by Lynn, Sophia
He spilled inside her with a barely muffled roar, pressing her hard against the glass. She relished the idea of being so filled with him and his pleasure, and for a beautiful moment, one where nothing in the world existed but the two of them, they were one person. No other lives, nothing but this, and Myriah’s eyes closed with pleasure.
Chapter Five
Myriah
Myriah felt like but a stretch of limp seaweed, floating around in the ocean waves. She was vaguely aware of Halil pulling away from her body gently, but keeping ahold of her. A moment later, she made a soft sound of surprise as he scooped her up in his arms and pulled her away from the window.
“Well, that was certainly a show we put on for any helicopters or drones that might have been flying by,” she said, aware of how dry her throat was.
Halil chuckled.
“The glass is tinted. No one would have been able to see anything.”
“Well, now you tell me. You won’t be able to pull that trick on me again.”
“Was it really a trick?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything right now.”
She winced a little as Halil set her on the edge of the tub, but it only took a few moments for it to fill, beautifully hot water rushing in from elegantly sculpted faucets at each corner. She thought Halil was being a little overly fussy when he handled her into the hot water, but when she stumbled a bit, she realized that he was probably right to do so.
Myriah couldn’t help a deep sigh of relief when she sunk to her chin in the water. The tub felt enormous, as if two or three other people could fit in easily, and she forced herself to open her eyes to look at her lover.
“What are you doing all the way over there?”
He was at the mirror, his hand at his neck, and he glanced at her with a slight grin.
“Looking at the tooth marks you left on me, Miss Shark,” he said. “Those are deep.”
Myriah felt a twinge of guilt, but like everything else she was feeling now, it was all muted by the intense pleasure that had left her so very drained.
“Was it very bad?”
“Hm. Well, I will be wearing these marks for the next day or so at least . . .”
“I’m sorry . . .”
“Believe me, darling, I was not complaining.”
When she thought about it, she thought she knew what he meant. Each mark would be a trophy of sorts, a souvenir of their encounter in all of its strange and unexpected glory. A reminder of what they had together when she was gone back to her world and he was gone back to his.
“I shouldn’t have let you put me into the bath,” she mumbled, even as she rolled in the hot water. She wasn’t sure she had ever felt anything quite so good.
“No? Why not?”
“Because . . . I should probably get back to my own hotel eventually.”
“Why would you do that?”
She started to respond, but then Halil came to slide into the bath with her. She had spent the last hour or so by her reckoning with his hands all over her, but the brief break and the hot water made it all feel new again. Then they were sliding over each other like fish, slippery and warm and perfect, and for a moment, it was all she could do not to reach for him again.
“Because . . . because . . .”
“If you can’t think of a more cogent reason, I may not let you leave.”
He came close to her, wrapping his arms around her and nuzzling the sensitive place behind her ear. “I may . . . try my utmost to convince you to stay . . .”
“I may like to hear that argument,” Myriah murmured, and then she whimpered a little as one dark hand came forward to cup her breast.
***
The next time Myriah came to herself, it was close to four in the morning, and she had been sleeping the best she had in almost three years. Despite that, however, the gentle chimes of her phone brought her out of a deep sleep, and she had to blink a few times before she remembered, well, everything that had happened.
She was snugged in bed with the man who had changed her life three years ago, naked as the day she was born. His heavy arm was thrown over hip, and in the dark, she could hear his soft breathing.
Well, I suppose he’s tired after what we did in the window . . . and then in the bath . . . and then we sort of went over again when we finally made it to bed . . .
Myriah felt both as though she could sleep for a year and like she wanted to run around the block a few times. There was something inside her that was intensely satisfied, incredibly excited, and she had to tell that part to hush as she made her way carefully out of the dark room and into the living room where she had left her purse.
She picked up the phone, smiling at the texts that came up.
Heya big sis!
Just chiming in for our evening download.
As you can see from the pics, everyone is happy, clean, and fed.
Hopefully I’m going to be able to get them into bed without a problem, but you know how it is, they just want Mama . . .
Myriah deliberated with herself for a moment, and then with a glance back at the closed bedroom door, she made a fast decision.
He’s probably sleeping like the dead right now. At least, that’s what he always used to do when we had done what we just did.
Dressed in the white T-shirt she had stolen from Halil’s dresser drawer, Myriah went to stand close to the glass window where she and Halil had so recently made love, her finger stabbing at the most-called number on her phone.
Rose picked up after just two rings.
“Heya, Myriah. I was hoping you’d get my message.”
“Aww. Are the girls being fussy?”
“You know how it is. Leah is already drowsy, but Mina and Katie are still as bouncy as rubber balls.”
“All right. Can you put me on video with them?”
“Gladly!”
Myriah knew that it was bad form to laugh at Rose’s evident relief, but there was also a part of her that felt an odd little satisfaction that her babies needed her, that despite how much easier this adjustment had gotten, they still missed her when she was gone. She told herself that it was her way of making herself feel better for the ache of being without them.
It was what she had, anyway. Then an invitation to a video chat came up on her phone, and Myriah forgot about nearly everything else.
Rose steadied her tablet turned it toward the cribs. As Rose had promised, there was one toddler already on her belly, drowsily waving at the world, and two more who seemed intent on squabbling over a stuffed toy pigeon.
“Hey girls!”
All three toddlers turned towards the camera, and Mina cheered while Katie clapped her hands. Leah pulled herself up with her sisters, her soft brown eyes wide and wondering.
“Mama, Mama!” came the chorus, and no matter how far away or how well-adjusted she tried to pretend she was to all of this, Myriah felt her heart clench a little.
God, I can’t be home fast enough.
“Hi babies! Hi sweet little babies!”
There was a rush of childish laughter and babbling. There were three soft and very beloved baby faces pushed up against the tablet, blobby in the dim light of their room.
They babbled at her for a few moments, and then Myriah started to get them calmed down, telling them she would be home soon, letting them know that it would be just fine. She would be back and there would be so many hugs for her good little girls.
Something about her voice seemed to help, and when she asked if they wanted a song, there was a chorus of yeses.
“All right, but you need to lie down, okay, sweeties? You need to get a lot of rest so you can grow up to be big, strong girls . . .”
And also so Rose can get some sleep. Poor Rose, she’s really not ready for any of this, is she?
When all three were lying down (even Katie who wanted to pop up at the least provocation), Myriah cleared her throat and started to sing.
The song was an old one, an English nonsen
se song about all the world the girls would get to see, from pumpkin moons to amber seas, to the little cats that danced in the weeds. It was a song that Myriah only sang when the girls were going to sleep, and though Rose would try, it never had similar results for her.
On the first chorus, the girls quieted, and by the fourth one, they were breathing easily. It was a light sleep, but it would deepen, and with any luck, they wouldn’t wake up until dawn.
Silently, moving as silent as a cloud over the moon, Rose shut off the tablet, and then there was a text on Myriah’s phone.
Thanks so much. I thought it might be another hour before they were properly asleep.
No problem at all! Thank you so much for doing this. Just another few days!
Haha, yeah! Are you having a good time out there? Are you having lots of good food and good work?
Myriah started to answer her sister, but then something made her look up.
Standing across the room, his face a mask, was Halil.
I have to go. See you soon!
As she turned to face Halil, she dearly hoped that she was telling her sister the truth.
Chapter Six
Halil
When Halil had awakened to an empty bed, at first he had no idea what was setting off alarms in his head. He’d had several assignations with women over the last few years, some better than others, but there were none who he had ever really wanted to spend the night with.
Then his memories came rushing back, and yes, it was time to admit it, everything was different with Myriah.
He had never thought of her as the one who got away. He would have said that he had never thought of her all that much at all, but that would have been a lie. There was some part of Halil that had never moved on from that brief time they had spent together in London; something in him clung to her memory with a tenacity which bordered on obsession.
When he had padded out across the living room to find her, it was because some part of his half-awake brain was afraid she had just been a figment of his imagination. Then he had heard her talking, and it felt as though his heart had stopped beating.
The first thing he felt was a confused jealousy, and then his more logical brain had kicked in.
She had certainly not had children when she was in London. When he heard the laughter and baby talk of the children on her phone, he realized something right then and there with a chill that made him stand up straight up as if he had been shocked.
Those were young children, and he remembered what Myriah had revealed at dinner. She hadn’t been with another man.
Those were his children.
Halil had never considered what his reaction would be in a situation like this, but the first thing he dealt with as Myriah sang her song was a tide of overwhelming possessive joy. He’d never considered children much beyond the fact that his ministers were constantly asking him to consider the idea of a wife and heirs for the country, but now that he was forced to acknowledge the reality. He was filled with joy and pride and a need that pulled at him as nothing else in the world ever had.
This joy and pride was soon followed by a protective outrage Halil knew he needed to swallow.
Myriah was texting when she turned, but when she laid eyes on him, it felt as though she had been turned to stone.
For a long moment, they only stared at each other. There was no way to tell what she thought was happening; Halil was barely aware of what he thought was happening himself. All he knew was that he needed to get to the bottom of all of this.
There was no good way to start, none at all, and when he spoke, he wasn’t quite sure what he was saying.
“When I woke up, you were gone.”
Whatever she had been expecting, it was not that.
“My phone went off. I wasn’t thinking about it at all.” She smiled, a little surprised at herself. “I don’t think I’ve forgotten about that particular daily ritual since I’ve come to Ealim.”
“Ritual? Tell me about it.”
It was easier to speak like this, without accusation and without the anger that was beginning to bubble under his voice. He came to sit next to her on the couch, and he was slightly gratified by the fact that she didn’t pull away.
“This is only my second trip out of the country since . . . since the girls were born,” Myriah said with a soft laugh. “And before, that was just a four-day trip to Canada. That time, they barely noticed I was gone before I came back.”
“I’m sure they noticed.”
Myriah made a face, half-amused, half-self-deprecating.
“Yeah, they probably did, honestly. But I was back pretty soon, and they were a little clingy for a day or so, even Katie, who I’m pretty sure is going to want her own apartment by the time she’s eight . . . but that’s neither here nor there.
“This trip’s been going on for almost ten days, and it’ll be a full two weeks by the time I get back, and the thing that’s actually been the hardest is the time change. There’s really no great time for us to call and catch up, not when I’m checking out possible venues for my bosses, and not when Rose wants to take the girls on just about every enrichment activity she can find online . . .”
“Rose?”
“My little sister. She’s taking a year off of school and staying with me in Boston, so she’s picking up kid-sitting duties in exchange for room, board, and the chance to make fun of my clothing whenever she needs to raid my closet for a date.”
Halil found himself smiling at Myriah’s half-fond, half-exasperated description of her sister. He had grown up as an only child, and now it occurred to him that his daughters would never know that particular kind of loneliness.
“Myriah . . .”
“Anyway, I knew from the beginning that I really didn’t want to be in the dark about the three of them while I was in Ealim, and honestly, some of it is that I just miss them so damn much So I get a text around about four, right when it’s about bedtime for them, and then I say my goodnight and we all go back to bed.”
“That’s kind of you.”
“Ha, sure, that’s a great thing to think. Sometimes . . . sometimes I feel that I’m so far away from them it makes me want to cry, and I just can’t take that . . .” She shook her head. “It sounds silly, doesn’t it?”
“Not at all. Myriah. Those three girls . . . who is their father?”
If he hadn’t been mostly sure while he had listened to her make her call, the stricken look on her face would have told him.
In a moment, that look on her face was replaced by an expression of pure protective rage.
“They are my children, Halil, you are not going to do anything to take them away from me . . . !”
Halil could feel the emotions that he had forcibly tamped down rising up again. He had wanted to handle this delicately, using all of the diplomatic finesse he had learned in his years as sheikh, but when it came to this woman, when it came to this situation, apparently that was all going to go straight out the window.
“Tell me, Myriah,” he growled. “Tell me right the hell now.”
“You don’t get to give me orders!”
She spun away from him, marching back to the bedroom to find what was left of her clothing, but he grabbed her by the arm, pulling her back to him.
“Don’t you dare leave me with nothing more than that!”
They both froze, and at the same time Halil realized he should be incredibly ashamed of himself for being so rough with her, with any woman for that matter, Myriah’s face crumpled, revealing something almost achingly vulnerable underneath.
“We’re . . . we’re not thinking straight,” she said, her voice admirably steady.
“No, we’re not, and I’m acting like a barbarian.”
He let go of her arm with reluctance, and he winced when he saw the red marks where his fingers had been. “Myriah, I’m so sorry . . . “
“Don’t. It’s all right. We are not thinking straight and honestly, we might need some sleep before we have t
his out. Because I think we need to have this out, don’t we?”
“Yes. We do.”
Myriah took a deep breath.
“Then . . . if we can, let’s get some sleep. We’re both going to be in a better place to discuss this tomorrow, won’t we?”
The last thing that Halil wanted to do was to put this off even another moment, but reluctantly, he had to agree that it was probably a good idea. The entire night had been charged, something that felt almost magical beyond belief. They both needed time to draw back, to consider a little.
“Yes, you’re right. Come on. Let’s go lie down.”
To his shock, Myriah hesitated.
“Should we . . . should we continue sharing the same room?”
After he managed to get a thousand and one rampaging thoughts under control, Halil finally trusted himself enough to speak.
“Yes, Myriah, I do. I just found you again after three years. I will not . . . no. I don’t want to sleep apart.”
He saw something flicker through her eyes, something so fast it was impossible to parse correctly. All that mattered, however, was that she nodded.
“I think . . . I think I feel the same way.”
Then, almost as though she was afraid of what might open up between them, what further surprises and revelations might be waiting, she turned and walked back to the room and the bed that they had shared. For some reason, her choosing to stay with him rather than choosing a guest room for herself made him breathe a silent sigh of relief. The idea of having her away from him hurt for some strange reason.
After sending a brief text, Halil went to join Myriah in bed.
Chapter Seven
Myriah
When Myriah awoke, she was almost surprised by how rested she felt. A quick check of her phone showed her it was only eight in the morning, but she was done with sleep.
Next to her, Halil mumbled, still deep in slumber, and after a moment, she laid a gentle kiss on his forehead, smiling at the way he stirred before he went still again.
