tense. Every noise outside his door brought his eyes flying up, in case it was news.
But long minutes passed, and then they bled into an hour. Khalid could no longer stay in his palace, hoping for the best.
He slammed his hand against the table and then moved swiftly across the floor. With his hand on the door, a knock sounded.
He pulled it inwards with all the impatience that had ever been. Fadi was looking at him.
He arched a brow in silent question, and she nodded. “Yes. She’s been found.”
“Where?” A hiss.
“By the old creek.”
“The old creek? That’s two miles away. What in the world…? Is she? Was she hurt?”
Fadi’s brows were low on her face. “No, Khal, she isn’t.”
“Then I’m going to kill her,” he ground out. “What was she thinking, to walk so far, and without a servant?”
Fadi was anxious to smooth the way for a woman she had come to think of as a friend. Of course, they could never truly be friends – their situation made that impossible for a plethora of reasons.
“She wanted to be alone. She never meant to go so far. She certainly had no idea she would cause such alarm.”
“Enough.” He held up a hand, and it was shaking with feeling. “Bring her to me. Immediately, Fadi. And do not apologise for her again. She is a big girl. Big enough to know better.”
He waited until Fadi had left, and then closed his eyes. The sigh of relief made his body heave.
Relief was quickly replaced by his first emotion of blind, incalculable fury.
He stood, unmoving, until a sound at the door heralded her arrival.
She stood, flanked on either side by mutinous looking Tari’ell security. He realised they were there but he did not look at them.
He was incapable of looking past Saaliyah.
Her long brown hair was waved and loose, wild about her pretty, pink-cheeked face. Her eyes were sparkling and her lips were full. Her outfit was odd and her shoes so wet they were making big, sloppy puddles beneath her. She had a scratch on her face, that ran from her ear to her chin. It was a pale red, as though it had bled and not been wiped clean.
He raked his eyes over for fully two minutes, unable to reconcile this untamed little pixie with the woman he’d last seen. At the formal introduction, a week ago, she had been both regal and poised.
He moved his head a fraction, urging the security agents to close the door. They did so, leaving him alone with his quarry.
She was staring at the floor, her pink lower lip pulled between her teeth. He studied her long, curling lashes, and the way they fanned over her cheeks. When she said nothing, and didn’t even meet his eyes, he felt his disposition worsen.
“Well?” He prompted finally, two dark patches on his cheeks.
“Well?” She responded in kind. She too was angry! Fascination nipped at his heels.
“What do you have to say, Saaliyah?”
“Sally is my name,” she corrected, in no humour to be lectured. “And I don’t think you want to know what I have to say.”
He compressed his lips. “Then I will speak.”
Her eyes leapt to his, her glare angry. “Do you know what it felt like to be frogmarched here? As though I am no more than a naughty schoolgirl, being called to the principal’s office? I am to be your wife, and yet those men treated me like a petty criminal!”
“Those men did exactly what I needed of them. I asked them to find you, and they did.”
“How can you find someone who is not lost?”
“Your bedroom was empty and your staff perplexed. Fadi was beside herself,” he said, intentionally failing to mention how his own fears had been invoked.
“I didn’t intend to raise alarm,” she responded hotly. “I woke early. I wanted to go for a walk. I had no idea it would cause fuss. I didn’t leave the palace grounds, after all.”
“You are never to do this again.” His voice was without emotion, but his face was loaded with it. His black eyes were swirling with a depth of feeling she couldn’t understand.
Her mouth gaped. “Who do you think you are to talk to me like that? You might be Sheikh but I am a princess of Medouzan …”
“Yes,” he hissed impatiently, taking a step towards her. “A deposed kingdom that is now little more than a belt of unruly hell-raisers.” He compressed his lips, dangerously close to snapping. “But you could very well have been in danger. Did it even occur to you think of what you owe to me, and your country?”
“Danger?” She shook her head
. “Ridiculous.” But a shiver danced on her spine.
“You forget, Saaliyah, I have already lost one fiancé. A little over a month ago, your cousin was murdered. And she was in a car with a driver who had been in the palace’s employ for years.”
The way her face drained completely of colour did not bring him any satisfaction. He was grim as he took another step to her. “I have already received the news that the woman I intended to marry was gone forever. I thought I was to hear the same report today. Did that occur to you? Or were you so selfish that you never wondered how your absence would be taken?”
She was instantly contrite, and also watchful. “I’m sorry,” she said finally, her eyes expressing her sincerity. “I didn’t intend to go so far. Nor to be gone so long.”
His scowl didn’t shift.
Sally felt her feet edge forward. She hadn’t seen him in a week, and his proximity was quickly subsuming any thoughts other than desire.
“I had a nightmare,” her eyes were staring up at him, and a strange thing was happening to Khalid’s rage. It was disappearing. Ebbing quickly from his powerful frame, as this waif of a pixie weaved her magic around him in its place. “I dreamed of Tasha.” She shivered. “I’ve been thinking of her often. Wondering about her last days.” She swallowed. “I was upset.” She dropped her eyes, away from his penetratingly intense gaze. “As children, we used to run through a stream not unlike this one. We sent little emissaries into the ocean. Leaves, sticks. On warm days, we’d lie on our backs, floating in the swirling water, and stare up at the sun-lit sky. I can still remember the way it smelled. Sweet like nectar and earthy from the clay.” She blinked, clearing the memory that was so real she almost felt she could reach out and touch it. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
She was a witch! Her words were some kind of spell, bringing him into her orbit.
He shook his head slowly, but it did little to free him from her power. “No.”
“Nor did I. But I think Tasha was talking to me last night. To have dreamed of that time in our lives, and then followed a hidden path to a similar spot … it was as if I was walking not away from the palace, but into the past instead.” She pulled her lip between her teeth again. His eyes dropped to the gesture, captivated by the way it transformed her face into a state of distracted anxiety. “I’m sorry you were worried.” And from where the courage came, she couldn’t have said. But she lifted a hand and cupped his cheek. To her surprise and relief, he didn’t move away. Instead, he sucked in a deep breath, his eyes lancing hers.
Bartered to the Sheikh & Rakanti's Indecent Proposition (Clare Connelly Pairs Book 8) Page 6
