by Kim Lawrence
“It wouldn’t be easy, I grant you. But if there were a child, it would be ours. And I would want it.”
She looked so fierce that he believed her. The relief winding through him was stronger than he would have believed possible. And he felt a sudden need to explain, to share with her what he’d never told anyone else.
“My second wife aborted our child. She did not tell me she was pregnant.”
Genie’s eyes widened. “I’m so sorry, Zafir. You must have been very upset.”
“I was. Layla felt she was too young to start a family, though she failed to share this belief with me.”
She had also been worried about her figure, her shopping trips abroad, and her social events, where she was determined to be the most elegant hostess anyone in Bah’shar had ever seen. When she’d gone to Europe for the abortion he’d thought she was going on another shopping trip. He’d only found out because she’d been stupid enough to use a credit card and he’d opened the bill before she could intercept it. The moment when he’d realized what the charge was for had been like a sucker punch to the gut.
Genie put her arms around him and squeezed. He fell back on the cushions with her, his heart hammering with fear, and turned his head toward her, breathed in the sweet, clean scent of her hair.
She smelled like home, felt like home. He could think of nothing better than watching her grow big with his child. Nothing better than having her in his bed every night.
“I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about,” she said softly, “but if I’m wrong, this is your child too. We’ll figure out what comes next when we have to.”
“Yes, we’ll figure it out,” he replied on a sigh of weariness. It had been a long, long day.
He closed his eyes. What he needed right now was sleep. And he needed to be here with this woman.
It felt right.
He was drifting off when she whispered in his ear, “Sleep, Zafir.”
She said something else, but he wasn’t quite certain what it was.
Right before he fell asleep, he realized what it had sounded like: I love you.
Sometime in the night they got chilled and moved into the bedroom, burrowing beneath the thick covers on the bed. Genie lay in the dark, listening to Zafir’s deep breathing. She was in so much trouble here. In two days’ time her life had been turned inside out by the past she’d tried to forget.
She still loved him, and she couldn’t deny it. And, though she really didn’t believe she could fall pregnant, the slight chance had her mind working overtime. What would happen if she had his baby?
He’d said he would provide for their child. But he wasn’t going to offer to marry her. He was the King of Bah’shar and he could never do so.
But would he be a part of their child’s life? Or would he, like her father, be absent and distant?
Genie didn’t believe Zafir would ignore their child on purpose. He would not be like her father. But his royal duties and his future wife—because, yes, a king needed legitimate heirs—would most likely keep him away.
Genie shifted in the bed, trying to shove her tumultuous thoughts away. There was nothing to worry about yet. She would cross that bridge when she reached it. “Can’t sleep?”
“Not well,” she admitted. “You?”
“I was sleeping fine, but you kept moving.”
“Sorry.”
She heard him yawn. “You are worried about being pregnant?”
“I was thinking about it, yes. But I don’t really believe it will happen.”
“You will not have to worry, Genie.”
“No, but I think I’ll have to worry every day of my life if there’s a child. That’s just what mothers do.” She turned toward him on the bed, propped herself on an elbow. “I’m sorry about what happened with your second wife, Zafir.”
“It was a long time ago.”
She bit her lip, decided to proceed. “What happened in your first marriage?”
Zafir did not pretend to misunderstand what she was asking him. He let out a deep sigh. “Jasmin had difficulty conceiving. When she did conceive, she couldn’t carry past the first trimester.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“There were three miscarriages. She was depressed, though I did not realize it, and she swallowed pills. It is my fault she died. I should have forced her into treatment.”
Sadness ripped through her. “How could you know she would do such a thing?”
“I should have known. She was impulsive, and she made threats. I didn’t take her seriously until I came home late and found her unconscious.” He sighed into the darkness. “I wasn’t supposed to be late that day. I think she wanted to be found, that it was a cry for help. But I failed her.”
My God. Genie’s eyes filled with tears. How could he take such a burden on himself? But she already knew the answer: he was a good man who took his duty seriously, be it the duty of a king or a husband. Or even a lover.
“If there’s one thing I learned growing up,” she said very softly, “it’s that we aren’t responsible for the actions of others. My mother and I both suffered because she wouldn’t—or couldn’t—get herself out of the situation with my father, but that wasn’t my fault. It took me a long time to understand that.”
“I knew Jasmin was unstable. I should have realized she would eventually go through with her threats.”
Genie grasped his hand in hers. It was big, warm, and he squeezed his fingers closed around her hand. The grip was firm, reassuring, but not too hard. A wave of love and longing rocked through her.
“No one is to blame but her, Zafir. I’m sorry if that sounds harsh, but she is responsible for making that choice, not you.”
“If I’d been home when expected—”
“You could have stopped her that time, but what about the next? Maybe she could have been helped with treatment, but there are no guarantees. You’re wrong to blame yourself.”
He pulled her hand to his lips. “You have grown wise, Dr. Gray. Thank you for your words, though I am certain I will always feel guilty about what happened.”
“That’s your right, Zafir.” It made her sad that he would take so much on himself, and sad for his poor wife. It also made her feel badly for resenting Jasmin for so long. She’d been caught up in the marital politics of her people as much as Zafir had been. And producing an heir had no doubt been paramount to that marriage. When she hadn’t been able to do so, she must have felt so desperate.
Genie burrowed in closer, wrapped her arms around him. Her heart was a lost cause and it did no good to try and keep her distance. She would take whatever time she had with him while it lasted.
He stroked the skin of her bare back, his fingers dipping farther and farther down her spine each time. Liquid heat filled her veins, but she would not act on it. This was about comfort, not sex.
Until he shifted and she realized he was fully aroused. “Wait a minute,” he said, leaving the bed and then returning before she’d had a chance to miss his heat. She heard the rip of foil, and then he was on top of her, pressing inside her slick body while she moaned her pleasure to the heavens above.
They’d had a few days of bliss, but Zafir knew it would have to end. The problem was that he didn’t want to let her go. That having her here seemed like the most important thing in the world. With Genie in his life, his bed, his heart, he faced each day with the determination and strength he needed to make Bah’shar better than ever.
She made this life that had been thrust upon him make sense. He’d married twice, out of duty, but he’d never felt as if he’d had a connection with either of his wives. Why did he feel this connection with a woman he could never have?
He could never ask her to give up her life for him—not now. She was a professional, successful woman. And he was still required to marry and produce heirs for the throne.
But why couldn’t he marry her? She could still do her work, and she would come home to him each night. She’d said the temples could tak
e years…
“Your Majesty?”
Zafir shook himself. The men gathered around the conference table were staring at him.
“Please repeat that,” he said smoothly. The meeting continued, and Zafir worked to concentrate on what was being said. After nearly fifteen minutes of circular logic, his mind drifted once more.
He couldn’t stop picturing Genie in a traditional Bah’sharan bridal gown.
Though Bah’sharan law did not allow for a foreign wife who was not a princess, the law was old and could be changed. It had been meant to protect the throne from overthrow, but that was not so much an issue in today’s world.
It wouldn’t be easy, and there would no doubt be much grumbling and arguing amongst his ministers, but changing the code was possible. The idea galvanized him.
Raised voices brought him sharply back to the present. Sheikh Abu Bakr had gone to stand by a window with his back to the group. Sheikh Hassan sat with his arms crossed and a militant expression on his face. Zafir’s ministers looked exasperated.
Zafir had had enough for now.
“Let us take a break,” he interjected. “I will return in an hour’s time, and I expect you all to be here, ready to talk.”
He stood. Everyone in the room shot to their feet and bowed. Zafir turned and strode out the door. There was just enough time to see Genie, maybe have a little lunch with her. He wouldn’t tell her about his idea just yet. It was too new, and he was still too uncertain it was the correct path. His heart believed it was, but his head needed time to adjust.
There was a shortcut to the harem and he took it, passing down long dark corridors that were rarely used anymore. He was excited about the idea of changing the code, about talking Genie into marrying him and staying in Bah’shar, but he was torn as well. Though it felt like the best solution for him personally, was it best for his people? For his nation?
As he passed a dark alcove, a sharp pain sliced across his arm. Zafir spun as something flashed silver in the dim light. All his senses were on high alert as the assassin’s knife descended again.
“Die, traitor,” a voice breathed as the knife plunged home.
CHAPTER NINE
GENIE was in the library, researching the Temples of Al-Shahar, when two men in dark clothes burst in. She recognized them as being on Zafir’s security team from the Uzis slung across their chests and the microphones in their ears. She didn’t even realize she’d gotten to her feet until they crashed to a halt in front of her.
“You will come with us,” one of the men said.
“Where are we going?” She’d faced menacing characters before in her line of work, but these two made her heart pound a little harder than usual. Perhaps because they were part of the team that ensured Zafir’s safety. If they were here, was something wrong? Was there danger?
A tremor of apprehension snaked along her spine.
“The hospital.”
“But what has happened?” she said as they hustled her toward the exit.
One of the men looked down at her with a grave expression. “The King has been stabbed.”
Zafir winced as the doctor probed at the wound.
“You are lucky, Your Majesty,” he said. “It’s only a flesh wound.”
Yes, but one that hurt like hell. And one that he would not have gotten had he not been distracted by thoughts of the woman he’d been in a hurry to see again.
“A few stitches and it will heal nicely,” the doctor continued as he finished his examination.
The man went to get his supplies and Zafir turned to the guard who stood silently by.
“Is she here yet?”
“They are bringing her now, Majesty.”
A moment later the door burst open and Genie rushed in. He was no longer surprised at the kick in the gut he felt when he saw her, but he pushed it down deep and put a lid on it. She was pale and her cheeks were tear-streaked. He took in her puffy eyes, her red nose, and felt a pang of guilt.
He had to let her go. For her safety. Until the moment he’d been attacked he hadn’t stopped to think how his people might react to a Western woman as their queen. There were those who would never accept it. Though it made him want to howl in frustration to be forced to give up happiness just when he’d thought he might have found it, he had to do so.
For her. What he wanted didn’t matter when contrasted with the risk to her life.
Because who was to say that she would not be the target of an assassination attempt at some point? She would be resented by those who didn’t want change, and she might draw the wrath of extremist groups.
He could not allow that. Not ever.
“Zafir,” she gasped, rushing over to him. She stopped short when she saw the bloody wound on his arm. Then her gaze lifted to his. Her voice wavered. “They said you’d been hurt.”
Not as hurt as the assassin he’d disarmed. “I am fine, Genie. It’s not serious.”
He wanted to hold her, reassure her. But he would not. Keeping his arms at his sides was one of the toughest things he’d ever had to do.
“Do you know who did it?” Her eyes were huge pools of rainwater gray and tears trembled on the brink of her lashes.
“Oh, yes. The conspirators will be dealt with, I assure you.” Once the would-be assassin had realized he’d failed, he’d spilled his guts to the police.
Zafir said a quiet word to the bodyguard. The man went to stand outside the door.
Once he was gone, Genie reached for Zafir’s hand. “I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you—”
“Genie,” he cut in before she could say more. He must have spoken sharply because she fell quiet instantly. He squeezed her hand before letting it go. How could he do this? How could he send away the only bit of happiness he’d ever known? He drew in a painful breath. “I am sending you back to your camp.”
She bit her lip, confusion playing across her expressive face. Her guard was down and every emotion she felt was there to read in detail. It pained him to look at her, but he would not look away.
“Now? Today?”
He nodded. “You have fulfilled your end of the bargain, and I will fulfill mine. You are free to go. Yusuf will give you all you need for contacting the proper authorities for the excavation. They will be told to cooperate fully.”
She looked stunned. “I… I… Why, Zafir? Why now?”
His heart was a lead ball in his chest. “It is time.”
“Does this mean you’ve concluded your negotiations with the Sheikhs?”
“Yes,” he said. “It is done.” Done because one of their number had tried to kill him in order to frame the other group for murder. The leaders were so horrified they would now do anything to demonstrate their loyalty. And he meant to take advantage of it.
“That’s good. Congratulations.”
“There is much work yet to be done, and you have served your purpose.” She winced when he said that, and he mentally kicked himself for it. “I can ask no more of you.”
“Is this your revenge?” she asked. “Making me care for you again and then sending me away?”
The words pierced him. For a brief moment he thought it might be easier to let her believe that, but he couldn’t do it.
“No, Genie, this is not revenge. We are two different people now, from two different worlds, and it’s time we got back to them.”
She took a deep breath. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. I—” She swallowed “It was great to see you again.”
“I enjoyed our time together.” A hard lump had formed in his throat and made it difficult to speak. He ignored it. Letting her go was right. For her, for him. She didn’t belong here, and he needed to get back to the business of governing his kingdom.
He thought of her swollen with his child. It nearly overwhelmed his will to release her. “I trust you, Genie. You will tell me if there is a child?”
“Of course,” she said, all business. “I would never keep that information a secret from you.”
“Yusuf will give you my private number. Call me when you know.”
She nodded. “Absolutely. If that’s all, then? The sooner I get back to camp, the sooner I can get to work again.”
She stood stiffly, like a soldier. Even her hands had disappeared behind her back. He imagined her clasping them together with military precision. She was already leaving him in her mind. How easily she returned to the life she’d led before.
Perhaps his had been the only heart affected after all.
“Goodbye, Genie.”
“Goodbye, Zafir.” And then she was gone.
First came numbness. Then shock. Then anger. Then resignation.
When Zafir decided to get rid of her, he certainly did it in style. A helicopter waited on the pad at the palace. Genie took one last look behind her before she climbed in, her heart aching. Did she really think he would suddenly appear and ask her to stay?
She shook her head, wondering how a few days with him had so thoroughly undermined the foundations of her life. She was a respected archaeologist and researcher, and the sooner she got back to that life, the better.
As the craft lifted off, she kept her eyes on the glittering domes of the palace. It was like something out of a fairytale—from a thousand and one Arabian nights. Unlike Scheherazade, however, she’d failed to please her king for more than a few nights.
She still couldn’t believe that he’d dismissed her from his life so easily. That everything that had happened between them meant nothing. Or maybe she’d let it mean more than it should.
But he’d touched her so tenderly, made love to her so fiercely. Claimed to want her desperately.
Had it all been a lie?
She watched the cloudless sky slide by and wished she’d never come to the desert.
Another lesson learned, Genie.
She supposed she should be thankful he’d ended it now, before she’d made a fool of herself and babbled her love. Before she’d mentally set up house with him and let her career fall by the wayside.
