Imani tossed the papers to the desk and called Wasim. After two rings, he answered his personal phone.
“Hello?” he said, sounding distracted.
She heard voices in the background. “Hello, Wasim. I received the signed agreement a few minutes ago.”
“Good. I’m sure you’re pleased.” He whispered something to someone nearby. He wasn’t even giving her his full attention.
“I am pleased. Ecstatic,” she said in a caustic tone.
Pause.
“Are you?” he asked cautiously.
“Of course. You gave me what I wanted. Finally. Shukraan. When will you be returning from your trip?”
“Day after tomorrow.”
“Okay. Well, maybe I won’t be here when you get back.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said, I might not be here when you get back. I have what I wanted now.”
Wasim didn’t say a word. He didn’t make a sound. She couldn’t even hear him breathe. All she heard were the voices of men speaking in the background.
Finally, he said, in a steely voice, “Hold for one moment, please.”
Seconds later, he covered the mouthpiece and had a muffled conversation.
Imani waited with one arm crossed over her waist and a foot tapping the carpet.
When he returned to the line, there were no more voices in the background. He had clearly gone to a room alone to speak to her.
“Do not threaten me, Imani.”
“Threaten you? I wouldn’t dream of it. You’re the king, after all.”
“That is correct.”
“But as queen, I must have some power. Some free will of my own.” She filled her voice with caustic ice.
“Not the will to walk away from our marriage. If you believe that, you’ve sorely miscalculated.”
“Maybe you’re the one who miscalculated.” Imani allowed a healthy dose of humor to infuse her voice.
“Imani—”
“I hope you have a productive trip.”
“Imani!”
She hung up the phone. It rang immediately but she ignored it and checked the time. She should meet Yasmin downstairs now.
She gathered up her notes and other items and drop them into a large handbag. She then turned off the phone, which hadn’t stopped its incessant ringing since she hung up. She dropped it into the bag and then pulled a second phone out of one of the desk drawers. It wasn’t fully charged, but she dropped it into the bag, as well.
Then she marched out of the office with a smile on her face.
20
Today had been long, but ended on a positive note. Imani now had a good idea of how the literacy program worked and how it aided the outlying communities. When they walked through the makeshift teaching centers set up outdoors or at someone’s home, she met and spoke to dozens of women and girls who dropped in during the day to take classes. But like Yasmin, she wondered how to quantify the program’s success to justify the doubling of the budget Yasmin wanted.
Both women climbed into the back of the SUV, and the driver headed out of the last of the communities they visited for the day. They both removed the shaylas they’d worn with their pantsuits out of respect for the conservative nature of the people in the countryside, and settled down for the ride back to Kabatra.
“You probably won’t believe this, but the reason I also want to expand the program is because there are conservative members of the Parliament who think we’re funneling too much of the government’s money into free programs that provide little benefit to the country as a whole. I need to get Wasim on my side, or the program could be shut down completely.”
Imani couldn’t believe her ears. “What? That’s ridiculous. It’s clearly beneficial.”
“Clear to you and me, but I couldn’t get one single member of Parliament to send a representative to come see how the program works. They simply don’t care.” Yasmin sighed. “I don’t understand why they would have a problem with expanding programs that help people.”
“We have similar problems with certain members of The Most High Council in Zamibia. They can always find money for their pet projects like expanding training facilities for the soldiers in their communities or paying for grander buildings and furniture for their administrative offices. But there’s always a budgetary crisis whenever we need to fund programs for the less fortunate. Dahlia said the same problems exist in the United States. Extremists weaponize Christianity and use it against the poor, the less fortunate, and to limit women’s rights and protections in favor of men. Like many people who want to keep power, they blame the less fortunate for their own plight and prefer to have an uneducated population because they’re easier to control.”
Yasmin shook her head in disgust. “I wish we could get rid of the whole lot of them.”
They both laughed.
Yasmin’s phone beeped when they left the dead zone where there was no cellular signal. She glanced down at the screen and frowned.
“What’s wrong?” Imani asked.
“Farouk sent me a text. This Hilton deal is so stressful. It’s his biggest one yet, and he’s very worried. I have to do my wifely duty and convince him he can handle the project.” She tapped out a message.
They had such a cute relationship. They stayed in close contact with each other and were always holding hands or if they were seated together, Yasmin would rest her head on his shoulder. And it was clear how much Farouk adored his wife and respected her opinions. Her support and ideas were an integral part of their relationship.
Imani tamped down the bit of envy she experienced, disappointed that she was in a very different situation. There was no evidence that Wasim saw her as anything more than his wife and the future mother of his children. He didn’t seek out her opinion and he hadn’t once asked about any of her projects.
Yasmin completed the text and asked, “When does Wasim return?”
“Day after tomorrow.”
“I remember when Farouk and I were newlyweds. Any time apart always seemed like forever. I know you’ll be happy when Wasim is back.”
Imani smiled but didn’t respond.
Yasmin’s phone beeped as Farouk answered her message. Her sister-in-law started texting again, and she stared out at the passing countryside, eyes traveling over the green hills, sheep, and horses grazing on the grass, wondering what Wasim was doing now.
Wasim lied.
He lied so he could exit a very important meeting, claimed an emergency and left two representatives behind because he couldn’t concentrate after his conversation with Imani. He managed to get through most of the day, but toward the end, he made up an excuse and opted out of the evening meal and the next day’s meetings.
As night fell, he stepped out of the elevator on the top floor of the palace and stormed through the halls looking for Imani.
When one of her maids approached, he glared at her. “Where is my wife?” he asked, tugging on his tie. He could hardly breathe. His suit, tie, and socks—every article of clothing on his body constricted him.
“She is not here, Your Excellency.”
“Where. Is. She?” He’d called all three of her phones several times and she hadn’t answered them once or returned any of his messages.
“She left this morning and hasn’t been back—”
“Get her social secretary to my apartment now. I will be waiting.”
“Yes, Your Excellency.” The maid bowed her head and ran off.
Wasim followed the young woman out the door and stalked to his apartment. He tossed his jacket and tie on a chair in the living room and paced the floor.
She couldn’t have left him, could she? Was she on a plane to Zamibia?
Traveling out of the country took a coordinated effort of bodyguards, airport clearance, and a whole host of organizing that she couldn’t have done on short notice.
Or could she? Imani was resourceful.
A timid knock came on the door. “Yes?” he yelled.
His manservant opened the door. “Zariah is here to see you, Your Excellency.”
“Send her in,” Wasim said, waving his hand agitatedly.
Zariah entered, and his manservant hovered outside the open door.
Poise kept Zariah’s spine straight, but fear pooled in her eyes.
“Can you tell me where my wife is?” he asked.
She held an electronic tablet in her hand and looked down at the screen. “A-according to the schedule, she had a meeting with Princess Yasmin this morning.”
“Where is she now?” Wasim asked, the frayed edges of his patience about to snap if she didn’t give him more information soon.
“I-I am not certain. There was nothing else on her schedule for today.”
Wasim walked over to Zariah. She visibly shook as he approached.
“Am I not king?” he asked, uncaring that he sounded like an imperial jackass.
She frowned and swallowed, confusion in her face. “I-yes, Your Excellency. You are king.”
“Then how is it that I am king and no one can tell me where my wife is? When I left this morning, she was here. Now she is not.”
She swallowed again.
“Where is my wife, Zariah?”
“I-I don’t know, Your Excellency,” she whispered.
Wasim leaned closer. “Then find her and bring her to me!”
Zariah closed her eyes, looking like she was about to burst into tears.
His manservant stepped into the room. “Your Excellency, we will work on this right away.” He bowed and without touching Zariah, guided the trembling woman back out the door.
The minute Wasim received word that Imani had arrived on the palace grounds, he went to her apartment. He turned one of her chairs toward the door, sat down, and waited.
She strolled into the bedroom like nothing was amiss and pulled up short when she saw him.
“Did Zariah tell you I wanted to see you?” he asked.
“Yes, but not only her. Seems you’ve been a complete ass to everyone. I could barely take a step without one of the servants telling me that you wanted to see me.”
“And yet you are here, in your apartment instead of mine. Like I knew you’d be.”
“I’ve been gone all day, Wasim. I wanted to clean up first. I told your manservant I would come see you shortly. You would have gotten the message if you were over there instead of here.” Her eyes challenged him with not a shred of remorse in their dark depths.
“Where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you since I came back.”
“With Yasmin. We went into the countryside. She wanted me to see the work she was doing to combat illiteracy among the women. When we came back to Kabatra, we went to dinner together. Is that all right with you?”
“You could have called. You could have returned one of the many messages I left on all of your cell phones.”
“I haven’t checked my phones. I turned off my personal phone this morning, left one in the office, and the third one died while I was out.”
Wasim pushed to his feet. “I have been going out of my mind with worry. I even called your father.” He’d felt like an idiot, hinting around, trying to find out if she was in Zamibia without actually asking.
Imani’s eyes widened. “Why? I expected you back after tomorrow. Maybe you should’ve told me you planned to come back early. Then I could have been here patiently waiting for your return.”
“Do you think this is a joke? Someone should always know where you are. Anything could have happened to you.”
“Zariah knew where I was.”
“Hardly.”
She flung up her hands in exasperation. “I was with Yasmin. You’re obviously very angry, and I don’t know why. You couldn’t reach me for a few hours, that’s it. You’re overreacting.”
“You said you would leave me!” he thundered.
Imani’s mouth fell open. “You really thought I went back to Zamibia?”
Wasim let out a heavy breath to calm down. His head throbbed. “Yes. Because you got what you wanted. The agreement has been signed.”
She walked slowly toward one of the tables near the bed and set down her bag and scarf. “I know I said that, but I didn’t mean it.”
“You can’t say such things to me, Imani. I couldn’t concentrate on my work. All I could think about was getting back here to you.”
He was opening himself up to her, baring his soul in a way that made him extremely uncomfortable. This knowledge would give her too much power, yet he couldn’t stop talking.
“Next time I’ll call.” She turned to face him. So calm. So cool. As if this conversation bored her and the idea of him going out of his mind didn’t matter.
“I want you.”
Eyes widening, she took a step back. “Now?”
“Yes. Now.”
He stalked over to her and thrust his fingers into her hair.
“I’m filthy,” she whispered, even as he felt her body leaned into his.
“You are never filthy to me.”
He tossed aside his shirt and roughly removed her clothes, fingers trembling with the power of his need, yet somehow managing to maintain enough control to not shred her garments in his haste to get her naked.
Placing her on the bed, he whispered, “This is not filthy.” He dragged his tongue along the slit at the apex of her thighs and she cried out. “This is not filthy.” He sucked her chocolate nipples and squeezed her breasts while rubbing his hands over the curves of her waist and hips.
He unzipped and then spread her legs, almost nutting as he looked down at her, glistening and swollen in her need for him. Briefly closing his eyes, he fisted his erection and guided himself into her body.
Imani opened, granting him access into the depths of her quivering flesh.
“This is how I want you to greet me when I come home. With your legs open and your body ready,” he whispered gutturally.
He sank into her, almost collapsing but then recharged with deep, forceful strokes that pushed air from his lungs and prompted breathless cries from her lips.
He started slow but increased the tempo as her moans filled his ears. His hard chest crushed her breasts and silently, he prayed for the stamina to hold back until she climaxed, but it was so damn hard to maintain control when she writhed and moaned with every thrust.
The past twelve hours had been a nightmare. The thought of her not being here when he came back had consumed and tortured him beyond anything he’d ever experienced before.
As she came, her cries fueled his faster, deeper thrusts. She gripped the sheets and her body quivered around him, while his breaths came out as heavy huffs near her ear.
“I will never grow tired of the sight of you coming for me. Only me,” Wasim groaned, and let go with a final thrust and squeeze of her ass as he emptied inside of her. He kept the full weight of his body off her by resting on his arms. His head fell to the scented curve of her neck, his labored breaths pounding against her collarbone.
“Never leave me,” he whispered hoarsely.
The words tumbled from his lips in a shameless plea. Not like the voice of a king, the ruler of all he could see, whose every sentence became law as soon as they were uttered from his lips. With her, he was merely a man, desperate to hold onto the most valuable person in his life. The one person he was beginning to think his heart couldn’t beat without.
“I didn’t think you cared.” Imani quickly turned her face away as if embarrassed she’d spoken the words.
Wasim lifted his head. “Why would you say that? Look at me.” He twisted her face back around to him. “Why would you say that?”
“Because this is all I am to you. A body to lose yourself in.” Hurt filled her eyes, and she pushed him off and rolled away. “It’s time for you to go back to your apartment, isn’t it?” Her voice was completely devoid of emotion.
Wasim froze in shock. Then he fell onto his back and stared up at the chandelier. The glaring light had shined down on them t
he entire time they made love. He considered not moving, but then thought better of it. He had too much to think about.
“I’m leaving, but we will talk tomorrow.”
She didn’t reply.
Wasim eased from the bed, got dressed, and left her alone.
21
The next morning, Wasim rose early. He hadn’t slept much anyway because Imani stayed on his mind. He ate breakfast and then went down to the administrative offices to work. The rooms were mostly silent, as much of the staff hadn’t arrived yet.
The IT guy bowed briefly at him as they passed in the hallway before Wasim entered his office. He sank into the chair behind his enormous desk and rubbed his bearded jaw.
Women never failed to confuse him. He thought he had done the right thing by showing Imani that he signed the blasted agreement. He assumed she’d be pleased he sent her proof and that might ease the tension that hovered like a specter over their marriage. He was certain the unsigned agreement remained a barrier between them, why she’d been withdrawn and cool except for the hot nights they spent between the sheets.
Though she did express thanks, she’d been anything but thankful. There had been no joy or appreciation in her voice. Only censure and ire.
He’d been so busy since his father’s death, tackling the daunting task of the issues at the palace. Much of his time in recent weeks had been spent reorganizing his Cabinet, and he’d removed a third of the advisors, which caused a minor uproar. He filled his time with these tasks, giving her space he thought would ease her into their marital relationship and her role as queen. Wrong again. Her comments after they had made love last night showed his thought process had been flawed. She actually wanted to spend time with him and was hurt that he’d limited the amount of time he spent with her.
Aih, he had a lot to learn.
When Talibah arrived, he told her to cancel all his plans for the following day and have Imani’s secretary do the same for her schedule. When she expressed surprise, he explained he was going to spend the day with his wife.
Queen of Barrakesch Page 12
