by Marie Tuhart
His touch sent shivers of anticipation through her veins. “Nope. I just know how it feels for a kid to feel isolated and alone.” While her circumstances had been different than the other kids and Zain, the emotions they experienced were universal.
“I disagree.” Malik guided her out of the room to where Samir waited in the hallway. “Zain hasn’t responded to anyone since his parents’ deaths. He won’t let the nurses hold him, yet he allowed you not only to hold him, he cuddled into your embrace, and he smiled at you. That is nothing short of a miracle.” His voice was full of pride.
Her heart raced, and while she wanted to attribute it to his words, it was more from Malik’s touch, his closeness, than anything else.
“Can you tell me what happened to Zain?” She needed to distract herself from how Malik was making her feel.
“I’ll explain on the way home.” He guided her down the hallway. “Did you eat today? Samir said you spent most of the day with the children.”
Samir glanced over his shoulder and gave her a grin. “Yes. Samir was kind enough to get me some food.”
“Good, we can’t have the children’s favorite artist going hungry.” Samir pushed open the glass doors, and they made their way to the waiting car. Catherine was grateful there was no press around.
Once they were seated in the car, she turned to Malik. “So, tell me about Zain.”
“It’s a tragic story.” He relaxed back against the leather, staring at her.
Catherine crossed her arms over her breasts and stared right back at him. “You and Hassan seem to be under the assumption I’m some sort of fragile flower who can’t understand trauma. Trust me, I understand.” More than she ever wanted to. Part of her wanted to blurt out Jamie’s story, but she held back. She wanted to know about Zain, not relive Jamie’s death.
Malik nodded. “Zain’s father killed his mother.”
A gasp escaped her lips. Malik’s eyes turned grim. How bad was this story going to be? Her instincts told her very bad. “Poor kid.”
“No one is really sure what happened that night. We do know that Zain’s mother was dead before the fire started.”
“The fire that caused his burns?”
“Yes.” Malik’s gaze skittered away, and Catherine closed her hand over his clenched fist. She hated that retelling this story affected him so much. “From what we can determine,” he continued, “Zain’s father set the fire to cover up his crime, not caring he was about to kill his sleeping son.”
“Oh, dear Lord.” She could only imagine what Zain had gone through. Her fingernails on her free hand bit into her palm.
“Thankfully, a neighbor saw the flames and was able to pull Zain to safety, but not before he saw his father die.”
“Oh, Malik.” She tried to stop the rush of tears, but couldn’t. They spilled down her cheeks.
“Shh, don’t cry.” He slid an arm around her and gathered her to him.
Catherine nestled against his chest, pain for Zain filling her. “He’s just a baby. How could anyone do that?”
“I don’t know.” He ran his hands over her back in a soothing motion. “Children are our most precious gift and should be protected.”
“Yes, they should be.” She sniffled, finally controlling her tears.
“I happened to be in town when this happened. I arrived at the house right after the fire department. Zain was just sitting there staring at the house. I gathered him up and took him to the hospital. He never cried as Hassan tended to his hands.” He lifted her chin up and stared into her eyes. “I’ve made it a point to visit Zain every day, to try and get him to come out of the shell he’s built around himself. That’s why Zain reacting to you is a miracle in my book.”
Catherine basked in the warmth of his gaze. He didn’t shy away from her tears like Jamie had. Instead, he embraced her, allowed her to get her emotions out. She lifted her hand and cupped his cheek in her palm. “You are a special man.”
Gold flashed in his eyes, his head dipped, and the car stopped. Catherine bit her lip, trying to hide a smile as Malik swore softly. Then a grin curved his lips.
“We’ll continue this later,” he said, as the door opened.
9
Later that evening, Catherine sat in her room, putting the finishing touches on a couple of sketches, when her mobile phone rang.
A smile swept over her lips when she glanced at the caller ID. “Hi, Sara.”
“Hey, there, are you busy?”
“No, what’s up?” Catherine set her sketchbook aside.
“Well, want to tell me about the pictures popping up in the tabloids of you and a certain crown prince kissing?”
Oh, hell, the paparazzi were busy. Catherine let out a sigh and shook her head. “I can’t believe it’s already in the tabloids back home.”
“Plastered on every front page. Why didn’t you tell me there were pictures?”
“I didn’t know there were any until they came out.” She shifted in her seat. This was the last thing she wanted, her name in the press. And dang if it didn’t prove Malik was right about the paparazzi following her, even if she did go back to Britain.
“I’m sure this will die down,” Sara said in a soothing tone.
“Like I believe that one.” Catherine rubbed her forehead. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t known this was a possibility when she’d seen the photos herself, she’d only hoped … what? The press wouldn’t go after a big payday? The likelihood of that was a trillion to one.
“Well, let’s forget about them. Tell me, how did your first day at the hospital go?”
A grin formed on her lips. “Oh, Sara, it was good, but heartbreaking at the same time. The kids are so cute and friendly. And there is this one little boy, Zain. The poor guy was caught in a fire. He’s so adorable.”
“Sounds like you’re already half in love with Zain.”
“I probably am.” Catherine laughed. Sara was well aware of Catherine’s work with the children’s cancer hospital.
“You brighten up the world for these kids. I’m so glad you accepted this job, Catherine.”
“I am too.” Even with the paparazzi and everything else, seeing the smile on Zain’s face today made it worth it.
“Good. Well, I just wanted to check in with you. I’ve got to get moving and get ready for work.”
“Don’t let that Dr. Doom get to you,” she said, using the nurses’ nickname for the doctor they all hated working with.
Sara laughed. “I won’t. Talk to you soon.”
Catherine hit the end button and set her phone on top of her sketchbook. Her mind wandered back to earlier. After she and Malik had arrived back at the palace, he’d been pulled away by his minister of information. She had gone to her room to get ready for dinner.
Dinner had been quiet, with everyone discussing their day. It was one thing about the royal family that impressed her. A family dinner every night. Not everyone was there all the time, but Anna told Catherine she’d made it a point when the boys were growing up that they all have dinner together and discuss their day.
As her sons had grown into adults, they’d kept the practice up. Tonight, only Malik and Khalid were at the table. Hassan was at the hospital, and Rafi was off somewhere.
A knock on her balcony doors startled her out of her thoughts. She walked over and slid the curtain aside. Malik stood there grinning at her. Catherine unlocked the door, and he pulled it open.
“What are you doing?”
“I promised we’d continue what we started in the car.” He pulled the door closed behind him.
“By sneaking in my balcony doors?” Anticipation slithered up her spine.
“This way we won’t be disturbed.” He glanced around the room. “What have you been working on?”
“Ummm.” She backed up and her face grew warm. Damn, she needed to get to her sketchbook. She lunged for it, but Malik was already there lifting it from the table. “No,” Catherine protested.
“What is it, little one?” He didn’t
let go of her sketchpad. “What are you afraid I’ll see?”
He flipped the book open.
Catherine groaned and let her hands drop. She backed up a step as he flipped from page to page. Closing her eyes, she reviewed the drawings she’d done. One of Zain, then one of some trees in the garden, then … argh.
Malik had her so wound up, she’d began sketching out various kinky scenes and toys. His deep intake of breath had her opening her eyes. He was staring at her, not her sketchpad. Oh, this wasn’t going to be good.
Malik blinked several times, almost not believing what he was seeing. Catherine was kinky. He almost didn’t dare to believe it. But, as they say, a picture is worth a thousand words. Hers were worth millions.
He stopped when he saw the drawing of him holding a flogger, standing over a woman tied to a bed. His groin tightened, and he let out a breath before lifting his head.
Their gazes clashed. Wariness shone from her eyes, her shoulders back, as if preparing herself for a blow. “These are quite good,” he whispered.
Her eyes widened. “Thank you.”
“Let’s sit down.”
“Let’s not.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Those sketches weren’t meant for you to see.”
He wasn’t conveying his feelings right. Since when had it meant so much to him to do so? A long time. Most didn’t understand the mental toll it took to be crown prince. Having control in the bedroom allowed him to let go of everything but giving a woman pleasure. It allowed him to be a man and not the crown prince.
Her images stimulated and touched on a truth he kept hidden. Yes, he liked to restrain his lovers, use various toys on them. His lovemaking was never rough or hurtful, just a bit forceful. Catherine hadn’t done these drawings for his benefit. He flipped her sketchpad shut and set it back on the table.
“I’m not angry, Catherine. I’m intrigued.” There was a spark between them, one he fully intended to explore. Knowing she was interested in kink pushed the spark to a fire. A fire that burned low and hot in his belly.
“What?” Her head tilted to the side.
“Come.” He took her hand and drew her over to the small sofa. He sat and then pulled her down beside him, not releasing her wrist.
“Malik,” she protested, and started to rise.
“Stay still.” He used his deep voice to command her. She stopped and her head snapped up. The surprise in her face almost made him smile. “Tell me, how kinky are you?”
“Should we really be having this conversation?” She tried to tug her arm away.
“Yes.” He didn’t tighten his hold, but he didn’t release her, either. “I’ll admit I enjoy restraining my partner.” Color flooded her cheeks. “Ah, I see that excites you. So your interest isn’t just artistic?”
“Oh, lord, Malik,” she whispered.
“Do you enjoy being restrained?” He wasn’t going to let her hide. Anticipation flowed through his veins. If she was kinky, they could have so much fun in the bedroom. They were already very compatible from the kisses they had shared; if she enjoyed a little domination in the bedroom, that would be icing on the cake. “Answer me, Catherine.”
“Yes, I like it.” She shook her head. “This isn’t the conversation I pictured having with you.” Her shoulders drooped.
“It’s one I’m glad we’re having.” He released her wrist and settled back against the sofa, watching her. “Tell me more.”
“There’s not much to tell; you saw the pictures.”
Yes, he had. His groin tightened, and his dick pressed against the fabric of his trousers. “I saw several beautiful drawings. One of handcuffs, another of a flogger, then a bed with a shadowed figure, and finally a bare-chested man standing over the bed with a flogger.”
As he spoke, Catherine squirmed in her seat. Was she excited? He studied her carefully. Yes, her breathing was a bit rapid, her eyes wide, and more than her cheeks were flushed.
“I … ” She shook her head.
“I’m not offended.” Malik raised his hand and trailed his fingers up her arm, caressing her soft skin.
“If you were, we wouldn’t be talking. You would have walked out.”
There was a note of bitterness in her voice. Had someone walked out on her because of a little kink? “Tell me, Catherine, do you want to be that woman on the bed in your drawings?”
She took a shaky breath, then said, “Yes.”
He grinned. She was being honest with him, and it made him proud. This woman was his match, even if she didn’t believe it yet. “Good.” He chose his next words carefully. “Have you been in a relationship with kink in the bedroom?”
She shook her head. “I’ve only read about it.”
Malik cupped her chin and raised her face so their gazes met. “While you may find this hard to believe, I’m only dominant in the bedroom.” Catherine giggled and he tried to frown at her, but instead he grinned. “Okay, I am outside as well, but that comes with my job.”
Her eyes darkened, and Malik cursed himself for bringing up his crown prince status. “I haven’t been in a relationship for more than two years now.” He wanted her to know that he wasn’t going to hold back from her.
“Why do I find that hard to believe?”
Another grin slid over his lips. “Being the crown prince does come with some disadvantages.” He wasn’t going to lie to her. “There will be scrutiny of our relationship.”
“A reason to keep kink in the bedroom.”
“Yes.” She understood him, which was a plus. “I know this might be hard to understand, but it helps me center myself. To let go of the day’s events and concentrate on the one thing I know I’m good at. Pleasing my woman.”
“Arrogant much?”
Malik dipped his head until his lips brushed her cheek. “You have no idea.”
“I bet I do.” She relaxed into his embrace.
“Are you willing to explore with me, Catherine?” Her silence ate at his soul as he cradled her close to him.
“Yes, I am.” Her words were soft and quiet.
“Then we will explore together. I will never hurt you and will always stop when you tell me to.”
She inhaled and then released her breath. “Thank you.”
Malik held her in his arms, just allowing them both time to absorb what they’d talked about, but also because it felt good to have her in his arms.
10
Saturday morning, Malik glanced up from the newspaper he was reading as Catherine entered the breakfast room. He folded the paper and set it down.
During the last week they hadn’t had much time alone because of his royal duties. He looked forward to escorting her to and from the hospital. However, his minister of information, Omar, had unknowingly delayed the opportunity to explore his passion for Catherine. Each day, Omar insisted on accompanying him to go over state matters while he was waiting for Catherine.
While he could tell Omar their talks could wait, he didn’t. His father expected him to be available to any and all of the ministers to discuss Bashir. Luckily, Catherine didn’t seem to mind. She wasn’t a woman who needed mindless chatter. She was content to sit and watch the scenery on the drive. But he paid close attention to her and her facial expressions.
She listened in on the matters of state his minister relayed to him and his responses. At times she’d smile or display an occasional frown, and sometimes she’d give little shakes of her head. In a way it made him feel better about the job he was doing as crown prince. He enjoyed her input; it meant she was taking their, albeit fake, engagement seriously.
He rose to his feet. “Good morning,” he greeted Catherine.
“Sit down.” She waved her hand at him, but he waited until she was seated before resuming his.
She poured a cup of coffee, adding cream and sugar before taking a sip. Her eyes closed, and a sigh of bliss left her lips. She’d told him the other day she didn’t feel human until she had a cup. Even on the days she was running behind, she had a tr
avel mug filled with coffee.
“So, what is on the agenda for today?” he asked.
“I’ve arranged for Samir to take me into Bashir City. I want to explore and get a better feeling for Bashir.”
“That sounds like a good idea. I should have offered to do that earlier.”
She shook her head. “You’ve been busy, and it’s been good for me to spend time at the hospital with the children. I’ve gotten their ideas; now it’s time to soak up the local flavor, so to speak.”
“What time are we leaving?”
She stared at him, a frown settling between her eyebrows. “I’m leaving after breakfast.”
Malik didn’t miss her speaking in the singular, and he hid a smile. If she thought she was going to get away from him that easily, she was sadly mistaken. She buttered two pieces of toast and put some fruit on her plate.
“You’ll need more food than that if you’re going to be sightseeing all day.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“You don’t need to watch your weight, if that’s what you’re worried about.” His gaze raked her from head to toe.
She glared before taking a bite of her toast, then chewed and swallowed. “My figure has nothing to do with it.”
“Good. Because I intend to explore your curves, each and every one of them.”
Color swept up her neck into her cheeks, but she didn’t answer him. Not that he expected an answer; he wanted her as hot and bothered as he was.
“Do you want some eggs or bacon?” he asked, motioning to the covered dishes on the sidebar.
“No, I’m fine with this. I’m not a big breakfast eater. Why are we discussing my eating habits?”
“I want to make sure you have enough energy for our day.” He waited to see how she would react.
“Our what?” She dropped her piece of toast and stared at him.
Malik fought grinning. He liked putting her off balance. She was less likely to fight him that way. While she’d turned down the fake engagement, he’d convince her it was the way to go, but first they needed to spend some quality time together. “I’m going to be your escort today.” He stood. “I need to go arrange our transportation.”
