by Sophia Lynn
She was unsurprised when Majid, one of Dario’s riders, approached her.
“Miss Tyler, you are to come with me,” he said, his voice careful and formal.
“Of course,” she said. She knew that it was not his fault that he had to carry out his sheikh’s orders, but a part of her couldn’t help but be a little resentful.
To her relief, they got into a jeep, rather than heading to the horse corral. It had sounded as if Dario was planning to strand her in the back of beyond.
To her surprise, Majid followed the convoy to Jabal. She watched in shock as the tall skyscrapers of Jabal appeared hazily in the distance and then grew sharp and solid.
“Excuse me, but aren’t you meant to be taking me to an inn or something?”
Majid shrugged.
“I go where Sheikh Nejem tells me to go,” he said gruffly.
“But where is that?”
“Rising Star.”
“What’s that?”
Majid glanced over, shooting her an amused grin. It occurred to her that he must have been at least twenty years her senior, easily old enough to be her father. She must have looked like an impatient teenager to him.
“You will see.”
There was something so gentle about his words, so assured, that she realized something in that moment.
“You… you know about us, don’t you?” she asked softly.
For a moment, she thought he wasn’t going to answer her at all. Then, with a soft sigh, he nodded.
“It is not as bad as you fear,” he said. “It is very hard to hide things from the riders. We go everywhere, and generally, we are not seen unless we want to be. The sheikh is a subtle man, but we take our responsibility to him very seriously.”
For a moment, Bailey was shocked to think that people had known about their trysts, but then she found she was oddly comforted to know that there were men looking after him.
“I am glad you are so careful with him,” she said, leaning back in her seat. “I imagine that he is not an easy man to keep track of.”
Majid chuckled with surprise. When he looked at her again, there was a gleam of respect there that she wasn’t sure she had seen before.
“That is a true thing. Do you know much about the sheikh and his time among the riders?”
Wide-eyed, Bailey shook her head. Somehow, it felt as if she was being offered a rare and generous piece of knowledge, and she knew that she couldn’t let it go by.
“He told me he was put on a horse when he was five years old,” she said, “but beyond that, there was nothing.”
Majid nodded.
“Throughout its long history, Jabal has always been a country that was more warlike than its neighbors. More than Dubai, more than Ziar and the others, it has always been a place where men were meant to take their first steps toward their horses and their swords. Centuries ago, we were expected to die in the saddle.”
He offered her a wry smile.
“Of course, I greatly prefer the peacetime, as does any sensible man, but it cannot be denied that our heritage is a martial one. In all things, the sheikh is meant to lead his men, and so Sheikh Nejem was raised among the horsemen.”
“Was he very brave?” she asked.
Majid laughed.
“Reckless enough to make even his father worried! He was raised on stories of the daring of Jabal sheikhs in war and at play. He has always wanted to be the best, and when it was pointed out that that came with certain risks, he shrugged them off.”
Bailey could imagine Dario as a stubborn boy, proud of his horse, proud of his skills, and reckless enough to make his parents weep tears of worry.
“In peacetime, the riders work mostly with rescue operations and peacekeeping on the borders, as you have seen. One of the first missions that the sheikh ran with us was to find a couple of campers who had gotten lost in the Sinn mountains.”
Bailey shivered. She knew how treacherous they could be, how a trick of the light could make a sudden steep drop look like a gentle slope.
“A woman had fallen to the bottom of a ravine, breaking her leg. We were still discussing the best way to get her out when the sheikh simply anchored a rope on the rock face and rappeled down to her location.”
Bailey laughed because she could imagine Dario doing just that.
“Did he save the day?”
“As a matter of fact, he did. He was able to secure her to a stretcher that we could then use to pull her up, which took far less time than the other solutions. That has set the tone for the rest of his life.”
“He wants to protect others,” she said softly, and Majid nodded.
“He wants to protect his people, and he wants to make Jabal great. It is a very fine thing to be alive for the reign of a sheikh like him.”
She could see it now, the thread of protectiveness that ran through his order. Before, she could only see the high-handedness of it, the way he ordered instead of asked. After talking to Majid, she could see more of the man behind the command.
Majid did not drive into Jabal proper. Instead, as the rest of the convoy continued on to the city, he took several back roads through the desert. Bailey was getting up her courage to ask if they were lost when he finally came around a rocky outcropping to a place that was shockingly lush and green.
“What is this place?” she asked, peering through the windows.
“They call it Rising Star,” he said. “It is best to let the sheikh explain.”
The jeep pulled up to the doorstep of a beautiful white house in the middle of the greenery. Graceful pillars framed the doorway, and the open windows were draped with light white linen curtains, blowing gently in the breeze.
When Majid pulled away, she was left to enter the house almost timidly, feeling more like a poor college girl than she had in years. With her grubby bag in her hand, she was almost afraid to touch the place. It reminded her of a palace, all marble and gold fixtures.
There was a crisp piece of fine folded paper on the marble counter, and with slightly bated breath, she opened it.
Little Gem:
I spent hours angry at you, and then I when I actually considered it, I could not be angry anymore. I wanted to hide you away from the world, and that is not something that is right or fair. However, I do believe that some discretion is necessary, and that is why I have had you brought to Rising Star.
This home has been my family’s retreat for more than two hundred years. It has always been a place of peace and sanctuary. I want to show it to you.
I regret deeply that I cannot be here to meet you, but please, explore it, learn about it, and perhaps you will find the same kind of joy that it has always given me.
I will join you by tonight, as there are things in Jabal that need my attention.
Be well. Be joyous always.
-Dario
She put the letter down, her heart churning with mixed feelings. She knew that he wasn’t lying to her. There was a sense of deep joy at Rising Star, of people who had loved and lost and came to cherish what they had. She was thrilled to share this place with him, deeply touched that he cared enough to share it with her.
Still, the words of the other women rang in her ears. The world seemed to think that he was a man who kept his mistresses very well and very discreetly, and when she thought about it, there was no better lovers’ nest than Rising Star. It was perfect luxury in perfect isolation.
She shook the thought away, because it was unworthy. There was something here that felt real to her, the quality that the cave had. It was a place where Dario was truly himself, and just for that alone, she would have loved it.
“All right,” she said out loud. “The sheikh told me to explore, and so I will.”
She found to her delight that the refrigerator was well stocked with food, and she made herself a sandwich to eat as she wandered through the rooms. They were all elegantly appointed, light and airy as if their only purpose was t
o hold the bright light that came in through the windows and the skylights. On the walls were family pictures, and these Bailey examined carefully. She was thrilled to recognize Dario as a little boy, impressed by the stern-looking man that she realized was his father. A beautiful woman held Dario as a baby, held his hand when he was a little boy, but afterward, disappeared entirely.
Biting her lip, Bailey hesitated for a moment before she turned to her tablet, looking up information on the Nejem family. Her heart squeezed painfully when she saw that Dario’s mother had died when he was only eight. She had died in a car accident, and before she could register what she was looking at, Bailey found a picture of Dario himself, small and somber in traditional robes, at his mother’s funeral.
Bailey turned off her tablet, feeling as if she had stumbled on something that she was not meant to find. His family might have been a matter of public record, but there was something too personal about looking at those pictures.
Bailey realized that to her, Dario wasn’t a public figure. She knew that he was the sheikh; she knew that he had responsibilities to an entire country that looked to him. However, she knew him as her lover, a man who appeared in the darkness to give her a kind of pleasure she never knew existed.
It felt too invasive to learn about him in this way, so she set the computer aside and continued her exploration.
Rising Star was built on the shore of an oasis, a startling flash of green and blue in the middle of the desert. The rear of the house opened straight out onto the beach, and after a moment of hesitation, Bailey walked down to the water. Despite the heat of the desert air, the water of the oasis was cool, coming from the earth beneath. For a time, she amused herself by wading in the water, wondering how Dario and his family would have played there before his mother died.
She took a shower in the oversized tub, and found a soft silk robe hanging on the door as if it had been waiting for her.
It was a beautiful place, she decided, if a lonely one.
She ended up on the luxurious leather couch, curled up one end with some soft music playing on her tablet. Though she had intended to wait for Dario to appear, she couldn’t seem to keep her eyes open.
She wasn’t quite aware that she had fallen asleep. In her dream, she wore long embroidered robes and waited in an enormous tent made of sumptuous brocades and woven fabrics. The tent was large enough that it could be divided up into large rooms with walls of fabric, and all around her, she could hear people moving, talking, and laughing.
Soon, though, she knew it would grow quiet. The servants would leave, and then she and Dario would be alone. So she waited.
Slowly, the noise died off to be replaced with the sounds of the desert night. She could hear the buzz of the insects that came out of the sand only when the sun set. She could hear the scream of some lonely desert cat. Closer, there was the sound of cracking wood in her brazier, the only source of light and heat.
She waited, and he came.
The dark desert lord pushed aside the fabric that hung around her space, and when he smiled at her, she knew that this was a man worth waiting for, even if she had to wait a hundred years, even if she had to wait a thousand.
“You stayed,” he said, as if surprised, and the smile that lit his face was like the sunrise.
“I always will, for you,” she said, turning her face to his. “I love you.”
The simplicity of those words tore through her. Even in her dream, she recognized the truth of it, and it tore her away from the sense of safety she had found.
Gasping, she sat bolt upright, shedding bits of the dream away from her like water. Was she an art history graduate, or was she a woman living four hundred years ago, her life bound by the confines of luxurious woven walls? Who was she truly?
Though it all, the only real thing was her love for the man she waited for.
Almost as if he had stepped from her dream, Dario was there, his arms wrapping around her, his lips pressed comfortingly against her forehead.
“Don’t be afraid, darling, don’t be afraid. I’m here, it’s fine…”
It took her a few moments to calm down from her panic. She remembered who she was, and she remembered who this man was. It should have terrified her to realize that she loved a man who could only give her a part of his life. It should have sent her running in the other direction.
Instead, all she could do was sink into his embrace, clinging to him as she slowly stopped shaking. He stroked her back, murmuring soothing things, and then when she was calm again, he pulled back to look at her.
“Are you all right?” he asked, and she nodded.
“It was only a dream,” she said, though she sounded less certain than she should have. “I didn’t even know that I was asleep. I meant to stay up to wait for you. When did you get here?”
“Just a few hours ago, but I didn’t want to wake you. You looked so peaceful sleeping, until you didn’t. That must have been some nightmare.”
She shook the dream away. It was strangely beautiful, but true in a way that was beginning to frighten her. She didn’t want to think about it. Instead, she cuddled closer to him, relishing the reality of him: his smell, his muscular frame, the gentle rise and fall of his breathing.
“It was… strange, I’ll say that. But I’m glad you’re here. This place is beautiful, but if I had still been alone when it got dark, I don’t think I would like it so much.”
Dario chuckled.
“I’m never here alone,” he commented. “In fact, I’ve not been here in years. This was always a place for my family, whether it was just my father and mother and I, or a place for me to hang out with my cousins over a week break from school. I’m not sure that I would like being alone here either.”
“And you brought me here?” She intended her tone to be teasing, but there was something soft and sweet there.
He smiled at her, an apology for the fight they had had before they left the excavation site.
“I did. You are very special to me. I know that sometimes it can be hard to believe or even to remember, but the truth is that I want you to have the real parts of me. This is one of them.”
She leaned up to kiss him gently. There was passion in the kiss, but there was also kindness, something slow and sweet and just for them.
For a moment, he kissed her in return, but then he stood up, making her blink in confusion.
“Before we get carried away, I wanted to say that I have two surprises for you. Come here to the table.”
Curious, she allowed him to sit her down at the lovely driftwood table as he busied himself with some white bags on the kitchen counter.
“Are you really meant to be doing that?” she teased. “It seems somehow beneath a sheikh to be preparing dinner.”
“I’ll have you know that the men of my family are famed for their ability to order takeout from the finest places in Jabal,” he said with dignity.
Dinner turned out to be a traditional meal he had ordered from a famous restaurant in Jabal. It was still warm when he dished out the small pots of lamb and chicken and placed them on the table. The various dishes were eaten with a fragrant flatbread and a cool and surprisingly spicy yogurt sauce.
Dario showed her how to eat the delicious food, scooping the stews onto torn pieces of the bread. Once or twice, she turned around and was surprised to have a bite of food pressed between her lips, a tradition, Dario told her, for lovers.
After dinner, he took her out to the oasis, where full night had fallen. At the press of a button on his phone, the lights of the house turned off and they were surrounded by the darkness of the desert night. The stars above them glowed, and when the full moon came out, it cast a silvery glow over the waters of the oasis.
“This is what my ancestors saw their first night at the oasis,” Dario said softly. “They saw those stars and this water, and they realized that more than simply being safe, they were home.”
“Home…” Bailey e
choed. “Is this your home here?”
“My home is Jabal,” he said. “Even if things changed and I was driven away, even if I was living in Hong Kong or New York or Amsterdam, Jabal is always my home. It is always where I live and where I belong.”
She wondered what it was like to be so certain of something like that. When she leaned up to kiss him, she thought she could feel some of it. Throughout her own life, she had often felt like a little piece of dandelion fluff. She was to be blown wherever the wind would take her, and hopefully where it brought her to would be a fertile land. Dario knew where his land was, and his roots stretched deep into it, giving him power and strength.
After a few moments of kissing, Dario pulled away.
“Come inside. It is time for your second surprise,” he said.
When he led her up to the master bedroom, her heart was already beating a little faster. She was puzzled when she saw the steel briefcase on the bed, one with a lock that looked enormous even to her untrained eye.
“Should I be worried?” she asked, eying the briefcase warily.
Dario laughed. “Not at all, but come see.”
He unlocked the briefcase, throwing it open to reveal a bright dazzle of jewelry. Bailey gasped as she saw the wealth in front of her. It was a riot of gems, of rubies, sapphires, diamonds, turquoise, and pearls. In the light of the bedroom, they gleamed, gorgeous on the velvet bed of the briefcase’s interior.
“Oh, Dario, what are these?”
“I wanted to show these to you,” he said softly, coming up behind her. “When I saw the diadem that we found at the dig, it made me think of this collection. Some of these pieces have been in my family for generations. They are the wealth that my ancestors brought back from wars in foreign lands for their brides, like that diadem must have been.”
“They’re so beautiful. But surely it’s not safe to bring them out?”
He shrugged.
