by Cara Albany
"He wants you to come home," Qazim said bluntly.
"What!" Zaheer sighed. "When ?"
"Tomorrow. As soon as you can," Qazim replied.
Zaheer slid off the corner of the table and stood, running a hand through his hair. He couldn't believe this! Just when it looked as if he would be able to win Becca over to becoming his bride, just when he was so close to claiming her once and for all, everything would have to be put on hold.
At least until he found out what was going on back home.
"That's what he said to you?" Zaheer checked one last time. He knew if his father wanted something, it was Zaheer's responsibility to act.
"Yes," Qazim answered. "Can I tell him you're coming home?"
Zaheer thought for a moment. He wasn't going to drag Becca out of bed in the middle of the night. It was already late, anyway. It would be daylight in a couple of hours.
"I'll leave early in the morning," he told Qazim. "I should be at the palace by before midday."
"Okay. I'll tell him that," Qazim replied. There was a long pause and Zaheer could sense that his brother wanted to say something else.
"What is it, Qazim?" Zaheer asked.
Qazim cleared his throat. "Will you be coming alone?"
Zaheer felt a flash of irritation. "No," he snapped, immediately regretting his abruptness.
There was a long pause and then Zaheer continued: "I'll be bringing someone you might remember."
"Who?"
"Becca," Zaheer said evenly, feeling a rush of pleasure as he said those words.
"Becca? But I thought..." Qazim started to say.
"You thought wrong," Zaheer interrupted his brother.
"You and Becca haven't been together for years," Qazim said.
"Three to be exact," Zaheer added.
Zaheer heard Qazim gasp in astonishment. "How did this happen?" he asked eventually.
"I'll tell you about it when I see you tomorrow," Zaheer replied.
"Okay. I'll look forward to that," Qazim said slowly. Zaheer could hear anticipation in Qazim's voice. Zaheer wondered how he was going to explain Becca's presence to the other members of his family.
There would be enough time to worry about that later, he told himself.
Zaheer said goodbye to Qazim and hung up the phone. He paused by the side of the table and thought about Becca. How would she react to the news that she was about to meet Zaheer's family at last? A tight knot of concern settled in his belly. He drew in a deep breath.
It didn't matter anymore. Not after what had happened a few hours earlier. He'd make it work, whatever that took.
He wasn't going to lose her again.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
"We're going to meet your family!" Becca exclaimed over breakfast a few hours later.
Zaheer had been preparing himself for the breaking of the news, but he could see that nothing could have prepared him for the strength of Becca's initial reaction.
They were seated at the breakfast table on the terrace. The early morning sun shone low in the sky and the gusts of fresh air coming from the direction of the sea far below them were tinged with the scent of the ocean.
Becca sat across from Zaheer, her fork hovering over her plate. She gazed across at him, her blue eyes shimmering slightly with emotion. Loose locks of her blonde hair shifted in the breeze.
When she'd come down to meet him for breakfast, Zaheer thought he'd never seen anyone look more beautiful, more perfect. His heart ached as he'd watched her smile at him, saying good morning.
Now, though, she looked entirely different. Her features were creased with worry at the news he'd just given her. In contrast to her smiling eyes minutes before, her gaze from across the table was dark. The last time he'd seen that look in her eyes had been in New York.
"When are we going?" she asked sharply.
Zaheer lifted his cup of coffee to his lips and spoke before taking a reassuring sip. "This morning," he replied gazing at her across the lip of the cup.
Becca's mouth dropped open, and her eyes widened. "What!" she exclaimed. "But, I thought we'd be here for at least a couple of days."
"Something came up," Zaheer said. He didn't want to tell her right away that he'd been called back urgently by his father, that there might be some kind of problem brewing that needed Zaheer's presence. He'd explain that later, he told himself.
"Something more important than this?" Becca snapped gazing around at the palace and the sea. Her eyes narrowed and softened imploringly. "Than us?" she added.
His shoulders sagged and he felt that hard, sickening knot twist in his gut. He hated doing this. He wished he could have found a way out of this. But he knew from past experience that when his father called like this, there was nothing he could do.
Zaheer reached across the table, but she pulled her hand away, laying it down on her lap.
"I'm sorry," he said. "But there's nothing I can do." He hesitated, trying to find words that would soften the blow, ease Becca's disappointment.
He could tell that last night had affected her as much as it had impacted him. The hurt in her eyes, every soft glance in his direction made him feel a surge of pain. He'd seen her disappointment before. When he'd betrayed her three years ago. He'd never wanted to see that expression on her face again. But there it was, across the table from him.
"Isn't there some way we can stay a little longer?" she asked.
Zaheer shook his head. "I can't put it off."
"Didn't you have any idea something like this would happen" she asked.
For a brief, confusing moment, Zaheer wondered if she was referring to their love-making or to their impending sudden departure. Of course she wasn't talking about being here on this island with him, he thought to himself. His mind was still filled with memories and sensations from last night.
Zaheer shook his head. "It must be important," he said. "Some kind of family matter."
That statement seemed to make her reconsider. Her eyes narrowed. "You're not telling me someone in your family is sick or something," she stated.
Zaheer shook his head. "I don't think so." He hesitated and he saw her gaze become firmer, as if she was trying to gauge whether he was holding something back from her.
"What aren't you telling me?" she asked.
Zaheer leaned back. "Nothing," he replied curtly.
"I don't believe you," she said sharply.
The sound of the crashing waves sounded suddenly harsh and intrusive as Zaheer tightened his lips and gazed back across at Becca.
"What are you holding from me, Zaheer? Is it bad news?"
Zaheer glanced away from Becca. When he looked back at her, he saw that she was leaning on the table and peering at him. "I thought we made a deal," she said.
Zaheer squinted at her, but he knew just what she meant.
"I thought we agreed there would be no more dishonesty," she continued. "No more holding back. That we'd be open with each other."
Zaheer heard the emotion cracking her voice. Of course, she was right, he told himself. She was so much clearer than him about the barrier that still stood between them. She knew just how much had to be done before they could regain the trust, rediscover the faith they'd once had in each other.
Zaheer leaned his elbows on the table and peered at Becca. "It's my father," he said evenly.
Becca's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing.
He continued: "My father has demanded that I come home."
Her brows furrowed. "Demanded?"
Zaheer nodded. "There's nothing I can do to refuse."
"Your father still commands that kind of loyalty from his children?" she asked. She sounded as if she couldn't quite believe what he'd said.
Zaheer sighed. "Not all of them have to obey him like I do," he explained. "My two younger brothers aren't expected to be so obedient."
"Obedient?" Becca snapped. She shook her head and frowned, apparently trying to understand. "That sounds so archaic. So old-fashioned," she said
eventually.
Zaheer shook his head. "It's tradition. Family honor is everything to my father." He paused, examining Becca's features. "And to me," he added. "But you knew that already, didn't you?"
Becca frowned and leaned back on the chair. "Your father only has to snap his fingers and you jump. Is that it? Nothing else matters?"
"You make it sound like obeying my father is more important than being with you," he accused.
Becca's glance flickered hesitantly. "Is it?" she asked, obvious hurt in her voice.
Indignation flashed through him. He felt his muscles tighten and he leaned forward. "How can you say that? Especially after last night," he said.
Becca's features darkened. "And what about last night, Zaheer? Was it really so special?"
He was aghast. How could she say such a thing? Had it only taken this to make her doubts return? Hadn't he done enough already to convince her that she was the most important person in his life?
Zaheer focused his attention on Becca, firming his resolve, determined to control the impulse that flared inside him. An impulse that was trying to drive him to snap, to say something he'd regret. His jaw tightened as he fought for control.
After a pause he replied to her shocking statement. "I promise you, everything will be fine once we get to my family's palace. I'll make sure of it," he declared in a voice he struggled to keep even and calm.
"And how exactly will you do that?" she said lifting a brow.
"You'll be welcomed like any honored guest would be," Zaheer said. He knew those hadn't been the wisest choice of words, but he had to make sure she knew just how important would be her presence in his family's palace.
"Guest?" she said quickly. "Is that all I'll be? A guest?" He could hear the hurt in her voice.
Zaheer felt a sinking feeling in his gut. "That's not what I meant," he replied hastily. "You know that you'll be much more than just a guest."
Becca snorted. "Really," she said sarcastically. "How can I be sure?" she scoffed.
Zaheer leaned forward. "Because I give you my word, that's why," he said firmly. He gazed darkly at her. "I don't give my word to just anyone," he growled. "You know that, don't you."
By the look on her face, Zaheer could tell that she'd felt the firmness of his purpose, that she could tell he meant every word he'd just said. And he had.
As far as he was concerned, giving a promise was like putting his life on the line. It was a commitment that he would never go back on. That was why he seldom gave them.
Becca stood suddenly, pushing her chair noisily across the tiled floor. For a moment, Zaheer thought she was about to storm off back into the house. He'd utterly failed to convince her that everything would be alright. That she would be welcomed, that she would feel at home with his family.
Zaheer stood and went around the table. Becca's gaze followed him as he made his way toward her. There was so much doubt in her gaze, so much uncertainty.
He took her shoulders, holding her gently as he gazed into her eyes. "Becca, believe me," he said. "Nothing would give me more pleasure than for you to meet my family. To see you in my family home. Happy. Welcomed. At home."
Her gaze met his, her eyes still searching for certainty.
Becca lowered her gaze and shook her head. "It's all happening too fast, Zaheer," she murmured.
Zaheer drew her closer to him. "I know. And I'm sorry. But there is nothing I can do to delay my return."
Becca looked up at him. "I don't feel ready for this," she said.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"To be introduced to your family. What if they don't like me? What if they don't approve of me?"she asked, her voice cracking with emotion.
"That's impossible," he said, placing his fingers gently beneath her chin and lifting her face to him. Her eyes widened as he gazed down at her. "They're going to adore you. Just like I do," he said pulling her against him.
Desire ignited in him as he gazed into her beautiful eyes. His head dipped and he eased his lips down onto hers. Sensation rippled through him and he heard her gasp slightly. Her body softened against his as he grasped her shoulders with a possessive, strong need.
It felt suddenly good to have her close to him. The anxiety in him softened as he kissed her, tasting her tender lips. He felt her warmth against his chest. He realized he wanted it to be like this every moment of every day.
Her lips tasted sweet, so soft and deliciously moist. Irresistible, he said to himself, as he savored the sensations which swept through him.
She sighed and her hands eased onto his upper arms. He felt her fingers curl against his muscles. How good it felt to be touched by Becca, he told himself. This was how it was going to be forever. If he had his way. And he would, he told himself, savoring the kiss even more.
Then she quickly lifted her head away from him. She looked up into his eyes. "You promise me?" she gasped. There was an urgency in her gaze.
He didn't need to ask her to clarify what she'd asked him for, because he knew what she wanted. She wanted him to protect her, wanted him to be honorable toward her, wanted him to be honest with her. All of that, he was determined to give her. And more. So much more.
Zaheer nodded and smiled at her. "Habibti," he murmured.
The word triggered a reaction in Becca. A brief moment of shock was replaced by a look of delight on her graceful features. She smiled at him, and he couldn't resist the impulse to kiss her once again.
Maybe things were going to work out after all, he told himself as he held her in his arms. He closed his eyes, holding her close to him, savoring the warmth of her body. The rhythmic sound of the crashing waves seemed to match the pounding of both their hearts.
All thoughts of their leaving vanished for the moment.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
His family's palace was huge, Becca told herself, as she gazed out through the window of the limo. The car eased through the open gate and began to move slowly up the tree-lined driveway. Up ahead she could see the massive white palace, glowing in the early afternoon sunshine. The gardens which encircled the palace spread out on either side, green and obviously well tended.
She glanced at Zaheer, sitting right next to her. He smiled back at her. She could tell from his delighted expression that he enjoyed the fact that she'd been taken by surprise by the sheer scale of his family's residence. She hadn't seen this when she'd been here originally. All of her time had been spent at Zaheer's palace.
Up ahead, Becca could see two figures standing on the wide steps which led up to the arched doorway. They must be Zaheer's parents, she told herself. She glanced down at her simple blue dress and low-heeled shoes.
"How do I look?" she asked and then realized she'd asked Zaheer that a dozen times since they'd left the island.
Zaheer's gaze ran down the length of her body. He smiled. "What do you expect me to say?" he joked.
"The truth would be a good place to start," she replied.
Zaheer leaned across and kissed her on the cheek. His lips drifted languidly toward her ear, and she felt a tingle of delight. "You are the most beautiful woman in the world, habibti," he growled.
Becca's throat tightened and she felt her heartbeat race furiously. She looked at him, so close now, she could catch his masculine scent. His gaze was hungry. Was he always this insatiable?
Zaheer kissed her softly on the cheek and then settled back next to her on the limo's wide leather seat.
Becca recalled the trip from the island. Her disappointment at leaving had left her feeling sad as she'd watched through the plane window as the island paradise had disappeared below her.
But Zaheer hadn't allowed her a moment to dwell on that disappointment. He'd fussed over her on the short plane ride. It seemed that he was simply determined to cater to her every need, no matter how trivial, no matter how inconvenient.
Arriving at Qazhar airport had triggered memories of her last time there. But, once again, Zaheer seemed to be able to sense her moods and
had done everything he could to distract her, make her feel that this time just might be different.
Zaheer had been recognized on his arrival at the airport. Of course he would be known to the people there, Becca had told herself. How could he not be instantly recognized? He was a sheikh from one of the leading family's in the kingdom. Virtual royalty, she told herself every time someone in the airport bowed to Zaheer, asking if there was something he needed.
Zaheer had taken all the fuss in his stride, behaving with modesty and humility towards everyone. That had made Becca think for a few moments as Zaheer had led her into the limo.
The old Zaheer, three years before, might have been roguish, even arrogant to some extent. He might even have complained if he hadn't been treated in the manner befitting what he saw as his elevated station in life.
So, all through the short drive from the airport, as she'd gazed out at the amazing desert scenery, Becca had played with the possibility that Zaheer may indeed be a changed person. Just as he had claimed to her so many times since New York.
Becca watched as the limo moved slowly into the wide, circular courtyard. So now she was about to meet his parents. Becca drew in a deep breath. Meeting the parents! She wasn't sure she liked how that sounded.
The limo drew to a halt and the driver got out to come around and open the door. On the steps, the two figures watched patiently.
"They're going to love you," Zaheer murmured.
Becca glanced at him, but found that, momentarily, her mind had gone completely blank. Wasn't this a time for some smart comeback? If it was, then she couldn't find it, she realized as the limo door opened. The heat spilled into the air-conditioned limo.
Zaheer stepped out first and held out a hand for Becca. She stretched a leg out and found her footing on the tiled driveway. She stood, letting Zaheer hold her hand gently. He was smiling at her as she took her place next to him.
Zaheer's parent's walked down the remaining few steps.
Becca peered at Zaheer's mother, whose name she knew was Tahira. She was an incredibly elegant looking woman. She was dressed in a traditional Qazhar white dress that covered her entire figure. She was smiling right at Becca. Her eyes were bright with curiosity and her beautiful, even features were set in a placid, calm expression.
