“When do we fly back to Raljahar?”
Her change of topic was a welcome relief, though he sensed his tempered response was part of her reason for doing so. “The flight is scheduled in the morning.”
“So soon? But you’ve hardly had time to enjoy Monaco. You didn’t even visit the beach.”
“I rarely do.”
“You work too hard,” she chided softly. Her fingers teased over the hair on his chest. “We’ll have to see about making sure you have more fun.”
His body stirred. “And I look forward to it, habiba.”
He caught her chin with one finger and lifted her head. She met his kiss eagerly, her soft fingers curling around his shoulders. When she made a soft moan, he realized the passion still burned in her as well.
Not breaking the kiss, Rafiq cupped her bottom and rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him.
What did it matter if they had an early flight? Sleep could be had on the plane.
The next day, however, came the reminder that Holly would never be at ease enough to sleep on a flight.
Rafiq watched her as they took off, her face pale and hands trembling, and he cursed quietly. As with the flight over here, he held her hand again and didn’t protest as her delicate fingers nearly squeezed the blood from his.
Frustrated he couldn’t do more to ease her fear, he let out a sigh of relief when they reached cruising altitude.
He unfastened his seatbelt and stood. Within seconds he had her unbelted and lifted into his arms. She gasped, her eyes squinting closed.
“Oh, please, what are you doing, Rafiq? I don’t want to move—”
“You will be safe, Holly. Trust me.” He strode through the open cabin to a small private room near the back.
The door closed behind him with a small kick of his foot, and then he moved to the bed.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Her words were pinched. “Not even for you will I join the mile-high club.”
Amusement pricked through his frustration, and his mouth twitched into a smile. “It is not my intent to seduce you but to help you relax.”
“I can’t relax. Not while we’re in the air.” She looked terrified and unsuccessfully defiant as she sat trembling in the middle of the bed with her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them.
His heart softened and sympathy swelled in his chest. He would do anything to ease her fear.
“What if I put on a movie—”
“It won’t help.”
Perhaps not, but he wasn’t through trying. Rafiq didn’t respond, reaching for a remote on the bedside desk. With a few clicks of the buttons, soft classical music began to fill the room. He set the remote back down on the table and walked back toward her. Pillows and blankets in dark burgundy and purple covered the bed. He’d had this room designed with the intent of giving him the comfort and luxury of home, because all too often he spent hours of his life in this plane.
Rafiq set a few of the pillows to the end of the bed and sat down next to her. He made sure his back was propped up against the headboard before sliding an arm around Holly’s tiny waist.
She didn’t protest, but her muscles tensed as he moved her against him.
“I know you are afraid, habiba. But I promise you—swear to you—nothing will happen.”
Holly didn’t reply but her head burrowed against him, and her arms slid around him.
There was a slight tap on the door. Rafiq called out in Arabic for the flight attendant to enter. The woman came into the room, her head lowered as she set the tray he’d requested before take off on the bedside table. And then she was gone as quickly as she’d come.
“You do not have to drink it, but I have requested a bit of brandy for you. It may help you relax.”
When she didn’t reply negatively, or at all, he took that as an indication she might be willing to try.
With his free arm, he reached for the short glass and brought it to her lips.
She hesitated only a moment before taking a small sip. And then another, wincing and coughing as she swallowed. “This is why I don’t drink this stuff,” she rasped. “My God, my throat is on fire.”
He smiled and took the nearly empty glass from her, setting it back on the table. Rafiq smoothed his hand down her back and remained silent. Waited and hoped his comforting touch, the music, and the bit of brandy would help her relax.
And she did. He felt the muscles ease from their rigid coils, the warmth of her sigh against his neck.
“I’ve never trusted anyone enough before,” she said softly. “Enough to have a drink in flight. Not with what happened.”
But she trusted him. His chest swelled and he closed his eyes, not ceasing in the gentle, comforting strokes down her back.
“Thank you, Rafiq. I won’t lie and say the fear is gone, but this is helping.”
“My father was the same way.”
“What do you mean?”
Rafiq hesitated. He hadn’t meant to make such a confession. He rarely spoke of his parents nowadays unless the subject was unavoidable. “My father despised flying. It literally made him sick to his stomach. He couldn’t get on a plane without at least two shots of Scotch.”
“Really? You wouldn’t lie to make me feel better?”
Rafiq grimaced. “If I was going to lie, habiba, I’m sure I could be quite a bit more creative.”
She lifted her head and her brows were furrowed in that adorable way. And her eyes, thankfully, were lacking most of the fear now.
Talking was a distraction as well, it seemed.
“What happened to your parents that day, Rafiq?”
This time it was his turn to have tension invade his muscles. He never discussed what had happened. Not with anyone. Darkness curled inside him, coiling through his blood and gripping his heart. He had the urge to run or retreat from this conversation.
But Holly needed him right now, and he wouldn’t abandon her. Not physically or emotionally.
Almost as if it were another person speaking, Rafiq heard himself answer, “My parents were killed in the same assassination attempt that nearly took my life.” He paused. “And the man responsible for the attack was my uncle.”
Chapter 14
Shock ripped through Holly, her heart twisting with the horrific words. Rafiq’s uncle had attempted to kill him? Had killed his own brother and sister-in-law?
“But why? Oh God, why would he do something so horrible?” Her voice broke and she tightened her grip on his robes.
“Because he wanted the Sheikhdom, and my father and I were the only people standing in his way.”
Holly struggled to swallow as emotion gathered thick in her throat. Even without looking at him, she could bring to mind the thick scar that ran across his face and down his neck. The horror of it all had her stomach churning with bile.
She shook her head and pressed her cheek against his chest. Despite the obvious fact he was here today, she needed to reassure herself he was alive. Hear his heart pumping blood through his veins. “How old were you?”
“Twenty-three.”
The same age she was now.
“I’m so sorry, Rafiq.”
Beneath her head she felt his nonchalant shrug. “It was nearly a decade ago. I was fortunate enough to survive, but my parents were not so lucky. I, however, was left with the face of a monster.”
“You don’t have the face of a monster. I wish you’d stop thinking that.” But it was clear his uncle had left a deep bitterness and distrust of human nature. “Your uncle was the monster. A horrific, heartless man.” She lifted her head from his chest, her own fear just a shred of her emotions now as she stared up at him.
Holly cupped his scarred cheek again, and muscles in his jaw flexed under her palm. His eyes were already hard as flint as he stared beyond her.
“To me you’ll always be a strong, handsome leader.” She shifted slightly to press a kiss against the groove in his face.
“Holly…�
� His body shuddered and his arms tightened around her.
“What happened to your uncle? I hope he’s in prison.”
“He was killed by one of my father’s guards before he could flee the palace.”
Relief slid through her. Not that she feared for Rafiq’s safety any longer—the man had guards everywhere—but that such an evil man no longer walked the streets.
Rafiq was lost in a memory and seemed barely aware of her presence anymore.
“Look at me, Rafiq.”
He blinked before glancing back at her. Her heart clenched at the pain she saw there, knowing he wouldn’t want her to see.
“Yes, you have a scar,” she said. “But it pales in comparison to the one your uncle left on your heart.”
His hand slid up to cover hers. “My people fear me, Holly.”
“Your people love you and are thrilled with what you’ve done for Raljahar. More than anyone, Rafiq, you should know better than to believe what you read.”
“It’s more than what the papers print.”
She almost argued with him, but there was truth to Rafiq’s words. “Maybe some of your people do fear you,” she said tentatively. “But it’s only because they have no idea who you truly are. Do you ever go out and visit with the people of your country?”
“Not often. There are risks…”
“Your guards will protect you—they’ve followed on our heels all week like dogs begging for a treat. Take them with you. You have a wonderful, beautiful country, Rafiq. And your people are warm and loving.”
He scowled. “I enjoy my palace.”
She laughed. “Of course you do, it’s paradise. I simply think your people would enjoy a bit of interaction with their Sheikh.”
“Hmm.” He didn’t sound convinced.
“They fear you because you’ve created this imposing image of yourself. And maybe your temper could…” She cleared her throat. “Use a little improving.”
He arched a brow, though fortunately his mouth quirked. “You think I’m short-tempered?”
“Well, a little, yes. I’ve seen you yell at your staff.”
Rafiq grunted but didn’t argue.
“All I’m saying is perhaps you should smile a little more. Crack a joke or two.”
“Crack a joke?” Now he did laugh softly. “Holly, you are a delight.”
Her breath caught at how much a genuine smile on his face could transform him. “Like that,” she whispered. “Rafiq, you’re mesmerizing. If people saw you the way I did, they wouldn’t help but fall…”
She didn’t finish her sentence, suddenly all too aware of what she’d been about to say. Of everything she’d been saying for the past few minutes. It seemed not only had the brandy loosened her fear, but her lips as well.
Rafiq pulled her wrist from his cheek and cradled it between his hands. He turned it over and brushed a kiss against her racing pulse.
Warm shivers ran through her and she just barely bit back a sigh. She swallowed hard instead and lifted her gaze to his. “Thank you for opening up to me. I know it wasn’t easy.”
“I am the one who owes appreciation, Holly.”
For what? she nearly blurted. For lecturing him on what a reclusive grouch he could be? God, she would never drink brandy again.
“You helped me remember who I am.”
She gave him a small smile. “Well, you helped make flying a bit more tolerable.”
“It was the brandy.”
“It was more than the brandy. It’s you holding me and talking to me. Whether you realize it or not, Rafiq. You’re actually quite the nurturer.”
You’ll be a good father some day. Holly had to bite her lip from saying the rest aloud. But the words were in her heart and it ached a bit to think about it. It was all too easy to imagine Rafiq with a small, dark-featured child on his lap, whom he would undoubtedly have with a woman of his country.
She closed her eyes because she knew the sudden wash of pain might be reflected there.
“Are you all right? Has the turbulence frightened you?”
Turbulence? She hadn’t even noticed the turbulence on the plane, only in her heart.
“I’m all right.” She pulled her hand away and cleared her throat. “But perhaps I could have some water?”
Rafiq didn’t hesitate, just moved to press a button that must’ve been hidden in the headboard somewhere. He spoke in Arabic, his words calm and soft, lacking the usual terse edge.
Perhaps he did heed her advice after all. The thought should’ve sent a thrill of pleasure through her, instead her stomach still churned from the thought of Rafiq and another woman.
She drew in a slow, calming breath. Her time with him had an expiration date. She’d known that going in, and she couldn’t allow herself to forget.
Rafiq was the Sheikh of Raljahar. A Sheikh. There was no future for them and he’d always been upfront with her. Perhaps his motives for bedding her no longer centered on revenge, but she wouldn’t delude herself into thinking they centered on the one thing she needed most.
Love.
On the drive back to the palace, Rafiq struggled with what had happened on the plane. He’d never intended to tell Holly quite so much of his past, to give her such an intimate glimpse at the pain and anger still lingering inside him.
Her points had been valid, but not new to him. They now raced through his mind as quickly as the limo moved through the city streets. He saw his country through different eyes, how Holly might’ve seen it.
He’d shut his people out, avoided interacting them, and done so deliberately. He’d rejected them before they could reject him.
Before he’d been scarred, the citizens of Raljahar had never taken him seriously. And why should they have, when he’d lived the life of an overindulged playboy? After his father had been murdered and Rafiq had taken over the Sheikhdom, their reaction had been a mix of fear and skepticism.
He’d proved their doubt wrong and built Raljahar into a thriving country, but he’d preferred to spend his time in the palace instead of watching the wariness and fear on his people’s faces when they saw him.
He stared out at the posh casino glittering in the distance. Observed the bustling shoppers filling the upscale mall that held a variety of designer shops.
But it was while passing Raljahar’s public marketplace that his chest swelled with pride. Adults and children waved with excitement as the limo sped by, the symbol of the Sheikhdom a discreet mark on the windows.
“They love you. Especially the children.”
Holly’s soft observation made him wince.
“They love the idea of a Sheikh who has turned the country around.” He shook his head. “I cannot even remember the last time I’ve had contact with a child.”
Her gaze skittered to his, shock reflecting in their depths. “Really? I can’t imagine. I love children.”
Children were more likely to fear him than be drawn to him, but he didn’t voice his thoughts aloud.
It didn’t surprise him Holly adored children; she seemed very much the mothering type. It had shown in the way she’d tried to protect her brother.
Her head turned again and she smiled and waved at the children. They wouldn’t be able to see her, but she didn’t seem to care, and the joy on her face could not be feigned.
His mind flickered back to an article in a magazine he’d seen while she still modeled.
It was from a story about poverty in a third-world country, and how some stars were helping raise awareness and money. Holly had been in several photos, playing with the children or holding a baby. At the time he’d assumed it was simply publicity shots her manager had encouraged.
Now, he very much doubted it was anything but her genuine interest in being involved. It was all too easy to imagine Holly with her own children. Holding a baby to her breast.
His heart squeezed at the image.
“I wanted to teach special-needs children.” Her tone turned wistful. “It was what I was going t
o college for, before the money…” She shook her head and shrugged. “Who knows, perhaps I’ll go back to school when I return to the States.”
Her words jolted him. Rafiq’s chest tightened and he struggled to breathe evenly. Of course she would be thinking about her return to the States and how she would leave him someday. That was, and always had been, the agreement.
And yet back in Monaco, for a moment, hadn’t he worried about Holly growing more attached to him? Perhaps she’d simply been caught up in the moment.
The idea of Holly leaving reminded him of another uneasy thought. “We did not use protection.”
She tensed and turned to look at him once more. Some of the color leeched from her face. “No. We didn’t.”
“It seems unlikely anything should come of it, but you will, of course, let me know.”
“Of course.” She looked away quickly, but not before he’d seen the flicker of distress in her eyes.
It seemed a pregnancy was not an exciting prospect for Holly, at least not now when she was so young and eager to return to school. Perhaps when she was older and settled with some robust, overprotective American husband.
The image, just as the one of her leaving, ate bitterly at his gut, and Rafiq’s fingers closed into a fist.
But what if there was a child? What then? No matter how much he might fear it, everything would have to change.
Rafiq had Holly and her things moved into his room immediately when they returned. Since they’d officially become lovers, there really was no reason for the separate rooms. Plus it would keep his staff from gossiping.
Not that they’d ever do so. Though they might be quietly curious about Holly in the palace, they were loyal to the bone.
Most days he would leave to go into the city, working tirelessly to set the logistics for a second casino in Raljahar to be built. His country was small, but already in the past two years the luxury mall had expanded three blocks, renting retail space to the top designer names.
Though business was going well during the day, Rafiq could not wait for the evening when his limo would return him to the palace and to Holly. In the two weeks since they’d returned, he looked forward to walking through his doors to find Holly somewhere inside, always a happy smile on her face.
Beauty and the Sheikh Page 13
