by Nalini Singh
Another knife joined the first.
He forced himself to remember the reason for his anger. There was no reason for him to feel as if he’d broken something beyond value. Except he couldn’t think for the anger and pain blinding him. The wounded thing inside him was in agony, but he refused to acknowledge that, refused to examine exactly why this betrayal hurt with the pain of a thousand suns on his naked skin. He’d survived Jasmine once before and he’d do it again.
Even if what he felt for her was a hundred times stronger than before…and the pain threatened to drive him to madness.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THEY LANDED IN ZULHEIL midmorning. Jasmine couldn’t help but remember her first trip through the gleaming white corridors. Then, she’d believed that if she loved him enough, the man beside her would grow to love her, too.
Now, she knew that if he could convict her on such flimsy evidence, he had to have no trust in her loyalty. And no love in his heart. She’d failed to make him see that she was worth loving, and if Tariq couldn’t see that, then the flaws in her had to be fatal. Battered by emotional storms, her defenses crushed, Jasmine couldn’t fight those old demons any longer.
Once they reached the palace, she let Tariq haul her through the corridors, humiliating as it was, knowing that if she fought, he was angry enough to do something truly unforgivable. But when, after pulling her into his bedroom, he turned to leave, she stopped him. She wasn’t someone he could lock away and forget.
“Where are you going?”
Tariq didn’t even look at her. “Abraz.”
Speak to me, she wanted to cry. Give me something to hold on to. Even after his accusations and distrust, her heart refused to give up. She loved him. Needed him. And this time, she would fight for him until there was no hope. “Why?”
He did look at her then, his eyes dark green with pure fury. “I am going to marry my second wife. You no longer amuse me. Perhaps she will have more loyalty than you have shown.”
Jasmine’s heart turned to ice. “You’re taking another wife?”
“I will marry her in Abraz. You would do well to get used to a submissive role.”
“How can you do this to me?” She prayed that he was only striking back at her because he was angry at her supposed betrayal. Then she remembered gorgeous Hira. Hira, who’d wanted to marry Tariq…and who lived in Abraz. Hira, the glamourpuss princess that Sarah had taunted her with so long ago. Jasmine’s worst nightmare had just come to life.
Tariq’s beautiful face was cruel with distaste as his merciless eyes raked her trembling body. “The same way you plotted to betray me.”
“No! I didn’t. Why don’t you believe me?” She reached out to grab the edge of his jacket, but he shrugged her off.
“I do not wish to be late.” Throwing her another dismissive glance over her shoulder, he walked out the door.
Jasmine didn’t go out to the balcony this time. At that moment, something priceless deep inside her broke with an almost audible snap. But she couldn’t allow herself to feel the pain, because if she did, she’d die from the wound. Instead, as a self-defense mechanism, she started to plan her escape. She’d been prepared to put up with Tariq’s anger, his distrust, even his rejection of her, but this…
“I will never share him. Never.”
Sarah’s derisive voice seemed to haunt her, telling her she hadn’t been woman enough to hold her husband.
“No!” Sarah had probably only meant to cause a fight, but Tariq’s deep-rooted distrust of his wife had given her the greatest of victories. Jasmine refused to give her vindictive sister any more power.
Spinning on her heel, she walked to her room and locked the door. She needed to think. There was no way she was going to get a flight out of Zulheil. Tariq would have alerted his men to watch for any attempt on her part. He wanted her to suffer. He wanted to punish her. Previously, she’d let him, certain that her love would win through.
“Not anymore.” He’d gone too far this time.
She couldn’t take to the roads. The border guards were well-trained and scrupulous. Aside from that, her red hair was a beacon of recognition among the desert people.
“Water.” She stopped, her heart pounding. Zulheil had a narrow seacoast and a thriving port. It would be relatively easy to slip on board one of the foreign ships when it stopped to refuel. Sailors were an independent lot, and the harbor authorities couldn’t monitor each and every individual movement. Aside from that, they were more worried with keeping people out of Zulheil than policing those wanting to depart.
She knew she had to leave everything behind, so that no one would guess her plan. That seemed to sum up her fate. She was leaving everything. Her heart. Her dreams. Her hope.
Taking a calming breath, she went to the small safe in the bedroom. After their marriage, Tariq had shown her the safe and told her that it would always hold cash for her use. At the time, she’d been touched by his thoughtfulness, but today, she just felt humiliated. Though she didn’t want to take his money, accessing her New Zealand savings accounts would immediately give away her plans. Shouldering aside her pride, she keyed in the combination. There was enough cash to buy her passage and support her for a few weeks.
As she turned away from the safe, a flash of silver on a corner chair caught her eye. She had finished the beautifully beaded blouse with such hope, just before their departure to Australia. Now she could barely bear the sight of it. She folded it up and left it on the bed, with a note for Mumtaz. Her friend might hate her for fleeing, but she was the one for whom Jasmine had chosen the material.
Once she was ready, she walked to her writing desk and picked up a pen. Her fingers threatened to shake under the force of her emotions, but she disciplined them with strength that came from somewhere so deep inside, she’d never known it existed before that instant.
Tariq,
Ever since I came to Zulheil, you’ve been waiting for me to betray you and leave. Today, I’ll live up to your lack of belief in me, but I won’t leave in silence like a thief.
I love you so much that every time I breathe, I think of you. From the moment we reunited, I had no thought of ever leaving you. You were my first love, my only love. I thought I’d do anything for you, even bear your punishment over my choice four years ago, but today I’ve discovered my limits. You’re mine and mine alone. How can you ask me to share you?
Your pride will urge you to search for me, but I beg you, if you ever had any feelings for me, please don’t. I could never live with a man who I loved but who hated me. It would kill me. I don’t know what I’ll do, I only know that my heart is broken and I must leave this place. Even if I never see you again, know that you’ll always be my beloved.
Jasmine al eha Sheik
Dry-eyed, her pain too great even for tears, she folded the letter and sealed it in an envelope. When she’d begun, she’d thought to pen something hateful, hurting him as much as he’d hurt her, but she couldn’t. Picking up her purse and the letter, she walked out to his study, the one place no one would venture until his return. She placed the letter in the center of his desk, where he would immediately see it. Her hands stroked the smooth mahogany in a final aching goodbye. In this room, they had come to learn about each other and she’d begun to help him shoulder his burdens.
“But it wasn’t enough.” Teeth gritted, she almost ran from the room, unable to bear the deluge of memories. Outside, she slipped on her sunglasses while the driver brought the car around. Within two minutes, she was on her way.
The beautiful minarets and colorful marketplace outside the windows of the car brought tears to her eyes. Her sense of loss was overwhelming. This place had become home. The exotic scents, the heavy heat, the bright-eyed and laughing people—they were all a part of her and would be forever.
Just like Tariq.
The docks were bustling. The driver parked in front of the popular waterside café she’d indicated. “I’m meeting a friend for lunch, so you can go elsewhere
if you wish.”
“I will wait here.” His dark eyes didn’t reflect his automatic smile.
She hadn’t expected anything else. Tariq had been in a rage, but he’d given orders designed to keep her prisoner.
The minute she stepped outside, people waved and called out. They had accepted her without question, these generous desert people. Yet not even for them could she bear to share Tariq. After greeting her people with forced smiles, she made her way into the restaurant and sought out the hostess.
“Jasmine al eha Sheik, you will take a table?” The woman was beaming.
“Thank you, but I was wondering if you could help me?” Her voice was soft, but didn’t waver as she’d half expected.
“Of course.” The hostess’s smile became impossibly wider.
“Somehow, a foreign news crew has managed to enter Zulheil and they’ve been tracking me. If you could show me your back entrance, my driver has instructed another driver to pick me up. It’s annoying to be hounded like this.”
The hostess’s eyes lit up. Jasmine knew she should feel guilty about lying to her, but she was too numb to care. The back door opened onto a narrow alley. Though the lane was clean, there was a deserted, quiet air about it. The hostess looked around, a frown wrinkling her face.
“There is no driver here.”
“Oh, he’s waiting down there. Thank you.” Before the woman could protest, Jasmine stepped out and began to stride confidently down the narrow cobbled path. Once out of sight, she changed direction and headed toward the water.
Lady Luck decided to give her a chance. A cruise ship was tethered at the docks, there only for a three-hour stop to refuel. In the crowd of European tourists allowed out to wander the docks, Jasmine no longer stood out. The authorities were vigilant about anyone attempting to get out, but nobody noticed a small female merging into the colorful mass of humanity.
Jasmine found that the cruise liner was happy to pick up an extra paying passenger, having lost some due to illness at the last stop. As an almost instinctive precaution, she used the New Zealand passport that had planted suspicions in Tariq’s mind. Globe-trotting Kiwis were more likely to be present on the ships in port than the reclusive people of Zulheil. Or perhaps she used it because she couldn’t bear to see her married name written there.
An hour later, she watched Zulheil’s sparkling sand retreat to the horizon. She stood on the deck, her cheeks whipped by the wind, unable to look away. A part of her believed that if she didn’t lose sight of the land, the final threads tying her to Tariq wouldn’t be cut. Then night fell, spelling an end to even that impossible dream.
THE MOON SHIMMERED OVER the minarets of Zulheina, but Tariq could find no surcease from the gnawing sense of loss that seemed to reach inside his soul and steadily eat away at any hope of happiness.
He’d been halfway to Abraz by the time his sense of betrayal and anger had dissipated, gentled by his homeland. Pulsing hurt had taken its place. He’d given Mina his heart and she’d cut it to pieces for a second time. He hadn’t quite known what he would do to survive. No one but Mina would ever be wife to him, but how could he remain with a woman who could betray him so easily?
His mind had kept replaying the most painful image—the naked agony in Mina’s eyes when he’d told her that he was taking another wife. That he was rejecting her, just as her family had. He’d felt as if he’d struck her, as if he was the one who needed forgiveness.
Something desperate and primitive in him had kept saying that he’d made a mistake and had to return home. Searching for any hint of hope, he’d finally stopped reacting and had started to listen.
When looked at logically, without the blindness caused by heartbreak, none of it made sense. If Jasmine had wished to leave him, she could have done so without Sarah’s help. Dread had crept into Tariq’s body when he’d realized that, but it was the memory of Jamar’s revelation that had almost stopped his breath. Why would the bodyguard tell him about betrayal in such a casual way—in the hallway of a hotel, where anyone could have overheard?
Unwilling to believe that the mixture of distrust and anguish in him had caused him to make such a terrible mistake, but knowing deep inside that he had, Tariq had ordered the car to return to Zulheina in all haste. The wild part of him that had always belonged to Mina had known. He’d picked up the phone in the back of the car for something to do, a shield against his fear that he’d lost his wife for good.
The guard had answered after one ring. “Sir?”
“Jamar, I was thinking of a gift for my wife and recalled what you said in Australia. Was Jasmine enthusiastic when her sister asked about booking tickets to New Zealand?” His hand had been clenched tight around the phone.
“I heard Jasmine al eha Sheik say that she was going to speak to you about whether you might have some free time. I believe she would enjoy the gift of a trip.” There had been a smile in his tone at being asked his opinion. “I was called away before I could ask if I could be her guard on any such trip. I know I ask much but…I did not like the feel of her sister.” The guard’s tone had been of someone expecting to be rebuked for the criticism, but he’d put his duty to protect above his own status. His judgment of Sarah also explained his scowling expression that day in Sydney.
“I agree, Jamar. And thank you.” Tariq had been barely able to speak. His blood cold with the realization of his incalculable error, he’d returned to Zulheina.
Too late.
Far too late.
The crackle of paper made him glance down in surprise. He felt as if he was looking at a stranger’s hand. A stranger who’d crushed the fragile material in his palm beyond recovery, with brutal efficiency. Uncurling those fingers that he was forced to acknowledge were his own, he pulled out the page and tried to flatten it against the dark wood of his desk. The whole time, he knew that no matter how hard he tried to smooth the wrinkles, it would never be enough.
As he would never again be able to enjoy the perfect joy of his Jasmine’s love. He’d beaten and battered her heart so many times, in so many different ways, and yet she’d continued to love him, her feminine courage quiet and strong. But even her generous nature wouldn’t forgive this most recent blow.
Tariq was prepared to accept that. He wasn’t prepared to accept that he’d lost her for good. The woman his Mina had grown into had changed him forever. Her strength, her ability to lead beside him, her glorious sensuality…she was irreplaceable. He couldn’t bear to live without the other half of his soul, even if she hated him.
“You belong to me, Mina.” Only the desert heard his voice. Only the desert sent sighs of agreement on the wings of the cool, evening wind. Only the desert understood his desolation…and his determination.
JASMINE SPENT THE ENTIRE voyage secluded in her cabin, eschewing attempts by the social activities’ staff to draw her out. She didn’t cry. Her tears were frozen in her heart along with the rest of her emotions. She just wanted to forget.
Except Tariq wouldn’t leave her alone. Each night, he came to her in her dreams, strong, virile, unwilling to accept her decision. She tossed and turned, her body covered with sweat, trying to fight him, but in the end he always won.
“You belong to me, Mina.” His hands stroked her.
“No.”
“Yes!” That male arrogance was apparent even in her dreams. His shoulders gleamed in the moonlight, as they’d done those nights they’d spent in the desert. The desert, where she’d learned that a warrior’s pride could be a harder thing to fight than any physical enemy.
“Tariq,” she whispered, reaching out a hand to touch that warm, tempting skin. Nothing met her searching hands but cold emptiness. “Tariq, no!” Invariably, she woke up with his name on her lips, a cry for him to believe her…to love her.
The liner docked at a number of Middle Eastern destinations, but she didn’t depart, not wanting to take the chance that someone might recognize her. Two weeks passed in self-imposed isolation. Then the ship made an unsched
uled stop on a small Greek island, due to a passenger’s need to disembark because of an emergency. Exhausted by her sense of loss and lack of sleep, Jasmine slipped off the ship and never returned. It was as good a place as any, she thought without enthusiasm. And because it wasn’t a scheduled stop, even if Tariq searched for her, he’d be unlikely to locate her.
She managed to find a small garret apartment after she left the ship. On the night she arrived, she curled up on the bed and couldn’t make herself move again. Thoughts of Tariq haunted her night and day, building shadows under her eyes and adding to the weight loss she’d suffered on board ship. Her mind replayed that final terrible fight over and over again, trying to find another way, another avenue. There were none.
“It’s over. Accept it,” she told herself each day, and each day she woke with her heart heavy with need and her body aching.
A week after her arrival, she dragged herself out the door, fighting the depression. She was strong, she told herself. She’d survive. So what if half her soul was missing? She’d given that away by choice. And she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. By chance, she saw a sign in a shop window seeking a seamstress. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door and walked inside.
That night, as she picked up a pair of scissors to begin an alteration, her numbness suddenly broke. It was as if her body realized that by doing something beyond bare survival, she’d decided to live again. With the sudden shift came thoughts and memories and heartache.
Her first emotion was fear—fear that she’d never forget Tariq. And then suddenly, she was terrified of forgetting. He lived inside her, part of her. Paradoxically, there was peace in knowing she would never stop loving him. Despite that knowledge, she avoided newspapers and magazines, aware that if she saw Tariq with his new bride, she would surely lose the tentative control she’d regained over her emotions.
