“Maybe he didn’t take you seriously. Perhaps he thought you’d give up and go back to the States, leaving the country in the hands of servants.”
“Perhaps.” Osman was frowning. “But I still think it’s an outlandish theory. And the men who shot you were in Satya. Darud rules Tabriq.”
“I know. Part of what made me look at Tabriq is that the men involved were from everywhere except Tabriq. I suspect he deliberately hired foreigners to deflect attention. I’ve seen it before. Then when the operation is over they can be quietly disposed of, with no one local any the wiser.”
“We have to cancel the contest. I can’t put the family at risk. Or the staff. They’ve killed several of my men.”
“No, you’ve got to go ahead with it.” Gibran winced as pain shot up his leg. Maybe he was moving a bit too much for his first day, but they were nearly at the so-called harem where the newest prisoners were now being held. The earlier captives had been sent to cells elsewhere. “That way you’ll be able to confront the situation head on, and get past it.”
“By killing Darud in hand-to-hand combat?” The gleam in Osman’s eye could be humor—or not.
Gibran chuckled grimly. “By letting him know that you know what’s going on, and that you won’t stand for it. These territories are too big and spread out to just let sleeping dogs lie. You can’t patrol every inch of your border. You need to keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Forge new alliances with him, if he can’t have the oil, give him something else, and get something from him. Make it work for both of you, then he’ll be on your side, not working against you.”
“I like the way you think,” Osman stared at him. They headed through a tall arch, into the old stone chambers with their black and white tiled floors. “Like a businessman, more than a soldier.”
“Soldiering is a business in this day and age. You’d be a fool to think otherwise. No one goes to war over honor any more—if they ever did—it’s all about the bottom line.”
“I hear you. But how do we protect ourselves once the enemy is inside our gates?”
“We need to prepare for a Trojan horse scenario, but Darud won’t put his own life in danger. Has he already agreed to attend?”
“Yes, all three rulers accepted quite quickly. I was surprised.”
“Perfect. They’re as keen on this as you are. They all want what’s best for themselves and their countries and people. You need to conjure a scenario that works for you and get them all onboard with it.”
“Luckily, I already have one in mind.”
“What’s going on with Aliyah?”
Aliyah froze at the sound of Ronnie’s voice. She was hurrying down one of the long corridors, trying her best to avoid everyone, as she’d been doing for days. She ducked into an archway, praying they’d go another way.
She’d tried her best to act like nothing was the matter, but it was hard. Mostly she stayed in her quarters, playing with the girls, reading stories that always seemed to remind her of Gibran.
Who’d banished her and was now avoiding her like she had the plague.
“Aliyah!” Sam’s voice—right in her ear—startled her so much that she jumped. “We were just talking about you.”
“Oh.” She tried to look surprised. “I’m heading to the garden to check on Megu. He looked a little under the weather yesterday.” Her beloved cats had picked up on her mood. Tassi seemed fretful, whining and rubbing her face, and Megu moped in a corner of the cage.
“We were heading to the garden to discuss food for the welcome feast at the contest. Why don’t you join us?”
Aliyah was fairly sure they’d been discussing something else altogether and Sam just made that up as a pretext. Which was sweet of her. And it would be rude to refuse. “Okay.” Her hesitation showed in her voice.
It was pathetic how attached she’d grown to Gibran. Two short nights—not even the whole night—spent in each other’s arms and somehow her heart had decided he’d be hers forever. Her brain had always known better, but suddenly her heart and brain weren’t on speaking terms at all.
Even her girls had noticed that she was unusually silent and distracted. Hopefully this horrible feeling was like a nagging cold that would wear off eventually, perhaps after an uncomfortable coughing phase.
“Great! The cook is trying out some new recipes from Satya, Akar, and Tabriq, to make our guests feel at home. You can tell us what you think.”
She pushed a tiny smile to her face. “I’d be happy to.”
She managed to keep up with their bold, striding steps—Americans walked a lot faster than people in Ubar—and they’d almost reached the fountain in the garden, when her heart seized.
Gibran—walking, or rather hobbling with a crutch—on the far side of the garden, talking to Osman.
She realized, too late, that she’d stopped walking. She dragged her eyes from Gibran, again, too late. His dark eyes had locked onto hers for a fierce split-second, before he turned back to Osman, ignoring her completely.
Sam frowned at her, then looked at Gibran, then back at Aliyah. “It’s Gibran, isn’t it?”
Aliyah swallowed and tried to think of a lie that might work.
“I remember the first time I saw you together in the garden, it looked as if he’d just kissed your hand or something.” She spoke low, so no one except Aliyah and Ronnie could hear. “You know him from before, don’t you?”
“No!” She protested easily, because it was the truth. “That was the first time I ever met him. I must have been a baby when he left Ubar for France.”
“But something has happened between you.” Sam gazed steadily at Aliyah, who felt her face heat. “You haven’t been yourself since he arrived. What’s going on?”
Aliyah’s lips moved but no sound came out. Tears suddenly rushed to her eyes.
“Come, sit down. I’m sorry. Sometimes I can be too blunt.” Sam slipped an arm around her, which made Aliyah feel even worse because her shoulders were shaking. “Have some coffee. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
They moved into the seating area, where Sam plied Aliyah with coffee and sweet treats. Aliyah felt her tears subside and her breathing grow steadier.
She wanted to tell them. It would help so much to have a girlfriend to talk things over with. She knew they’d see her differently if they knew the truth, but maybe they’d understand.
“Gibran’s a very handsome man,” said Ronnie, after a prolonged silence.
“He is,” agreed Sam. “Those Al Kilanjar men are a force to be reckoned with. Did he seduce you?”
Sam asked so softly that Aliyah couldn’t say no. She managed to nod. “I didn’t mean for it to happen.”
“I never meant to get seduced, either,” said Ronnie quietly. “Nor did Sam. We were just going about our lives, and Sam even had a fiancé, but when an Al Kilanjar man sweeps into your life, all your carefully made plans and rules fly out the window.”
“Did you kiss him?” Sam looked so curious. They both leaned in until their hair was almost touching, like real girlfriends sharing an intimate conversation.
Aliyah’s gut instinct told her that they wouldn’t judge her too harshly. “Yes.” She looked down at her hands. “And more.”
“No way!” Sam touched her arm.
“You slept with him?” whispered Ronnie. “You really are one of us now.”
Aliyah wanted to be cheered by this newfound sisterhood. But she really wasn’t one of them. “He doesn’t want anything to do with me now.”
“Why not?”
“He kept telling me all along to stay away from him, that he wasn’t reliable or trustworthy, but then he’d be seducing me at the same time. I’m not experienced. I didn’t know how to handle it.”
“He sounds confused,” said Ronnie with a wry expression. “And frankly, I think he’s pining for you. He’s been very quiet himself these last few days.”
“It’s probably the pain. He’s injured.” Sam insisted. Aliyah wasn’t so sure.
Sam and Ronnie were seduced by men who wooed them until they agreed to marry them. She got dumped after a couple of nights in bed.
“That’s probably why he backed off.” Ronnie looked thoughtful. “Maybe he’s embarrassed by being vulnerable. He seems like the kind of guy who prides himself on being tough and invincible. It’s probably killing him that all of a sudden he has to limp around. Maybe he doesn’t feel like he’s man enough for you now.”
Aliyah didn’t think it could be that simple. “Amahd said that the doctors hope that he’ll make a full recovery. I think that maybe he just…had enough of me.” Heat rose to her face at the shame of it. She’d given herself to him so easily, he’d taken his fill, and now he was done.
Ronnie frowned. “Something tells me that’s not it. I don’t know…. Maybe he’s really falling for you and he doesn’t like that. He probably prides himself on having no emotions, being a robot-like soldier, and all of a sudden he’s feeling things he can’t control.”
“Yes!” exclaimed Sam, looking suddenly excited. “I bet that’s it.” She thrust a plate of almond cookies at Aliyah. Who recoiled, because she had no appetite lately. “Maybe he’s fallen so hard in love with you that his only solution is to run for the hills.”
“Except that he can’t run for the hills,” continued Ronnie. “Because he’s on crutches, and has a job to finish here.”
Aliyah sighed “Things were just starting to go well when he got injured.”
“Hmm.” Sam pressed a finger to her mouth. “A few injuries usually don’t slow an Al Kilanjar man down much, but Gibran is obviously more complicated than the others because of his unusual background.”
Aliyah nodded. “I think he feels insecure here, because his brothers are all kings or destined to be kings, and he still feels like an outsider.”
“And you’re a queen,” mused Ronnie.
Sam lifted an eyebrow. “And his late father’s wife! It is a pretty complex and difficult situation, no matter how you look at it. Still, I strongly suspect that he has deep and powerful feelings for you, and they’re scaring the heck out of him. I think that’s why he tried to banish you from his existence. The big question is, do you want him back?”
Aliyah bit her lip. “You know those deep and powerful feelings you mentioned?” She rubbed her palms on her dress. “I have those, too. I never had them before. He’s changed me, opened something inside me.”
“Mmmm, sounds like love to me,” said Ronnie with a wry smile. “It isn’t always pretty, or easy, but it’s usually worth fighting for.”
Aliyah’s chest ached. Could they be right? And could she ever forgive herself if she didn’t find out? She looked from Ronnie to Sam and back again. “What do you think I should do?”
They both spoke in unison with, strangely enough, the exact same words. “You need to go after him.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“But what if he’s really not interested?” Aliyah could easily imagine throwing herself at him—and him curtly rebuffing her. How agonizing would that be?
Sam shrugged. “You won’t know if you don’t try.”
“And what would I say?”
“Does he know how you feel about him?”
“I don’t know.” Had she ever said anything? She didn’t think so. Their most intimate conversations had been with their bodies.
“He may have no idea how you feel. He may think you’ve been using him as a boy toy.”
Aliyah laughed. “I very much doubt it! I told him I wasn’t interested in anyone, and that I was happy just raising my children. He went on a mission to prove that I needed and wanted more from life.”
“You should be mad at him.” Sam tilted her head, and her dark hair fell over one shoulder. “It sounds like he led you on and left you hanging.”
“I am mad.” Aliyah drew in a breath. “At least the part of me that isn’t really hurt by him dumping me. But the last thing I need is to get rejected again.”
“The problem is, he’s a man, so he might pretend to be not interested just because he doesn’t want to make himself vulnerable.” Ronnie pressed a finger to her lips. “That’s why I think you need to put yourself on the line first. This is tricky to figure out.” She glanced at Sam. “In a way it’s the opposite situation that you and I faced. Osman and Zadir kept galloping after us hell-for-leather until we finally gave in.” They all laughed. “Now it’s Gibran who needs to give in—to his own feelings.”
“If he even has any.” Aliyah’s gut churned with an agonizing blend of hope and fear. “Maybe it was just a game to him. How will I ever truly find out how he feels?”
“How does that song go?” mused Ronnie. Then she sang, “If you want to know if he loves you so…it’s in his kiss…”
“…That’s where it is,” sang Sam, in harmony.
“It’s in his ki-iss.”
“I don’t know that song,” admitted Aliyah. She knew very little Western music.
“You don’t need to know the song, it’s the concept that counts.” Ronnie sipped her coffee. “You can just feel what a man is thinking when he kisses you. When they’re kissing you right from the heart, it’s hard to resist.”
Sam sighed. “So true. And that feeling doesn’t dissipate, either. That’s how I knew Osman was the one. With my previous boyfriend, things started out exciting, and then kind of fizzled. With Osman, if anything they keep growing more intense as we build our future together.”
“I haven’t even known him that long.” Aliyah still had doubts. Her relationship with Gibran really didn’t compare with their marriages.
“Everything has to start somewhere. Imagine how amazing it would be if things work out between you.” Sam smiled. “You’d both be here at the palace and we wouldn’t have to worry about either of you marrying and leaving.”
A tiny chill roamed through Aliyah. She didn’t want to leave the palace. She’d planned her whole life around staying here for the sake of her children.
On the other hand, she couldn’t picture Gibran living here. It was Osman’s house now. Zadir was only staying here until the house he and Ronnie were building was completed, and Amahd had some kind of apartment out by the oil fields that he stayed at several nights a week. Gibran was too fiercely independent to live under another man’s roof or by his rules.
Maybe Gibran was right and this whole thing was doomed.
“I don’t even know if he’ll talk to me. How can I get him alone? That was easier when he was laid up in bed.”
“I think you should act like a queen and summon him.” Sam lifted a brow. “He can hardly say no.”
“I don’t know…” Aliyah was doubtful. Gibran could and quite possibly would say no. He didn’t care about impressing anyone, or being polite. “That might just make him mad.”
“Which could be a good thing.” Ronnie leaned forward. “Get his emotions running, get him feeling something so he can’t freeze you out and pretend nothing really matters to him.”
Aliyah swallowed hard.
“Do you want to spend the rest of your life wondering, ‘what if?’” asked Sam.
Aliyah bit her lip. “No.”
“Don’t you think he owes you at least the time of day to talk things over?” asked Ronnie. “Since you’ve already been intimate.”
“I don’t know. I’m nervous. I’ve never really taken charge of anything.” She’d much prefer if Gibran came to her. But she knew that wouldn’t happen. He prided himself on his self-control and discipline. He’d probably avoid her even if it killed him. A sick ache roamed through her at the thought of him leaving the palace without knowing how she truly felt.
“Okay, I’ll do it. But how do I ask him to come?”
“Great!” Sam had a satisfied look on her face already. “I’ll tell him you’re concerned about the security of your quarters and want to discuss it with him. If I do it then neither of you will be likely to chicken out.”
Aliyah inhaled a shaky breath. “Okay. I may live to regret thi
s, but I’ll give it a try.”
Aliyah had sent the girls off to play with Sam and Ronnie, who’d agreed to keep them busy until she sent them a signal. Right now she was alone in her quarters, pacing like a caged animal as adrenaline ripped around her veins.
Gibran had been summoned, and was on his way.
She hoped she’d manage to say all the things on her mind and not get so distracted and intimidated by his presence that she couldn’t do more than gape like a fish.
A bold knock on the door made her jump, and adrenaline stung her fingers and toes. “Coming.” Her voice was high and reedy. She hurried for the door, heart pounding, and sucked in a breath before she pulled it open.
Gibran’s broad silhouette filled the doorway, blocking out the light. At the sight of him, all her planned words—the polite greeting, the carefully chosen statement, the plea for understanding—fled her mind, and she could do nothing but stare at him.
His dark eyes shone with unnamable emotion. His jaw was set rigid, and a muscle moved in his cheek. He had a wooden crutch under one arm but held himself up so that his shoulders were level and he wasn’t putting any weight on the crutch—which was probably causing him considerable pain.
“Come in,” she managed at last in a shaky whisper.
“As you wish,” he murmured, as if he were a servant summoned to do her will. He moved slowly, obviously dogged by pain he’d rather die than show.
Anger and frustration surged inside her. Surely he wouldn’t freeze her out after all they’d shared? She closed the door behind him.
His big body seemed to dominate the space, and every muscle in his physique exuded strength and power, even in his injured condition.
“I’m glad you’re up and about.”
“Me too. Though I’ll be a lot happier when I can stop acting like an invalid and get back behind the wheel of a car.”
That would probably be the moment he left for good.
His dark eyes searched her face. “Have you been driving?”
She shook her head. “There hasn’t been anywhere I’ve wanted to go.”
Desert Kings Boxed Set: The Complete Series Books 1-6 Page 60
