With a heart suddenly cold with grief, he spun on his heel and left the room for the first time in a week, since she’d fallen before his eyes.
Finally, Grace managed to push her eyes open, but the blinding brightness of the day made her shut them almost immediately.
“She’s awake!” Rupert’s voice, unmistakable, warm, and relieved, brought a weak smile to her face. But she gasped as she felt pain zing through her cheeks.
“Thank God,” Ashley came to stand beside his best friend, and together they looked at the woman they both adored. “Shut the blinds, Rupe. It’s too bright for her in here.”
She nodded, incapable of speech, but her friend the doctor had of course, known what she needed.
With a hand that felt heavy from disuse, she motioned to her throat, and mouthed croakily, “Thirsty.”
Ashley smiled reassuringly. “That’s normal, honey. You’ve had a tube down your throat for the last week.”
Grace’s eyes flew wide. Rupert held a plastic cup of water in front of her, angling the straw so that she could sip it a little more easily.
“What happened?”
Ashley and Rupert shared a look over her head. “We’re not sure, Gracie,” Ashley finally said. He was using his best, Doctor Inquisitive voice. Gentle yet encouraging. She would have smiled except her mouth felt stiff. “Do you remember anything?”
There was something in her mind but it was like trying to catch soap in the bath. Slippery and elusive, difficult to grasp. She shook her head gently from side to side.
“That’s okay.” Rupert sat down on the edge of the bed and put his hand over hers. “Don’t worry, Grace. We’re here now. And you’re going to be just fine.”
She was strangely zapped of energy and she fell asleep again almost immediately. Ashley explained, the next time she woke up, that she’d been put into an induced coma and that the drugs were still in her system. “Plus, you’re on quite the dazzling array of pain killers.”
A loud noise from outside made her head feel like it had been cleaved in two and Ashley winced apologetically. “I’ll go check on that.” He stood and moved from the room as if a tiger was on his tail.
Samir stood before him, being blocked by a furious and protective Rupert, from entering Grace’s room. To the King’s credit, he looked almost as bad as Grace did. His eyes were shadowed with black bags, and his skin was ashen.
“Rupert’s right, mate. You can’t go in there.”
“She is to be my wife. You have no right to tell me I may not see her.”
“Until she remembers what happened, we’re not going to let you within two feet of her,” Rupert said through gritted teeth.
“You think I hurt her,” Samir said with an expression of pain. “Ask Grace. She’ll tell you what happened.”
“She doesn’t remember,” Ashley said gently. He was finding it hard to believe that this man was truly capable of violence. Still, her crumpled body was the result of quite an extensive beating.
“I could have you thrown in prison,” Samir reminded them grimly.
“Just go ahead and try it, your highness,” Rupert said sarcastically. “It’s the only way you’ll get to her.”
Samir let out an impatient oath.
“Look,” Ashley moved between them. “Grace is still recovering. She’s groggy and unsure. She’s in a lot of pain. Why don’t you wait a couple of days? She’ll have remembered more by then.”
Samir knew the smart thing to do was leave. They were her friends. She had asked for Rupert, not him. But he needed to see her for himself.
Silently, he gestured over their heads and immediately, security guards appeared. “Hold these men until I return.”
“Bastard,” Rupert called to Samir’s retreating back. “Coward.”
Samir compressed his lips and mentally prepared himself. But nothing could have readied him for the sight of Grace when he entered. He let out an oath and strode to her side. Her beautiful face was still dark with bruises, though now there was yellow beneath the black. Her eyes were bloodshot beneath the blue, and her exposed arms were scratched and bruised, with scabs where blood had gushed that horrible evening. IV drips were inserted into both hands, which meant she was holding herself at an awkward angle.
Grace stared at Samir and it all came rushing back. At first, in an overwhelming outpouring of complete love, and then hurt, as she remembered the last thing he’d said to her. “My son will be raised here.”
She closed her eyes and angled her face away from him.
Samir couldn’t help himself; he leaned forward and ran a hand through her hair. Her silky blonde hair, and his whole body ached with the contact.
“What have I done?” He said to no one in particular. He remembered Grace as she had been when he’d rediscovered her in London, so vibrant and happy. She was a shell of that woman now. “Oh, Grace, I’m so sorry.” He sat down on the seat beside her and cradled his head in his hands.
He had the strangest sense that he might actually cry. And he had never cried. Not even when his father had died.
With a voice so croaky it hardly sounded like his songbird angel, she whispered into the room, “Not your fault.”
“It’s all my fault,” he disagreed. He lifted her hand in his, fingering the heavy engagement ring she still wore. “If I hadn’t forced you into this…”
She squeezed her eyes shut tighter.
“I would never take Jacob away from you,” he said with a voice that wasn’t quite even. “Never.”
It was the last thing Grace heard before she slipped into another period of restless sleep.
When she awoke, Samir was still there, his head in his hands, his broad shoulders looking like they held the weight of the world. Something had happened and Grace felt much better than before. She cleared her throat, wincing as the rawness reminded her that she still had a way to go in her recovery.
Samir had told her he wouldn’t take Jacob from her. What did it mean?
“What time is it?” She asked.
He lifted his head groggily, tossing a glance at his watch. “It’s three in the morning.”
“I’ve been here a whole day?” She blinked. “Where’s Jacob?”
He frowned. “You’ve been here a fortnight,” he said gently. “Jacob’s fine,” he rushed to reassure her. “He’s made himself quite at home at the palace, and has swiftly wrapped everyone around his little finger.”
Grace’s smile hurt a little less this time. He watched the way it transformed her face and a strange sense of freedom engulfed him. It was a God awful time, but he had no choice.
“Grace, do you remember how I told you I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you?”
She looked at him from eyes that stung with unshed tears.
“When you fell down the stairs, I realized what that really means. I don’t want anyone or anything like I want you. Not my kingdom, nor my crown. Nothing. I just want to spend my life with you, and our son. But I can’t force you to stay here. To marry me. I was deranged to even attempt this.” He shook his head. “Don’t say anything. I know you must want to kill me, right now. I just didn’t want you to worry about my stupid threat to make you marry me. When you want to go home, you’ll have my blessing.”
She felt a strange ache inside her heart and she lifted her hand to her chest.
Samir leaned forward. “Grace, are you okay?”
Slowly, she moved her head side to side. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He frowned. “I love you. I always have. I thought that telling you the truth of who I am would make you run a mile. So I didn’t. I did the one thing I could to get everything I wanted, but it backfired spectacularly. I realized that having you by my side simply because I’d bullied you into it was not the same as having you there because you chose to love me, and only me.”
She turned her face away from him, simply because the sight of his obvious misery and concern was making it impossible to decipher what he had said. “Is
this another trick?”
“No. Ashley and Rupert are here. I’ve told them they can escort you and Jacob home if that’s what you choose.”
She sobbed and it felt like a gun had exploded in her chest. She coughed and coughed, until a doctor ran into the room, his face lined with worry. A heated exchange occurred in Elaminarn, and Grace gathered the upshot of it was that Samir needed to leave her.
“I will come back in a few hours,” he promised. “In the morning.”
“Jacob?” She whispered throatily.
Samir’s heart flipped over with the realization of what he’d been threatening to take from this woman. “The doctors say you should wait to see him.”
“Don’t want to wait,” she murmured. The doctor had injected something new into her IV and it was taking affect instantly.
“It’s for his sake, sweet love,” Samir said quietly.
Grace fell asleep but his words came back to her the next day, when the sunlight streaming through her window awoke her. Gingerly, she turned her head and peered around. Her phone was on the side table, but she had to stretch to reach it. In doing so, she felt like she’d been slashed through the sides. She cried out in pain and resettled herself in her bed. The phone could wait.
When he walked in the next day, almost the first thing he saw was that her engagement ring was off her finger. She was staring out the window, her expression impossible to read. A belt tightened around his chest as he realized that she’d made her decision.
And what else could he have expected? Of course she was leaving him. She’d never really been his in the first place. Not from the moment he’d decided to lie to her, anyway. With a heavy sigh, he crossed the room and placed a kiss against her forehead. He had meant just to press his lips to her skin, but when he felt her warmth and inhaled her unique and sweet scent, he was unable to break the kiss. He held his lips there, wondering if it was the last time he would ever be so close to her.
With a sinking feeling, he straightened and moved to the other side of the room.
“You look better today.” And she did. Her bruises were almost all yellow now, and her eyes were no longer blood shot. She even had a little of her natural color in her cheeks.
“Thank you. Would you please pass me my phone?”
He frowned but did as she’d asked. She loaded up the camera and gasped at the face that stared back at her. “I’m a mess.” She ran her fingers over her cheeks. Cheeks that were all speckled with bruised flesh, and her lips that were marked and swollen. “My goodness. I did a number on myself.”
“You fell spectacularly,” he said with mock admiration. Then, passing a hand over his eyes to erase the image, he said, more seriously, “I’ve never felt more afraid in my life.”
“You? I can’t imagine you’ve ever been afraid of anything.”
His lips curled in an imitation of a smile. “Perhaps not until that night. I was certain you were dead.” He shuddered as he remembered the sight of her body, bent in all the wrong ways, at the bottom of the stairs.
“I was upset. I lost my footing.”
He nodded, swallowing past a sudden lump in his throat. “You were upset because I treated you in the worst possible way. It’s my fault, Grace. I will never forgive myself. And you shouldn’t either.”
She turned her attention to the view beyond the window, watching the waves rolling into the beach below. He was right. The water was the most spectacular blue she’d ever seen; the sand impossibly white. She sighed heavily. “I know.”
He turned away from her, unable to look at her when she spoke the answer to the question he was about to ask. “The doctors say you should be able to travel by the end of the week. When do you think you’d like to leave?”
Grace looked at his back. She’d trusted this man once before, and she’d been sure it had been a mistake. But now? “I’m not leaving.”
He spun around so fast that he thought he’d given himself whiplash. “What are you saying?”
“You’re an idiot, Samir.” And through the pain, she tried to smile at him. “Of course I would have married you if I’d known the truth. Love isn’t fickle or changeable. I love you. Completely. I was furious at you for keeping so much from me. And when you actually tried to tell me you would keep Jacob here if I wanted to leave you, I’m pretty sure I wanted to stab you.”
“A valid response,” he said uncertainly.
“You are not the first person to go crazy because of love,” she said gently.
“You are too generous, Grace. Too trusting.”
“I don’t think so.” She tried to shrug but it made her wince instead. “I trust you. I always have.”
“I don’t deserve you,” he growled, and with arms that were as gentle as he could make them, he lifted her from the hospital bed, and cradled her against his warm, hopeful chest.
“Probably not,” she answered seriously, “but I think you’re stuck with me this time.”
His laugh was low.
“Samir, were you serious? Would you really have given up your title if I’d asked it of you?”
“In a heartbeat. Is that what you want?”
“No. I see now that being King is who you are. I would have seen it from the beginning if your other qualities hadn’t overwhelmed all my senses.”
“But what about your career?” His face was etched with worry. “If being King is who I am, surely being the most beautiful and talented actress in the world is who you are.”
She blushed at his over-the-top compliment. “I will perform again. I don’t want to give up what I do. But right now, the role I want to play is your wife, and Jacob’s mother. Does that make me an embarrassment to the female cause?”
He grinned. “I don’t think you could ever be an embarrassment to anyone.” He sobered then, shaking his head with a slow, aching gratitude. “I am going to spend the rest of my life showing you that this is the right decision.”
“Starting when?”
“What do you mean?” He twisted a length of her hair around his finger, as always, bewitched by its golden incandescence.
“When can we marry? I don’t want another Irena to come along and snap you up while I’m lying here like a paralyzed lobster.”
He laughed. “No chance. I am not leaving your side until you come home, and even then, not ever. As for our marriage,” he looked down at her hand and frowned, rubbing the spot where her ring had once been, “it will be arranged just as soon as you are able to walk down the aisle.”
“I took my ring off,” she said simply.
“I noticed. I was sure you had decided against me.”
“No. I didn’t feel our engagement got off to the best start. I want you to do it again. And this time, we’ll both know it’s for real.”
He grinned broadly and picked the ring up between his fingers. He eased himself to one knee, and took her beautiful hand in his. “Grace Jones, you are everything in this world to me. You gave me so much, by bearing my son, but by giving me your heart, you make me feel like more of a man than I’ve ever known possible. I adore you, and worship you, and I would be the happiest man on earth if you would agree to marry me.”
Tears were threatening to fall and she blinked them away. Not caring that her smile was making her cheeks feel laced with daggers, she nodded. “Without a doubt, yes. A million times over. Yes.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
"Stop fussing, mum," Grace teased gently, holding her hands out to her mother in the hope it would stop her from primping the elaborate skirt of Grace's gown.
"I can't help it, darling. You just look so beautiful. You look like a real life princess."
Grace grinned. "Well, I guess that's something."
"I just can't believe you're getting married. Today!"
Grace looked at her reflection in the mirror. She could hardly believe it herself. After all, it had only been a couple of months since she and Jacob had come to Elaminar, and in that time, she'd fallen madly in love with the country, an
d Samir's family, too. He had been right. Any doubts she might have felt about leaving her life in London behind had begun to evaporate the minute he'd told her she and Jacob were free to go at any time. It had been the one thing he could say that was capable of making her forgive him. The one thing that would prove his love.
Since then, though, he'd shown her in a million and one ways how much he cared. Not a day went by when she didn't realize how totally he worshipped her.
"I'd ask if you were sure about all this, but you're glowing from the inside out." An idea occurred to Maureen Jones and she gripped Grace by the wrists. "Oh, Grace, you're not glowing, glowing, are you?"
"Glowing? As in pregnant?" Grace whispered back. "Heavens, no. Vera Wang might have flown over and strangled me herself if I couldn't make it into this dress." Besides, Samir had been frustratingly resolute about holding off until their wedding night. Given they had a child together, it seemed a little ridiculous, but he had not bowed to any of Grace’s attempts at persuasion. In fact, her husband- to-be had spent the last few nights away from Grace. Absence was supposed to make the heart grow fonder, or so they said, but it had made every single part of Grace love him more and more. She wanted to get this wedding over and done with so she could just get on with life with Samir by her side.
"Gracie? We're ready for you, angel."
Grace looked towards the doorway at the exact moment her father strode in. Ever the showman, he was dressed in a tuxedo with a rather garish red tie, but even that couldn't burst Grace's bubble of pure pleasure today.
"Ready and very willing. Is Samir there?"
"Of course. Looking anxiously towards this door every few minutes."
Grace let out a laugh. Despite the fact she was itching to begin and end the official event, she encompassed both of her parents in one glance. "He can wait a few more minutes. Come on. I haven't had my mother and father together in the same room in years. Why don't we have a cup of coffee first?"
It was a surprisingly nice moment, and it almost managed to steady her nerves. In fact, Grace was so blown away by the civil conversation her parents shared that she almost forgot she was about to walk out into the biggest moment of her life.
One Night with The Sheikh: An accident of fate brought them together, and it would bind them for the rest of their lives. Page 12
