by Sophia Lynn
Despite the anger and sorrow that had been simmering in her, Emily was still impressed with the clothes they brought in. If she had ever doubted that Adnan was truly the sheikh of Nahr, the richness on display here dispelled those doubts. The clothes that the two women tossed around so casually were made of pure silk. The traditional garments were studded along the sleeves and the necklines with what looked like real gems.
Emily had never in her life been able to even touch garments like that before, and now she was being encouraged to try them on. At first, she did it simply because Bina and Masha were so insistent, but when she pulled on the first gown, she gasped.
Emily had always known that she was pretty enough, more likely to be called cute than beautiful. Now, she realized that had something to do with the clothes that she wore. She was cute when she was running around town in jeans and a T-shirt. When she was dressed in a sweeping traditional tunic embroidered with silk and set with sapphires, or a long sleeveless gown that clung to her like a second skin, she barely recognized herself.
“You two do amazing work,” she said, and the two women beamed.
“It is more that you are a lovely jewel that has always needed a fine setting,” declared Bina. “These are the clothes you should have been wearing all your life, the ones that suit you best. We will take your old clothes and throw them away; there is no reason to keep them at all.”
Seeing as those clothes had been given to her by slavers, she was more than happy to see the last of them. Still, a part of her could not really understand that the clothes were hers, even as she pulled on a lovely green tunic and trousers set. It was plain, but the quality of the silk and slight embroidery at the hems was obvious. When her hair was half-covered with a sheer scarf, she looked understated but enormously fashionable.
“All this so I can go home?” she wondered.
Just then, one of the bodyguards knocked on the door.
“Are you almost ready?” he asked politely. “The plane leaves in less than two hours, and I do not want you to be inconvenienced.”
“No, of course I will be ready,” she said. “Just…just let me get myself together…”
It wasn't like she had much to pack. Bina and Masha assured her that the rest of the clothes would be sent along, and she could simply walk out with what she was wearing.
When the bodyguard showed her to the waiting car, she realized with a sinking heart that Adnan wasn't going to show up. After what had passed between them, she could not say she was surprised, but a part of her couldn't believe it.
Twice in her life, he had had an unimaginable impact on who she was and what happened to her. The first time, he had appeared, caught her heart as easily as a man might pluck a flower from a field, and then disappeared. This time, he appeared, saved her from a dark fate, and…disappeared again, almost as quickly.
She thought wryly that perhaps the third time he would stay, but then she would have to have some serious bad luck to need his intervention again.
No, she told herself, this was for the best. He was a sheikh after all, and she was, well, a nobody. The passion that passed between them had been amazing for her, something she would remember for the rest of her life, but if she was honest with herself, it was likely just another day for him.
Emily decided that she was being very adult and very mature about it indeed, and she would even have been proud of herself if she could just stop crying. In the car, tears stung at her eyes, but the idea of losing her composure in front of the professional driver had helped her control them. She might not have had much dignity left to lose, but she had some of it. She had managed to restrain herself until she boarded the sleek little jet that was waiting at the private airfield.
There were only six seats on the jet, but there was still a smiling attendant who wanted to know if she needed anything or if she was hungry. When the woman retreated to her own private compartment on the plane, Emily finally let the tears fall. They began slowly at first, dripping from beneath her closed eyelashes. She was able to dab those away, but then, as if encouraged, they started to come faster and faster, until she was sobbing into the cloth napkin tucked into the side bin of her seat.
Emily barely noticed the plane start its run down the strip or when it finally gained the air. When she next looked out the window, she could see nothing but the clouds beneath her, nothing but the blue skies above her.
I am going home, Emily thought, and she knew that she should be elated, but she felt a resounding emptiness in her where her heart should be.
Adnan…
She loved him. She knew that now, but the knowledge brought her neither joy nor comfort. His would be the face that she held up at night, and it would be his charm, his strength, and his beauty that she used to judge other men.
Perhaps that was what stung the most, that he would be a permanent part of her mind and her heart when she had been such a temporary part of hers.
She shook her head. Emily knew that she had her entire future in front of her, and it did not contain Adnan. It would be better if she got used to that now.
Chapter Eleven
Emily's suspicions awoke after they landed in Nahr. She had expected that there would be a connecting flight that would get her back to the United States. Instead of being guided to a commercial flight, however, two suited men escorted to the parking lot, where a sleek black sedan was waiting for them.
“No, this is wrong,” she said in confusion. “I am meant to be going back to the United States.”
The men looked down at her politely, but there was nothing yielding about them.
“Our orders are to get you safely to the sheikh's residence at the Plaza,” one said, and from the serious way they looked at her, she could tell that they meant it.
“No,” she repeated, as if speaking more loudly and more clearly would help them understand. “I was kidnapped. I was sold. Sheikh Adnan…he rescued me. I am supposed to go back to America.”
The man speaking to her shook his head. “I am sorry. My orders come from the sheikh himself. He says that you are to be taken to his residence.”
Emily had shed so many tears over the plane trip that she could find no fresh ones for what came next. Instead, all she could find in her was rage.
“No,” she said, loudly enough for a passing group of businessmen to look up in concern. “No, I refuse. I am not leaving here unless it is to get on a plane that is going to take me back to the United States. I do not care what the sheikh says.”
The man looked pained.
“Then perhaps it is best that you speak to him about it,” he said, and in that moment, Emily understood that she could enter the car of her own free will, or she could be picked up and placed in it.
“Fine,” she said, forcing every bit of icy civility she could muster into the word. “I will.”
She got into the car with dignity, noting the driver's relief. He wasn't the one that she was angry with after all, and when she calmed down, Emily realized she didn't want to make his life harder. No, the one who had made this happen to her was Adnan, and when she got to the Plaza, wherever it was, she was going to demand answers.
At least, that was how it was supposed to go.
The Plaza turned out to be the tallest skyscraper in Nahr, a beautiful glass and steel monument to Nahr's prosperity. The lower levels were a riot of exclusive shops and boutiques, food vendors and purveyors of the rare and exotic. Above them were the most powerful businesses in Nahr, along with several government offices. Far above them was the two-story penthouse reserved exclusively for the sheikh's use.
As she traveled up the elevator, still under the watchful eye of a guard, Emily wasn't sure she had ever felt quite so much like an imposter. In her green silk ensemble, she looked like many of the other elegant shoppers that populated the Plaza, except for her blonde hair. She knew deep in her heart, however, that she was out of her element, completely lost in the midst of all the opulence. This was Adnan's world, not hers, so
why had he brought her here?
No answers waited for her at the penthouse. Instead, when the elevator doors whooshed open, she realized quickly that Adnan wasn’t there. The guard took his leave, and all she could do was wander around the space in wonder. The enormous floor to ceiling windows of the living room looked out over the broad sweep of the city. The sky was already taking on a hint of lavender as the sun began its descent; she could tell that the sight would be spectacular.
Emily found a folded note with her name on it in the middle of the marble coffee table. For a moment, she only held it in her hands. It was as if everything lay under a deep spell, and the moment she read what the note had to say, it would all change.
Emily,
I wish I could be here to greet you, but unfortunately, business has called me to parliament. I have been remiss in my duties while I was in Mirago, and now I must attend to them again.
However, I will be free by eight this evening, and I will meet you at the Swan and Sword, a restaurant that has hosted members of my family since time out of mind. Bina and Masha tell me that you will have something to wear by that time. I am looking forward to seeing you in the beauty that you deserve.
I hunger for the sight of you.
—Adnan
Emily's eyes narrowed. The command was implied, but it was there. What was he playing at, keeping her in Nahr? Who did he think he was?
The answer was clear the moment the question formed in her head. He was the sheikh of Nahr, and she knew that here, in the city he ruled, no single voice could gainsay him.
She looked around at the penthouse. In some ways, it was simply a more beautiful cage.
“Fine,” she said out loud. “If he thinks he can order me around, he's welcome to try.”
Some part of her wanted to slouch into the Swan and Sword with the dirtiest, grubbiest clothes she could find. Her old clothes had been trashed, however, and her new clothes, which arrived on a silver rack pulled by discreet staff, were too much to resist.
After a moment of doubt, she gave in to temptation and pulled a rose-colored set from the rack. The raw silk was crisp against her skin, and when she looked in the mirror, she saw with surprise that she looked like a lady, like someone who might very well be going to dinner with a sheikh.
“I have no idea what is going on,” Emily confessed to her reflection, but it had no advice to offer her.
Finally, when the time came, she went downstairs in her gifted finery and was guided into the same black sedan that had brought her from the airport.
The Swan and Sword was a surprisingly humble place, or at least that was what she thought looking at the small stone establishment. There were a few tables on the ground level, all empty, but the solicitous proprietor led her down the broad basement stairs, and she gasped. A large stone grotto hid underneath the restaurant, rough stone walls and timber ceiling illuminated by flickering candle light. Tables covered with gleaming white tablecloths dotted the space, but they were all empty except for one in a recess in the stone, slightly obscured by sheer red curtains. At that table, Adnan waited, dressed impeccably in a gleaming tuxedo.
Emily swallowed hard, and for a moment, all she wanted to do was to step away, to run up the stairs and out into the street. He was the man who had been the source of so much pain for her. He had saved her when her life was at its darkest, but he had also held her heart in his hands and squeezed.
She began walking towards him, and when she came close, he stood and took her hand, bowing over it and kissing her knuckles lightly. From another man, it would have been corny and false, ridiculous to say the least. From Adnan, it felt perfect.
For a moment, Emily simply wanted to give herself to this fantasy, to the idea that this was a normal night for her. He was the sheikh, and instead of being a musician or even a slave, she was a lady, a woman comparable to him in wealth and breeding. They would speak of nothing and everything over their impeccably served dinner, and then later, they would be only themselves, rolling naked in the sheets.
Instead, she was no one but herself, and she knew she did not belong here.
“Adnan,” she said, her voice level. “I thought you were going to send me home. What's going on here?”
She could see that several things occurred to him at once. Finally, he came to some sort of inner decision, and instead of responding, he pulled out a chair for her.
“Sit,” he said. “I will explain everything to you at the proper time.”
Emily narrowed her eyes. “I won't,” she said. Her voice was low but full of fury. “For the last week, I have had absolutely no say in what is happening in my life, no choice. You rescued me, but right now, the only difference between you and the people who took me is money and an attractive face. Adnan, I am sick of being a piece of baggage that people can pick up and move as they like.”
“I understand that,” he said. “I am sorry for what has happened to you. Right now, sit down, and I will tell you everything you need to know.”
“No!” she said, her voice rising enough to cast an echo against the stone walls. “No! I have been silent long enough! You have kept me in the dark, you have shuttled me from place to place like…like cargo and…”
She had no idea what she was going to say, but then Adnan wrapped his arms around her. It should have simply made her angry. This man had a way of overwhelming her, and right now, it should have sent her anger through the roof.
But this was Adnan, and there was no one like him in the world. The moment his arms were around her, she felt a deep peace go through her, and though she knew that she should have fought, she simply rested her head against his broad chest as his hand cupped the back of her head.
“I'm sorry,” he murmured, an edge of real regret in his voice. “For everything that you have suffered. For everything that has happened to you because of me. Darling one, I am so sorry. What I hope…what I pray is that at the end of this, you will forgive me.”
“I have already forgiven you,” she said, painfully aware that she was on the edge of tears again. “I always seem to.”
“That is good,” he said, that crooked smile beautifully familiar to her. The entire day, she had fended off the idea of possibly never seeing it again, and despite everything that had happened, she felt a surge of relief.
“Please sit with me. I promise I will explain everything to you.”
Emily nodded, because in truth, she wanted nothing more than to sit down with Adnan. She let him push the chair in behind her, and when he took his place across from her, her heart beat faster.
“You know, I used to dream of this,” she said. Hurt and time had obscured the memory, left her feeling a little more sympathetic toward her previous self, but there was still an edge to it.
“Really?” Adnan said.
“Yes. When we met, I dreamed of growing up to be this…this elegant woman in beautiful clothes who would meet you at places like this. We would talk about everything in the world, a perfect match for each other, and you would look at me and…”
“And?”
She shook her head, a blush coming up to her cheeks.
You would say that you loved me. That you had never encountered another woman like me.
“I was just a kid,” she said instead. “I had a lot of dreams, a lot of things that were never going to come true.”
“You have your music,” he said. “Beautiful music, and a real talent for composition. That is not nothing.”
“You know my music?” Emily asked, too startled to be wary.
“I do. In between listening to old men tell me how I should do my job, I found some of your demo pieces online. You are an amazing artist, Emily.”
She wondered if she should be warier of his praise, but right then, all she could do was blush, a slight smile on her face.
“It…keeps me fed and housed,” she said. “I hope it might do more someday. They…they took me right after a gig.”
A muscle jumped in Adnan's jaw when sh
e mentioned her abduction. She wondered if it was some kind of offense that his countrymen would treat her so brutally, but then he took her hand in his.
“That should never have happened to you,” he said. “I am so sorry that it did, and if I could go back in time to prevent it, I would.”
“It wasn't your doing,” she said, looking down. “The blame belongs to the people who took me. Not you, not your country. I know that.”
She wondered if she saw Adnan relax slightly. At that point, however, their food came. Some of her stress dissolved when she smelled it. Suddenly she was starving, and though she knew that she needed to talk with Adnan and figure out what the hell was going on, she couldn't resist digging into the creamy chicken stew and rice.
“I still want to know what's going on,” she warned him, and Adnan smiled at her.
“It will keep while you eat, for sure,” he said, and she had to assume he was right.
The food was delicious, a perfect blend of comfort and exciting spices, and when she finally stopped, she sighed.
“You have got a great thing going,” she said, making Adnan raise an eyebrow.
“And what does that mean?” he asked.
“You bring me here, you give me beautiful clothes to wear, you give me delicious food, and no matter what you tell me, it's going to be softened by all of that. Well done.”
“You sound less angry than I thought you might,” Adnan said. “I'll admit, I perhaps had that in mind.”
She shot him a vaguely amused look, or at least a well-fed one.
“All right,” she said. “What's going on? Why am I here instead of on a plane to America? Why are you spending so much cash on dressing me like I'm some kind of doll?”
“It is very simple,” he said, his voice level. “It is because I own you.”
It felt as if the air between them froze. For a solid ten seconds, Emily honestly thought that she had misheard Adnan, that she had somehow not heard what she knew she had.
“What?” Her voice was as flat as a board.
“I paid money for you, a great deal of it, and by ancient law, you belong to me.”
