by Sophia Lynn
"Hello, Sheikh Rakim..." Iriq started, but Rakim cut him off with a sound that was nearly a growl. The sound was deep and dark, and Anna felt a shiver go through her when she heard it.
"Save it," Rakim said. "What the hell did you think you were doing?"
Either Iriq was very brave or he did not have any sense at all, and from the time she had spent with him, Anna was willing to believe that it was the later rather than the former. Instead of turning pale or stammering an apology, he only grinned at Rakim.
"I was simply passing some time with your companion," he said smoothly. "She is lovely, and she was very interested in making some time with me..."
It was right about that moment when Iriq's luck ran out. Rakim didn't even growl this time. He simply struck like a lion that had been pushed too far. With one powerful strike, Iriq was on the ground, falling back against the bench in a flailing of limbs.
Rakim didn't even spare him a second. Instead he turned to Anna, who felt a surge of relief go through her. Then she realized that the rage had not diminished from Rakim's eyes.
"Ra-Rakim?" she whispered hesitantly, and his hand closed around her wrist.
"We are leaving now," he said, and she was too shocked to protest as he pulled her through the gathering crowd.
She glanced back to where people were beginning to help Iriq up, and she glimpsed her shawl and pin on the ground, crumpled against the marble like a pair of broken wings.
Chapter Ten
The ride back to the townhouse was conducted mostly in silence. The moment they were both in the car, Rakim had let go of her hand, but instead of speaking to her, he only gazed angrily out of the window. Anna tried a few times to speak, but her words got caught in her throat.
Instead, she wrapped her arms around her body and tried to calm herself. A part of her could still feel Iriq's hands on her, but that was fading into an unpleasant memory by the moment. Without her shawl, she felt even colder, and she wanted more than anything for Rakim to put his arm around her.
She could still feel the fury radiating off of him, however, and she couldn't break the silence. Instead, she simply waited.
When they were finally alone in the townhouse, the door closed behind them and Rakim whirled on her.
"What the hell was going through your head?" he snarled, and Anna looked up at him, her eyes enormous.
"What...? What do you mean?" she stammered.
His gaze was scornful, and it cut like a knife to the bone. He raked a hot gaze up and down her body, and she felt even more naked than she had felt before.
"That wasn't how you looked when you walked out of this townhouse," he snapped. "Was that waiting for Iriq or someone like him?"
"I put on this dress too late to see that it was...this low cut!" she exclaimed. "I didn't know, and when I figured it out, I grabbed the shawl."
Rakim sneered.
"Unimpressed, Anna," he said. "When I saw you, you looked as demure as a finishing schoolgirl. When you were making time with Iriq, you looked like you wouldn't mind falling the rest of the way out your dress!"
Anna gasped at what she finally realized he was implying. She couldn't understand how he could believe these ridiculous things about her. She couldn't understand why he would be so very angry.
"Rakim, stop!" she said, standing up shakily. "Please, this doesn't mean anything. I wasn't...entertaining any plans, or anything like that. It was a simple mistake!"
"And so it was a simple mistake that you ended up in a private place being undressed by Iriq?" he demanded. "Perhaps I showed up too soon. If I had waited another moment, if I had wondered if you were all right a little later, perhaps I would have gotten a better idea of what your plans were?"
Anna stared at him, unable to reconcile the man who had touched her so beautifully and so kindly with the cruelty that was coming out of his mouth now. There was a sick feeling in her stomach, and there was a burning in her eyes. She was dreadfully afraid that she as going to burst into tears if this went on for much longer.
"Why aren't you listening to me?" she asked in confusion. "The dress was a mistake that I tried to fix! I wanted some water, he said he would get it for me, and then he grabbed me and dragged me to that alcove! I wasn't there because I wanted to be, Rakim."
"I suppose it is a coincidence that you ended up making time with the only man at the soiree who is as rich as me, who has as much power as I do?"
She stared at him, and all the pieces started to slip into place. The things he said, the things Iriq said, it made sense and she felt her head and heart ache.
"Is...is this some kind of petty rivalry?" she demanded. "Is this some kind of...some kind of contest for you? You think I'm some kind of toy that you can fight over?"
He gave her a cold look.
"There are matters at play that you cannot—"
"Well, then explain them to me!" she said loudly, and her eyes narrowed. She had never spoken to him like this before, and the thought of it sent a chill through her, but she knew that she couldn't back down now.
"Explain to me how I knew who Iriq was, despite only having been in the city for a few days! Explain to me how I was intending to go conspire with him or whatever, despite not wanting to go to the soiree at all!"
"I found you in his arms!" Rakim growled, but Anna was standing up straight, looking him in the eye.
"You found me about to be very sick," she spat. "I didn't want his arms around me. I didn't want him—"
"You're going back to the palace."
The words cut her off as if they were a sword coming down. She stared at him.
"What?"
"If you have no intention of conspiring, as you put it, you won't mind being returned to the mountain."
She stared at him, and he didn't give her a chance to respond. He was already striding back towards the door, his phone in his hand. At the threshold, he turned back to her.
"Be ready to leave in the morning," he snapped. "There will be a car and a plane ready to take you back to where you can't interrupt my peace of mind again."
The door rocked on its hinges as he slammed it on his way out, and the silence that was left in his wake was deafening. Anna froze, and somehow, when she didn't shatter into a million pieces, it felt like some kind of unlooked-for miracle.
She felt as if she was wrapped in cotton, like everything was very far away. She thought vaguely that another woman, one who was truly the tempestuous temptress that Rakim and Iriq seemed to think she was, would have pitched a fit. She would be picking things up and throwing them, shouting, and tearing off into the night to raise all kinds of hell.
Instead, Anna slowly sank down to the couch again, letting the silence overwhelm her. She felt empty, and it took her several long moments to realize where that emptiness was coming from. It was the place where Rakim's affection had been before that. She was a vessel for that happiness, that joy, and now that it was gone, she was left with an emptiness that was so deep that she could barely understand it.
After a while, she gave up on trying to give words to the multitude of things that were roiling through her. She got up from the couch, and she went to the bedroom, where she stripped off the gown. She knew that it was beautiful and valuable, but she couldn't get the energy to do anything more than to drape it over the foot of the bed. She changed into a soft and distinctly unfashionable nightgown, feeling a hint of comfort in how soft and warm it was.
Anna paused. No matter how much she told herself that it was silly, she couldn't make herself get into the bed. That was a place that she was meant to share with Rakim, and she didn't know if that was ever happening again.
She stared at the bed for a moment, and then, shaking her head, she went to the small guest bedroom. As tired as she was, Anna would have guessed that she would simply drop off to sleep, but instead she tossed and turned for what felt like hours. When she finally did drop off into a deep slumber, her dreams were full of shouted accusations and the feeling of falling through a
vast and dark place with no way to know what waited for her on the bottom.
***
The penthouse was not Rakim's favorite residence in the country, but it was accessible, easy to get to, and even better, had a fully stocked bar. He walked in, throwing his jacket aside, and walked straight to the liquor cabinet. He poured himself a slug of good whiskey, and without pause or consideration for its quality, drank it down.
The smooth smoky burn was the warmest thing he had felt since he had seen Anna in Iriq's arms, and he felt himself calm down in increments.
Even when the alcohol was starting to do its work, his mind still felt like a swarm of bees. There was the one image that he kept coming back to, and no matter what he did, he couldn't seem to erase it.
There would be repercussions for striking Iriq down, no matter how richly the other man deserved it, but he couldn't pull his mind away from Anna—his Anna. He couldn't tolerate the thought of her being touched by another man, or leaning back for a passionate kiss from anyone but him. The thought pushed him towards a rage, but more than that, it pushed him towards a despair to which he could see no bottom.
The idea that Anna might want someone else's touch was like a claw in his belly. It tore him open and left him vulnerable in a way that he could barely begin to comprehend. He wanted to go back to the townhouse, where he could shout at her and at the same time touch her as well, to prove to her that she belonged to him.
He couldn't risk it, however. Rakim was grimly certain that if he touched her again, if he let himself be vulnerable and open with her, he would crumble. He would weaken, soften, and in no time at all, he would allow things to fall back towards where they were, where he was a fool who was happy to believe that the beautifully innocent young woman in his bed was exactly as she seemed.
He knew that that was a path that would just bring him right back to this place, and he knew that he had to resist it.
Rakim poured himself another drink, but he didn't throw it back as he had before. He knew what a risk that might be, and so he slumped on the armchair nearby, sipping the burning liquid slowly.
He couldn't believe how close he had come to believing in this thing between him and Anna. It had felt like something out of a dream when he had met her, when they had come together. The word that hovered at the edge of his consciousness, that yearned to be voiced, was love, but now it burned like acid. Could one truly feel something like that, and then recover from having it taken away? Could he truly have been in love with someone who would betray him so thoroughly?
The questions circled his head until he thought that he would go mad. Rakim tried to tell himself that what he felt for Anna was mere lust and nothing more—lust that had gotten out of hand. Lust was powerful, and if he thought of her, there was still a haze of need that came over him, but if he were painfully honest with himself, it was more than that. Far more.
It wasn't just her body he craved, and no matter what he told himself, that was the truth. He craved her mind, and her sweetness, and her smile, and the days he had spent with her, doing nothing more than enjoying each other's company. That was what was so dangerous about her, and that was what he could not tolerate.
If he gave her a place in his life, it would simply grow larger and larger, and not necessarily because of anything she did, but because of what he wanted to give her.
Rakim wasn't sure that he had ever met a woman to whom he wanted to give more. There was something incredibly special about seeing her dressed in clothes finer than any she had ever worn and knowing that he was the one who had made that happen. There was something wonderful about laying her down in his bed and realizing that no one had given her the kind of pleasure that he had given her before.
When she smiled, she glowed, and that was all that he wanted.
He had known all his life that the desire he had for a woman could be his undoing; it had often been a theme in the histories of the sheiks who came before him. There were so many tales of men who had been undone by gorgeous women who knew how to use their wiles, who would entice and seduce and bring down the world. He had thought himself above all of it, too wise and canny by far to be taken in, but now he had come to realize that he was far from immune. The only difference was that his own doom had come to him in a much different package than the one he was expecting.
No, his doom had a smile that could melt steel.
At some point, his drink had disappeared. He poured himself another.
She would be gone in the morning. That was all that mattered.
***
Anna was calm by the time the chauffeur rang the bell. She had had the time to make herself so. Around five, she had given up on sleep entirely, and instead worked on figuring out what she was going to do. She hadn't wept or screamed or crumbled under the weight of it, the way that she had been afraid that she might. In fact, she felt calm.
She had gone to the closet and looked admiringly at all of the beautiful clothes he had bought her. She knew now that some of her pleasure at them was the fact that they were a promise of sorts, and a kind of silent belief. She had absolutely no reason to be wearing clothes like that on her own. They signified the fact that she was entering into Rakim's sphere, that she was going to be entering his world and his life. Now that that was not going to happen, she felt detached from them. She could tell how beautiful they were, but they had nothing to do with her at all.
At the bottom of the closet, shoved away towards the back, were her own clothes, the dull and the practical, the things that she had packed more out of instinct than anything else. When Anna had been packing them back at the palace, she had wondered about them. They were comfortable, but Madame Artois had made her many comfortable pieces of lounge-wear. Still she had packed them, and now she was very glad that she had.
They were unmistakably hers, and they meant that she could be taken away from the city wearing only things that belonged to her. She didn't know whether it was pride or grief that made her need this. It could have been both. All she knew was that when she put on a long tunic and a pair of wide-legged trousers, there was a moment of intense recognition.
She examined herself carefully in the bedroom mirror, and though she still felt numb, she could recognize herself. She was the same woman she had been before. She hadn't changed at all. It was a comfort. It made her want to weep.
If she were honest with herself, she didn't want to come back to this. She didn't want to be herself again. She didn't care about the shining clothes or the soirees, however. What she wanted, what she now could tell that she needed, was Rakim. His touch had molded her with heat, tamed her with its gentleness.
Sitting with her suitcase at her feet, Anna was struck with the idea of refusing to go. Perhaps she would simply dismiss the driver. Perhaps she could chain herself to the fireplace.
I belong to you, she imagined herself saying to Rakim. What kind of man takes possession of someone, and then throws her aside without a single attempt to fix what is wrong between them?
She found herself smiling a little as she wondered what it was he would say about that. Would he shout at her? It was terrifying, but he had done so last night and she hadn't shattered into a million pieces. Would he try to remove her bodily? Despite herself, something in her shivered at that. It wasn't that she was frightened of violence, though after what had happened to Iriq, perhaps she should have been. No, if anything, Rakim was the one who should have been afraid. The passion that burned between them was something that could simply be set alight with just a touch, and he might have realized that by touching her, he was giving himself up.
Then the doorbell chimed and Anna knew that it was all foolishness. This was real life. It wasn't a fairy tale. At best, it was a soap opera or a farce. This interlude was over, and now it was time to get back to her regular life.
"This wasn't real. It never was," she said out loud. Saying the words out loud didn't help at all, not really, but it was all she had at the moment.
She shook h
er head, and went to answer the door.
Chapter Eleven
In less time than Anna would have believed, she was back at the palace in the mountains. It was a testament to the scale and scope and nature of the place that it felt like no time had passed at all. She had spent only a few days in the city, less than a week. When she was in the capital, it had seemed to last forever, but now that she was back in the mountains, she could see how short her time away had been.
She had expected that she would be relieved to see her library again, but when she opened the door, it let loose a tide of memories that made her eyes sting with tears. This was where she had met Rakim, where they had first touched each other, set the passion burning that had raged through them both. The library was no sanctuary, and it was all she could do to run to the apartment that had been hers in the back.
Then Anna did cry, the tears flowing hot down her face. She cried at how cruel Rakim had been and how carelessly he had treated their love. She wept for what they had lost, and she wept for how far apart they were. For weeks, they had never been apart, and now she had no idea where he was.
She wept out of rage as well. The angry tears were the most difficult to understand. He had hurt something that was meant to be precious between them, and she could not understand how he could do something like that. It was pain and anger and sadness all mixed, and Anna simply cried until she was left sore and empty.
Finally, she rolled over on her back, looking up at the ceiling.
Time to get on with things, she thought to herself. Time to find out what comes next.
For the most part, she did. The library needed her as much as it ever had, and when she could, she took long walks down towards the mountain town. The groundskeepers kept offering to ferry her down to the town, and shook their heads grimly when she waved them off.
"It's not going to be safe to keep taking the foot path for much longer," one man told her. "The later it gets in the season, the slipperier and more treacherous it will be. You should let us bring you down when you want to go. We go down at least once a day, so it is no trouble, miss."
