The outer shell he wore—roguish and suave—had holes enough to glimpse into the veiled worlds beneath. And in those worlds were shadows holding such pain.
He thought he kept it hidden as he studied schematics and blueprints with His Highness, but I saw how he never took his eyes off the way Dina cuddled close to her husband or how the two children leaned together in sibling-bond.
He ached.
It was a physical thing.
He craved.
It was a visible thing.
I saw so much while enjoying the luxury of sitting quiet and undisturbed.
But why did he covet a family when he was a bachelor of his own devices—surrounding himself in water and horizons? Why did he look at children, not as a man who was desperate for his own, but with nostalgia—heralding the ghosts of perhaps a brother or sister he missed.
Despite myself, I thawed toward him.
But I didn’t fully let go of my dislike until the second course of our luncheon. The switch inside me happened when Elder sketched a third amendment to the drawings and laughed real and carefree when the little girl swatted her brother for snapping a crayon and gave her his expensive biro to replace it.
The moment stretched a tad too long; he’d frozen, remembering a different time. He didn’t shutter his eyes enough to hide the agony resounding inside.
He was no longer just Elder. My saviour and captor.
He was so, so much more.
And it hurt because I wanted to know how deep that more went.
It seemed I wasn’t the only one.
Whatever conversation occurred while Dina and I were in the bathroom had stripped Elder down to his bare defences. He no longer had a swagger or solid footing in whatever persona he’d created. He’d suffered a trip down memory lane and somehow left pieces of himself behind when he returned to the present.
I wished I’d been there to listen—a spider in its web, catching the puzzle pieces like fat juicy flies. However, I wouldn’t trade my own bathroom conversation because Dina had done for me what Simo had done for Elder.
She’d woken me up.
Giving into the lull of walking in hot sunshine and enjoying the dusty grit on my feet after too long of being pristine and undirty, I recalled the first chat with a woman in two years.
“How are you enjoying our country, Pim?” Dina escorted me into the bathroom, her eyes warm and kind. The moment the door shut, blocking us from Selix standing guard, I tensed for those eyes to leave mine and lock onto my bruises.
Self-consciousness brought my arms up, wrapping tight around my waist. Did she know what I was? Did she come to the washroom to interrogate me and somehow get Elder into trouble?
For a brief second, I wondered if she might’ve started as a slave to His Royal Highness, but the idea was hilarious as well as preposterous. Anyone could see the love they shared. I certainly could, and Elder definitely could.
He hadn’t taken his gaze off them even when it looked as if he was sketching a quick design.
Being with a man joined only in the worst circumstances of captivity and death, it prickled my skin to be surrounded by a family who cherished each other. They were by far the richest people I’d ever met and not because they were a prince and princess (I think that’s their title being cousins to the crown) but because of what they shared.
No one cherished me.
Or at least…not for the right reasons.
“I must admit, it’s weird to ask questions and not earn a response.” Dina placed her purse on the terracotta-coloured vanity. “Excuse me if I prattle on.”
I smiled and broke yet another of my rules. I shrugged, shaking my head to put her at ease.
I hated how easy such a response was, how freeing communicating could be if I just stopped doubting everyone and began to trust again.
“I’ll be right back.” Dina opened a stall and disappeared.
I followed suit, and after we’d done our business, we smiled at each other in the mirror as we washed our hands in the double sink. The tepid water wasn’t refreshing in such stagnant heat, but at least we were clean.
Fantasies of jumping in the ocean with Elder tonight made the bathroom splutter as if I could step through a veil of time and return to moonlight and salt rather than stay in a bathroom in the middle of the day.
“How long has it been?” Dina flicked remaining droplets off her fingers and reached for a towelette. “Since you’ve talked, I mean?”
I tensed.
I could lift up two fingers and give her an answer. But I wasn’t ready. I shrugged again. I’d already broken that barrier. It was easy to repeat.
“Do you miss it? Being able to converse and demand answers to whatever you’re thinking?”
Turning off the tap, I swallowed and moved my tongue, testing how easy or how hard it would be to give this woman my voice and just get it over with. I’d forgotten what I sounded like, and how it felt to have sound resonate through my throat.
And if I did break my cardinal rule, what would I say to her? Would I tell her about Alrik? Would I ask her to help me? Would she laugh when I said Elder had saved me but at the same time prevented me from going home? Would she take me away from Elder and if she did…how would I feel about that?
After watching him today, I was hesitant to speak badly of him.
“What am I saying!” She held up her hands. “I’m so sorry for being nosy. I don’t even know if you could ever talk. I never thought it might be a thing you’ve dealt with since birth. Forgive my ignorance.” Opening her purse, she pulled out dusky pink lipstick.
Painting her lips, she put the lid back on. “Changing the subject, let’s talk about that man out there.”
I froze.
What about him?
She smiled softly. “You do know he cares about you.”
Frost worked on my freeze, turning me rigid.
He does?
No, you’re mistaken.
He tolerates me, that’s all.
She couldn’t mean Elder. But there was no other man—apart from her husband. And technically, he did care. He’d saved me, killed for me, set me up with everything my body needed to heal.
She patted my hand, still locked on the tap. “You’re new to one another, aren’t you?”
I blinked.
“I remember those first days with Simo. It’s terrifying but thrilling, don’t you find?”
Terrifying, yes.
Thrilling…I hadn’t thought about it.
Elder did thrill me, but it wasn’t a happy thrill from passing a feared exam or surviving a crazy rollercoaster. This thrill was entirely different. I just didn’t know if it was from adrenaline of wanting to run away or needing to run closer so I could understand.
“Treat that man right, and he’ll do the same in return.” Dina removed a comb from the side of her head and repositioned it to scoop a cascade of black hair from her face. “That’s what today’s society has forgotten.”
Seeing her beautify an already beautiful face prompted me to stare hard at myself in the mirror. The shadows under my eyes were more grey than black, thanks to regular meals. My hair held a tentative shine as if wanting to return to glossiness but still afraid. And my collarbones still stuck out, but at least my arms weren’t as gaunt.
Was I pretty?
No, not really.
But I was a survivor, and I wholeheartedly accepted the girl before me because she was the first stepping-stone back to health.
Copying Dina, I combed my fingers through my hair and rubbed my skin to rid the heat shine on my forehead and chin.
Closing her purse, Dina said, “From a fifteen-year married woman to a girl in a new relationship, let me give you one word of advice.”
I sucked in a breath, my hands twisting my hair and draping the coiled mess over my shoulder.
“Treat him right because men respond to praise. If they know they’ve done well, they want to try harder. If they see how happy they make you, they’ll do more to keep you
that way. Don’t belittle them and never, ever blame them for things that aren’t their fault. Even the things that are their fault, give them some slack.”
You make them sound like a dog.
She turned, giggling. “I didn’t exactly make that point eloquently—they aren’t an animal. Well, sometimes, they can be.” Her eyes twinkled. “Simo is the public speaker, not me. All I mean is I see the way he looks at you and the way you look at him. There is suspicion there but interest too.”
She headed toward the door. “No matter what happens, never hold grudges. Grudges are the worst things in life. No matter if that grudge is justified, it’s the poison that kills entire cities.”
Even if I could talk, I wouldn’t have known what to say to that.
Instead, I trailed behind her and returned to the man she said cared for me.
“Are you okay?”
Elder’s voice interrupted my daydreaming, wafting away Dina as if she were a whiff of incense. His exotic aftershave tantalized my nose, buying into the analogy.
I squinted at his height, vaguely making out the dragon tattoo on his chest beneath the white cotton wrapped around his torso.
He narrowed his eyes as if wondering where my mind had gone and dying to ask. But he wouldn’t. He knew by now he wouldn’t get an answer.
Pointing at my legs, he grumbled, “Are you tired? Do you hurt? Should I call for the car?”
I hadn’t even noticed the slight ache in my hips from walking after so long of being huddled in a ball. I didn’t feel the burn of a freshly formed blister from the slightly too big gold sandals—even the throb in my knees and tongue couldn’t steal what this day meant to me.
The only thing I did notice was how bright the sun was and how I’d stupidly left the hat I’d commandeered this morning in the restaurant.
Whoops.
Would he punish me for that? Would he even notice?
Today had started off terrifying with Elder stripping me in the lift. But it had ended in female company and sunshine, and he could never take that away from me. Whatever minor discomforts I suffered was nothing compared to the pricelessness of such an adventure.
However, the longer we were in public, the stronger Alrik hovered in my mind—his ghost doing its best to scare me by making me suspect the men walking close by. I jolted from raised voices and winced when shopkeepers raised their arm to tote their wares.
All mundane things but in them I saw a torturer, a scream, and abuse.
I was happy.
I was nervous.
It was a constant battle to stay in the moment.
But for the first time, I actually wanted to be present. Not in the future where I was safe with my mother and friends. Not in a police building about to inform the world of the QMB and begin the tirade on saving the women I’d been sold with.
I wanted to be here.
With Elder.
He huffed when I didn’t respond, growling with impatience. “Michaels gave me a report on your healing last night.” He glanced away, his attention landing on a young boy running across the street with a scruffy dog on a piece of string. “He said the stitches will begin to dissolve soon. That your tongue is well on its way to normalcy.”
I kept pace beside him, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. He was right, though. The swelling receded every day, and the sharpness from the stitches was already beginning to soften. Although eating couscous at lunch today had been tricky. The tiny granules had escaped into my cheeks, and I didn’t have the dexterity to find them.
His voice darkened. “Once I know you’re healed, there won’t be any more excuses, Pim.”
I know.
“I want what I deserve. I need things from you.”
I know that, too.
“I’ve been more than fair—”
I skidded on a loose piece of gravel.
My arms flew out to catch my balance. My bruised bones bellowed against upcoming impact.
But I never fell.
One second, I was falling; the next, I was not.
As if we’d danced this dance before, Elder’s hands gripped my waist, his fingers digging protectively into me, keeping me upright.
The electricity when we’d first met licked like wildfire from him to me, crackling and spitting. Everything that’d happened on his yacht up until now was deleted. We were back to square one when he’d walked into the white mansion in his stain of black and demanded one night with me.
The penny he tried to give me for my thoughts.
The way his pinkie grazed mine.
The way his lips descended and his tongue captured and that damn kiss that ruined everything. All of it drugged us until we were lost.
I shivered as things inside me sprang awake. Things that weren’t just dormant but had never had the chance to bloom. Things a woman felt, not just a girl. Desire I’d only just sampled but now ricocheted through me like a rocket.
He sucked in a breath, his fingers pressing harder. Too hard. Not hard enough. Bruises tried to enlist a panic attack. Instinct tried to make me flee. But Elder…he was the anchor keeping me steady. I didn’t tremble from fear but interest. I didn’t gasp from terror but attraction.
In the Moroccan sunshine, his skin turned a molten honey while his hair carried nightmares itself. His eyes, with its secrets and hidden windows, were wide and full of dazzling heat.
His head bowed as his hands dragged me forward. Without thinking, my body turned supple, bending into him as my chin tipped up.
Whatever this was, we didn’t choreograph it. Something else did. Something neither of us could ignore.
His hands slipped around my back, bracing me against his body. My belly hit his waistband and my spine arched as he pressed his hardening erection into me.
I didn’t think about where we were or who was watching. Nothing else existed but him and me and whatever this searing connection was.
“Fuck…” His eyes dropped to my lips.
I licked them, not in invitation but because my mouth watered for a kiss. His kiss. The kiss I wanted because his hands were on me in protection, not damnation. The kiss I wanted to build on the one he’d given back when my existence had been ripped apart.
One hand gripped my lower spine while the other crept up my back. He wasn’t gentle; he didn’t apologise for pressing bruises or gathering me so tight I couldn’t breathe.
I didn’t care.
For some reason, his violence was acceptable, not just accepted…wanted. Desperately wanted.
My fingers came up, clutching his biceps as he bent me deeper into him. His every muscle, his every breath and heat, fed into my body, making me wet for the first time since I could remember.
I didn’t know how to describe it as my body shed its hardened exterior and swelled and liquefied. It took back what had been stolen and lusted. Lusted after being taught lust was so awfully wrong.
His breath scattered over my lips as he dragged me the final distance.
My eyes fluttered to half mast, entirely drunk and willing and wanting and waiting and—
“Shit.” Elder stumbled, pushing me away so I wouldn’t trip with him. His face etched in feral need, waging with anger at the interruption.
His head whipped to the side just in time to see the dog on the piece of string barrel down the road with the kid in tow. He must’ve run into us, locked unmovable in the street.
As suddenly as the moment had happened, it ended.
Elder wrenched his hands from me.
I sucked in a ragged breath, unable to control the leaping lemmings that’d replaced my blood.
What the hell was that?
And what would’ve happened if the dog hadn’t run into us? Would we have kissed? Would we have lost ourselves in the middle of a congested country where public displays of affection were a criminal offence?
Spinning on his heel, Elder clamped both hands on his head, staring at the sun. With his back to me, I didn’t catch what he said, but his curse curdled the
perfumed air with untold frustration.
While away from the intensity of his stare, I wiped my lips, flinching at how sensitive they were. Dropping my hands down my front—trying to get myself under control—I shivered as my nipples tingled against the dress.
The foreign wetness remained slick on my inner thigh. Not wearing underwear made what’d happened unmistakable. A rainbow of pride filled me that even after two years of abuse, after promising I would never tolerate sex or lust, my body had found a way to heal just enough to accept a kiss.
From Elder at least.
I picked at the scabs in my mind from everything Alrik had done, hoping to see if perhaps, one day, I could tolerate more than just a kiss from a man who hopefully might earn my trust. But the minute I thought of naked bodies and entwined thrusting, a cold sweat drenched me; a panic attack snaked through my desire, turning it into rancid sickness.
I gulped at the suddenness of how something so desirable could turn into something horrific.
Elder spun around, dropping his hands. “I didn’t mean—” His arm came up.
All I saw was pain. I cringed, taking a step back.
He stiffened, looking from his me to his arm. Accusation and disappointment replaced whatever attraction remained in his eyes. “I wasn’t going to hit you.” His nostrils flared. “Fuck, what the hell happened between us? You fell, I caught you.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I told you I was doing my best around you, Pim, but Christ you felt good in my arms.”
A swarm of locals cascaded around us like a swiftly flowing river around a boulder in its path.
Elder didn’t notice. “You didn’t fight me.” His voice lowered. “You responded. You wanted me to kiss you. Are you going to stand there and fucking deny it?”
I looked down, rubbing my arm as prickles raced over my skin.
“You wanted me, yet now you look as if I was about to bloody rape you. You’re still afraid I’ll hurt you, even now?”
I couldn’t fill my lungs. My heart tightened itself in a rusty metal thumbscrew, making me hiss in pain.
I’m afraid of myself.
Of what irreparable damage that bastard did to my body.
His head lowered, blocking the sun and casting heavy shade over me. The symbolism of standing in the shadows wasn’t lost on me. I’d been in the shadows for years. How the hell did I think I could live in the sunshine without getting burned?
Dollars (Dollar #2) Page 16
