by Hana Sheik
Amal heard a “but” coming.
Sure enough, Hakeem said, “But he made it very clear he didn’t want you to know of his departure in advance. He’s my friend, and I have his trust. I don’t mean to lose it.”
Sagging back into her chair, she knew exactly why Mansur hadn’t wanted to tell her. She touched the ring on her finger, watching as Hakeem’s narrowing gaze fell there, his face smoothed of any telling emotion.
She had to convince him to betray Mansur’s trust—just this once.
“I love him, Hakeem. I need him to know that before he goes.”
What chance would she get once he was in the air and bound for America? She pressed her trembling lips together, her eyes heated from the tears she wasn’t ready to cry.
“Okay, you sold me,” said Hakeem, after too long a pause. Chuckling when she gasped her joy, he told her, “He’ll hate me for it for a bit, but I’m no monster. I won’t stop you from making Manny see that he’s in love with you, the stubborn fool.”
Hearing that Mansur loved her was all the incentive she needed. She had to be with him. Had to let him know that she loved him, too, and that it wasn’t too late for that future together he’d spoken of so tenderly.
“Do you think you could stop his plane from leaving?” She didn’t know where she’d got the idea that Hakeem could do that, but she had to try. And he was a billionaire.
“I could try,” he said with an impish grin.
* * *
“I thought we were wheels up shortly?”
That was Manny’s response when the pilot interrupted his plans to shower to inform him of yet another unscheduled delay. First the engine, now this...
Apologizing profusely, the pilot promised they’d be in the air as soon as possible. It wasn’t what Manny wanted to hear. Given why he was leaving so suddenly, he didn’t wish for any reason to linger and tempt himself to go hunting for the source of his anguish.
Banishing thoughts of Amal from his mind for what had to be the tenth time in that hour alone, Manny dressed in haste. He headed to the front of the plane to see for himself what the delay was.
He found it quickly.
Or she found him.
“Amal...” he breathed, his disbelief vanishing after a few heartbeats. He forced a frown instead of revealing the immense pleasure sparking through him at the sight of her. “What are you doing here?” He didn’t have to ask, but gruffly he wondered, “Are you the reason the pilot has delayed take-off?”
She nodded. “I had to do something when I heard you hadn’t left Addis yet.”
It took him another moment before he grumbled, “Hakeem?” But he couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed. Seeing Amal had made that impossible. “What are you doing here?” he asked. And then, in the very next breath, he growled, “You shouldn’t have come.”
“I had to.”
Amal sat primly on a leather sofa in the lounge area, her hands in her lap, her fingers fidgeting. The diamond on her finger was hard to miss.
Manny didn’t know what to make of seeing her wearing his ring. Especially after his tumultuous night thinking of how he had failed yet again in making her love him. And then there was the terrible choice he’d made to leave her in Addis...
His voice noticeably rougher, he asked, “Why? We said everything that needed to be said.”
“You did, Mansur. I haven’t given you my answer yet, remember?”
Of course he hadn’t forgotten. And that was why she was here. She must want to return his engagement ring. End this one-sided love of his once and for all.
Steeling his spine, reminding himself that he’d survived the first heartbreak and would make it through this one as well, Manny dipped his chin for her to continue. To deliver the killing blow.
“I’ve decided I want the ring,” she said.
Okay... He hadn’t been prepared for that. Not one bit.
He blew out an unsteady breath. “Keep it, then. Or fling it in the Indian Ocean if you want. It’s yours. Do whatever you wish.”
“And if I prefer to have it remain on my finger?”
He hardened his jaw, felt his heart wavering on a reply. What could he tell her? That nothing would please him more than for her to do as she said? For his flashy yet traditional token of affection to stay wrapped around her finger?
“If it makes you happy,” he said at last.
Amal lifted her hand, her fingers caressing the white gold band inlaid with tiny diamonds. She did it so lovingly he almost unrooted his feet and moved to be nearer to her. At the last second he stopped himself.
“Do you care about my happiness?” she asked.
He couldn’t think of anything that mattered more.
“Yes,” he snapped, annoyed with himself for even answering. For giving her more ammunition to wound him with. This wasn’t going to end the way he’d dreamed. He was too grounded in reality to try to hope.
“And if I said my happiness isn’t tied to this ring?”
She found his eyes again, her stare bold but not confrontational. The teasing warmth in her gaze stirred him forward.
He slid one foot closer, and then the other. His heart was leaping up higher and higher, and it had to be in his throat as he rasped, “Then what would make you happy?”
“You.”
She said it so simply it brought him to a halt. He widened his eyes at her and then scowled, refusing to believe her.
“You don’t want me. You’ve seen the way I treat my family. I always thought you’d made a mistake, rejecting me, but you didn’t, Amal. I’m not a good man. It’s kind of you to lie, but you don’t have to pretend.”
“It’s true, though! Nothing and no one could make me happier. I’ve realized that this past week. Spending time with you, traveling with you, going to the hospital with you...all of it is a happy blur that I’ll cherish for the rest of my life,” she said when he shook his head sharply.
Amal touched her hands to her chest and smiled.
“These are the memories I’d hate to lose. I know I hurt you by rejecting your proposal in the past. I see that.” Her bottom lip trembled visibly. “And if I could turn back time I’d change it. I swear. I’d do anything. And it’s because I love you.”
There they were. The words he’d dreamt of hearing for too long.
“And I know you love me,” Amal said, her voice catching as she asked, “Unless I’m wrong? Am I, Mansur? Am I wrong in thinking that you love me?”
“But my family...” he argued.
“You and your family will find a way to heal and be together one day. I know you will.”
“What if I can’t?” Manny raised his voice. Not quite a shout, but close. He snarled low and thumped his fists against his thighs. “What then? If I can’t love them, if I remain cold and distant, will you care for me then?”
Would she continue to love him as vehemently as she’d declared in that moment?
“My love for you will be unchanged. I swear it.”
He... He believed her.
The fight ebbed out of him. Tired, and wanting her comfort, Manny went to her. He dropped to his knees slowly, crumpling before her in awe at how she’d tamed his doubts. How she’d slayed his heartbreak.
Amal framed his face with her soft hands and repeated the words that had calmed the rage in his heart. “I love you, Mansur. I came because I wanted to see your love for me for myself. I couldn’t let you leave without knowing that I’d done everything—even begged a billionaire—to stop your plane and keep you with me.”
“And if I still plan to leave?” he asked hoarsely.
She beamed, blinding him with her beauty.
“Then I shall have to demand that you take me along. Wherever you go, you must promise I’ll be there, right by your side, and you will be by mine.”
He laughed softly.
The mirth caught him by surprise, but Amal easily added her laughter to his.
When their laughter had subsided, he wondered, “Where did you get the idea that you love me?” Then a thought occurred to him. “Did you get your memories back?” That would explain a lot.
“That’s not it. I still don’t recall those memories.” Holding his face and bringing hers closer, she whispered, “But I knew the instant I couldn’t bring myself to take off your ring. And, if you’ll let me, I’d like to make new memories with you. Starting with this one.”
She kissed him. Her lips touched his softly, curiously. She experimented with pressure and with strokes. And he was a happy test subject.
Manny had always thought he’d initiate any intimacy first, but he should’ve known that Amal would amaze him. She always had and she always would.
He warmed quickly to their kiss, his experience kicking in and his need for her driving him to take over. Amal gladly followed, and their panting soon filling the air as he reared up and pressed her back to the sofa. They kissed until they had to give in to their breathlessness and pull apart.
He looked at Amal and found no frosty reception from her. The exact opposite, in fact, as she smiled and giggled.
“I’ve thought about that kiss for a long while,” she admitted.
He laughed huskily. “Same.”
“Mansur,” she said then, “ask me to marry you again.”
By coming to him in this eleventh hour Amal had taken a risk with her heart, too. She had put herself on the line for him, not knowing whether he’d abandon her again, and she had issues with that. Issues she’d been willing to contend with for him.
He saw that now. Loved her even more for it.
She loved him enough to take a chance on being heartbroken. And now she was asking him to take a second leap of faith with her.
Without needing to think it over anymore, Manny took her hand and kissed the diamond on her finger. “Amal Khalid, I love you. Will you marry me?”
She pulled him up for another brain-melting, heart-stopping kiss.
It was all the answer he needed.
EPILOGUE
Eighteen months later
“DO YOU MISS HARGEISA?”
Amal gasped softly as her husband’s rumbling question came from behind her. He’d snuck up on her. She had left him working in his home office, fully expecting they would have breakfast together a little later. But Mansur had found her. And now he had her in his arms, and she didn’t know a better place to be.
They were standing on their master bedroom’s balcony. The view of his American city—and hers now—was breathtakingly beautiful. Pittsburgh was her home because it was his. And yet he was right to ask. A piece of her heart would always remain in Hargeisa. Naturally she missed her other home.
“We could move up our flight. Head back a little earlier.” Mansur kissed her temple, his lips gentle on her long-healed scar.
Amal hummed teasingly, thinking over his proposal. “I wouldn’t mind that. It’d be nice to share our news with everyone earlier.”
“Done. I’ll buy the tickets tonight.” He palmed her swelling belly, smirking. “I’m surprised you haven’t revealed the secret yet and told my mother—or your office manager, Iman.”
She laughed. “I’m not that bad with keeping secrets. I think the amnesia’s taught me to appreciate every moment, that’s all.”
“Afraid you’ll forget our baby? You’ll forget me?”
She whirled in his arms and touched his beard, loving the feel of the coarse curls under her palm. Since he’d discovered she liked stroking it he’d been growing his beard, and it was thicker and wilder than ever. It was just one of the ways he pleased her.
“Never,” she breathed. “I’d never forget you.”
He placed a kiss in her palm and asked, “How is the firm doing?”
She’d left her architectural firm in the combined hands of Iman and her team of talented and capable technologists. They reported to her regularly, so she still had a hand in the numerous projects flooding in.
The influx of business was all thanks to Mansur funding the hospital she’d dreamed of for Hargeisa long before her amnesia, and long before he’d ever thought to propose marriage to her. She’d argued for him to keep his millions, but he’d said, “My money is yours—just as my heart is yours,” and she had found she couldn’t refuse him.
Now the hospital was built, and more lives were being saved than ever.
“It’s going great...and my living here hasn’t affected business,” she replied.
“Good,” he said, kissing her cheek and tickling her with his beard.
Amal snuggled closer to his chest. She thought of how they’d come to be here. Playing the events back in her head again as she sometimes liked to do.
Right after he’d proposed to her again—and very successfully that time—Mansur and she had discussed their living arrangements. It had been decided that they’d live part-time in America and part-time in Hargeisa. But mostly America, because Amal had known it would be easier on him and his company.
They’d married in Hargeisa shortly after their return from Addis Ababa. The wedding had been lavish and large as Mansur hadn’t budged about spending money on her. In the end it hadn’t mattered. Amal and Mansur had celebrated their love with their family and friends.
Then Mansur had left for America and filed for a spousal visa. While he’d been away from her Amal had kept busy, journaling and having talk therapy with a psychologist in Addis Ababa over video sessions. She’d since stopped therapy, but she was still journaling.
She was at peace with her amnesia now. It was a part of her. She didn’t recall all her memories. And she wasn’t certain she ever would. But, given all the memories she was making day in and day out with Mansur, Amal found herself less inclined to care about those lost memories.
She was happy—and had been even happier when her visa had been approved and she’d been able to fly over and start her life with Mansur in their American home.
She’d been away from Hargeisa for six months now, and already a lot had changed. She was managing her firm remotely and learning on the go. Meanwhile, Mansur was doing extremely well, juggling married life, his demanding position as CEO of the company, and his most recent building project with Hakeem—a five-star over-the-top luxurious hotel in Abu Dhabi.
And finally, happiest of all, they were expecting their first child in five months.
“What about Zoya?” she asked, curious about her good-natured sister-in-law. “How is she? And Salim, her sisters and her mother?”
Manny smiled. “The flower farm is thriving on our father’s land. Everyone’s pitching in to help Zoya—my stepmother included. And apparently she’s totally booked for several seasons in advance for leasing out the rest of the farmland.”
“Is it that popular with the local farmers?”
“Very. They’re happy a big company hasn’t moved in to displace their farmsteads and their homes.” He paused, and then said, “I’m glad I had the sense to sign over the land to Zoya. She’s done more with it than I ever could have.”
Amal kissed his chest, right over his heart. “You’re forgetting she wouldn’t have been able to do anything if it were not for you.”
Manny chuckled. “I suppose that’s true.”
“It is,” she chirped, beaming up at him with a mix of pride and love.
She couldn’t believe this was the same man who had been certain that he couldn’t have an amicable relationship with his half-sisters and stepmother. To see him at peace with himself...she didn’t think anything in the world could be so pleasing. Not even the wondrous sunrise view of the Liberty Bridge and the Mon River from his million-dollar home.
Amal went on tiptoes and touched her lips to his bearded jaw. Manny didn’t let her go and leaned down to give her
what she desired. A kiss that warmed her soul.
“What do you think your mom will say once she learns she’s to be a grandmother?” she asked.
He gave her a toothy smile. “I imagine she’ll be less shocked than when she learned I’d contacted my stepmother and half-sisters and given them my land inheritance.”
“I still can’t believe you hadn’t told her anything.”
“I’d hoped not to upset her.” He laughed breezily. “Though Zoya’s certainly won my mother over now, with her regular deliveries of coffee.”
“Stop, or you’ll make me want a cup.” She’d had to cut her intake of the delicious Ethiopian brew drastically since learning she was an expectant mother. And Manny, being the doting husband that he was, had gone as far as to abstain from his regular caffeine jolts, too, for her sake.
She couldn’t love him more—and yet she did.
Amal stared deep into his eyes and knew she could stand there snuggling in his arms and looking at him forever. “I’m glad it all worked out for the best,” she said.
“Even better than I could’ve dreamed it would,” he murmured against her lips, and he kissed her slow and sweet and nearly robbed her of breath.
But not before she asked him, “Have I mentioned how much I love you?”
“Only every day. You’ll never let me forget, will you?”
“No, not ever,” she vowed with a smile, kissing him again.
And she never did.
* * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Caribbean Nights with the Tycoon by Andrea Bolter.
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Caribbean Nights with the Tycoon
by Andrea Bolter
CHAPTER ONE
