by Erin Snihur
Rolling his eyes at his friend’s teasing, Amoz’ mind drifted to Teresa. Since that first night, Teresa had spent most nights in his bed, in his arms. It had taken some serious coaxing from Teresa to get Amoz to allow her to leave the bed in order for her and her sister to do more exploring of Elish. Under Amoz and Tariq’s supervision, of course. From snorkeling to cliff jumping, they did it all. From touring the many town markets to walking the ruins of old temples, they saw it all. Under disguise, Amoz had been shocked to find many of the local people, if they recognized him, chose to keep quiet and just enjoyed his presence and praise of their wares.
As he watched his friend depart in his own private limousine, Amoz stared at the beautiful resort he’d often come to relax and get away from the stress of the throne. With Teresa leaving in a few days, Amoz wondered if he would enjoy the resort as much as he had in her company. No, it would not be the same without her.
Amoz wasn’t sure when his feelings for Teresa had turned from physical attraction to more of an obsessive liking. Perhaps this was love? There had been no love between his own parents. Just a friendship born from an arranged marriage. Amoz had sensed it all his life. How could he possibly know if what he felt for Teresa was indeed love?
Only one way to know. Ask her to stay.
Determined, Amoz strode back into the resort lobby, but instead of consuming his thoughts with Teresa and how he would tell her about his feelings, he was confronted with an American man yelling at the front desk clerk, Henry.
“You don’t understand! It’s of the utmost importance you give me her room number! It’s a matter of life or death, man,” the man yelled as Henry’s face grew red with anger.
“I apologize sir, but resort policy is clear. We cannot give out our client’s information without consent. This is a very prestigious and discreet resort. We cannot have you interrupting our guests while they are enjoying their privacy,” Henry protested.
“Fine, don’t give me her number. Just call her room, tell her I’m here. She’ll want to see me. I’m her husband, for God’s sake,” the man continued to plead and Amoz rolled his eyes at the man’s attempts.
Motioning to the security guards who were stationed at the doors to follow him, Amoz approached the front desk, startling Henry who grew white as a sheet at the sight of Amoz.
“Your Majesty! I do apologize for the disturbance. I was just about to handle this trespasser,” Henry stuttered out and marched around the front desk to stand before the American man.
The man behind Henry stared at Amoz in a mixture of shock and confusion. Amoz scanned him from head to toe. The man’s pale complexion, skinny nature and weary expression gave Amoz pause. His rumpled clothes and disheveled appearance set Amoz off.
He hoped this man wasn’t looking for a wife who was holed up in the resort with her lover. It happened more often than not. Usually Amoz received a report or two about quarreling couples who tended to use the resort as their own personal hideaway for liaisons with their paramours.
Raising his hand to put Henry at ease, Amoz spoke calmly, his voice growing deeper as he stepped into the role of Sheik. “It’s alright Henry. What does this man want that he cannot find elsewhere?”
Brushing past Henry, the man stepped closer, but the security guards moved in synchronization to stop him. They had the man held by both his arms before he could take another step.
“Hey! Let me go!” the man struggled and yelled, his wedding ring shining from his left hand as he thrashed in the guards’ arms.
Raising his hand again to calm the guards, Amoz hushed the man. “Calm yourself. They only wish to protect me. You must be calm and then they will release you.”
The man’s thrashing ceased as he breathed heavily before nodding and, when he had calmed, the guards released him, but did not move away from his sides, intent on being close in case he made another brash move.
“There, better now? My name is Sheik Amoz el-Safar, owner of this resort and ruler of this country. And you are?” Amoz asked, but trailed off when he realized he didn’t know the man’s name.
The man seemed stunned into shock for a few minutes, before answering so quickly that Amoz raised an eyebrow pointedly. Answering again, this time slower, the man ran a hand nervously through his hair.
“Gerald Evans, sir,” the man spoke, but Amoz didn’t hear anything further.
All he heard was the man’s name over and over again. His mind raced as he recalled everything Teresa had mentioned of her ex-husband. A man who still wore his wedding ring. Finally, he was able to bring himself out of the brink of confusion and grasp what the man was saying.
“Her mother is under some heavy sedation and I couldn’t get a hold of her or her sister. I know my wife and I have grown distant as of yet, but she and I both said and did things we weren’t proud of. I want to bring her home. For her mother, for her family and for the family that we hope to grow,” Gerry murmured confidently.
“Teresa Evans?” Amoz asked, watching as shock and suspicion grew over Gerry’s face.
“Yes. How did you know her name?” Gerry asked.
“We met on the resort. She is here with her sister,” Amoz murmured non-committedly, not wishing to mention to the man that only this morning he’d been tongue deep in his wife.
Gerry snorted softly. “Yes, I know. Samantha thought it would be best for Teresa to get away and relax. The last year has been stressful on Teresa. We’ve been trying to have a baby. Now, her mother is in the hospital and I haven’t been able to reach Teresa or Samantha. Can you help me?”
“You and Teresa are happily married?” Amoz asked, stupefied.
“Yes, of course…why would you…oh…, I know what this is,” Gerry laughed sharply, “Samantha has it in her head that Teresa needed a vacation full of no strings attached fun. I told her she was crazy and Teresa promised this wasn’t that kind of resort. So yes, we are happily married. Now, can you help me find my wife?”
Teresa felt as though she were floating on a cloud. After escorting her to her room, Amoz had promised they would meet by the pool for some relaxing fun. Staring around her room, Teresa grimaced at the mess. Samantha and Tariq had clearly gotten along very well in their absence.
“So, you and Tariq?” Teresa inquired hesitantly as she lifted a discarded thong from her own bed and threw it on Samantha’s.
“Don’t start the sisterly judgment just yet, Teresa, I could say the same thing about you and Amoz,” Samantha called out from her seat on the patio.
Blushing, Teresa strode out onto the sunny patio and sat in the other empty chair, smiling with glee at her sister, “I guess you could.”
Laughing in delight, Samantha slid her sunglasses down her nose and waggled her eyebrows at Teresa, “That good, is he?”
“Better than anyone I’ve ever been with, actually,” Teresa murmured wistfully before shaking her head of the erotic memories of the past few days before turning back to her sister’s cheeky expression, “And Tariq?”
“Sinful. Exactly what I needed,” Samantha said with a shrug and slid her sunglasses back on.
“How do you do that?” Teresa asked before she could stop herself.
“Have sex with no strings?” Samantha asked and at Teresa’s nod continued, “Tariq and I are quite similar, but he and I both see life for what it is. Fleeting. So, we enjoy life to its fullest. You want a family, a loving husband and a happy future. I want to be successful in my career and live a life full of adventures and dalliances that I can look back on in my old age and giggle about. Is that so wrong?”
Teresa shrugged. “It wasn’t how we were raised.”
Samantha snorted. “No one is raised to be this way, T, but I’m sure after this vacation, your eyes will be opened in more ways than one. Can you see Amoz settling down?”
Shaking her head, Teresa sighed and leaned back in her chair. “No, of course not. I wouldn’t expect him to. We’ve only known each other for a few weeks and, besides, we are leaving in a few
days.”
Nodding solemnly, Samantha reached over and squeezed Teresa’s hand soothingly. “I can tell when you are in love, T. You can’t love him. He’ll only disappoint you in the end like Gerry.”
Groaning, Teresa slid her hands out of her sister’s and covered her face. “How did this happen? I didn’t want to get involved with him, but I couldn’t help it. He’s perfect.”
“No man is perfect,” Samantha muttered before turning her face back to the sun. “Trust me, if they were, the world would be a safer place.”
Closing her eyes and shifting her face to the sun, Teresa groaned. “I can’t believe we’re leaving in a few days.”
At the sound of her sister’s non-committal agreement, Teresa tensed and sat up. “Did you tell mom what time our flight in Colorado was going to be arriving?”
Not looking her sister in the eye, Samantha waved her hand back toward the room. “We had an agreement, remember? No phones and no contact with home. Mom knows if she needs to speak with us, she can call the hotel.”
“She’s going to be worried, you know how freaked out Gerry made her when she mentioned we were coming here. He practically told her we were going to be kidnapped off the resort and skinned alive,” Teresa exclaimed, biting her lip as she thought about her mother's relationship with her ex-husband. Her mother loved Gerry and could never see how much he had hurt Teresa. She’d never believed the sweet man who’d rescued their mother from poverty could be a monster.
Sighing in frustration, Samantha motioned to the suite closet where the safe was. “Fine, go unlock it. I guess we deserve a few moments of phone time.”
Rolling her eyes at her sister’s attitude, Teresa marched into the room and punched in the code for the safe. As she did, someone at the door knocked and Teresa groaned at the intrusion.
Please don’t let it be Amoz, I’m not ready yet! Teresa prayed and called out to her sister, “Can you get the door while I get our phones?”
“Fine,” Samantha grumbled and stood from her chair. “Better not be Amoz, I’m not the sister he wants.”
Giggling at her sister’s words, Teresa bit her lip in excitement as she grabbed her sister’s phone and her own phone. Turning them on at the same time, Teresa listened as her sister grumbled under her breath that she was coming when someone knocked on their door again.
Hearing the creek of the door and her sister swearing at the same time, Teresa rolled her eyes. Her sister had never been one for manners or proper behavior. She only hoped Samantha wasn’t openly swearing at Amoz. No need to see how uncouth or uncultured they really were.
As the screens of the phones lit up and notifications began pinging to life, Teresa called out, “Who is it?”
Before she could slide her fingers across the screen of her phone to unlock it, a cold and sweat inducing voice rose above the silence at her back.
“Hello Teresa,” the voice merely said.
Spinning around on the bed where she sat with the phones, Teresa gasped at the sight of her husband, or rather, ex-husband, Gerald Evans. Samantha stood behind him, her eyes wide and full of confusion and anger.
“What are you doing here?” Teresa managed to stutter out.
“I’ve come to take you home,” Gerry murmured and looked over his shoulder at her sister. “You too.”
Samantha scoffs and pushes a lock of her own hair away from her now tan face, “And why would we leave with you?”
Gerry sneered at her sister and then turned a confused look back on Teresa, “You haven’t been getting any of my messages, have you?”
Pushing past him, Samantha placed herself in front of Teresa in a protective stance, “Of course she hasn’t. You abused her! Besides, the divorce papers are being prepared as we speak and you have no right to even be within fifty feet of Teresa or our family. How did you even know where we were?”
Teresa stared at her sister’s back before turning to the phones on the bed. Clutching her phone tightly in her hand, Teresa swiped it unlock, ignoring the words spewing from her sister’s mouth as she laid into Gerry.
As she hit the messages button, Teresa’s eyes grew wide at the sight of hundreds of messages from Gerry. At the beginning were his cruel words about the prospect of being served with the divorce papers, but they slowly became insistent and even confusing. Some said ‘you need to get home now’. And then, at the bottom, the message that Teresa had never thought to see.
Teresa, your mother’s been in an accident. You need to get home now! I know we’ve had our issues, but she needs you and Samantha.
Finally, there’s a few voicemails. Clicking them, Teresa hears the usual frantic voice from Gerry, urging her to call him and take him back until the crisp, cool voice of a woman comes on. A nurse from their local hospital, asking for Teresa and Samantha to return her call immediately regarding their mother and her car accident.
“Sam!” Teresa’s outburst halts Samantha from picking apart Gerry, who merely stands there, taking it with a solemn expression on his face.
As her sister turns to face Teresa, she feels the tears beginning to roll down her face, “It’s mom. There’s been an accident.”
14
Amoz watched from the upper balcony of the lobby as the woman, who very well could have been the woman of his dreams, scurries to the front desk with her sister and husband in tow. As her husband sets their suitcases down, his hand comes up to rub Teresa’s back soothingly.
Amoz wanted to strangle the man in that moment. Hell, he wanted to strangle both of them. Was everything she’d told him a lie? How could a woman lie about such things?
What a fool he’d been. Taking a sip of his drink, Amoz watched as they checked out of the hotel while Samantha was on her cell phone yelling, but her words didn’t carry very far. As he turned his eyes back on the woman who had tricked him into falling for her in a way, he’d promised he never would with a woman, Amoz cursed. The front desk clerk had walked away to finalize their checking out and Teresa was now being held by her husband. The man who had apparently abused her. No woman who had been abused in the way Teresa had described would allow such a thing.
Cursing to himself, Amoz watched as Teresa’s husband and Samantha moved toward the waiting taxi with their luggage. Teresa remained behind at the desk and was writing something on a card. Giving the front desk clerk the card, Amoz watched as she departed the hotel, disappearing out of view.
Forever.
Clutching his glass so tightly it chipped slightly, Amoz set the glass down and tried to breathe through his anger. He should head to the gym or to the training yards in the capital. There he could work out his anger and foolishness in a productive way.
As the front desk clerk stepped around the desk and walked the winding staircase toward him, Amoz cursed again, this time in Arabic. The clerk flinched as he approached, sensing Amoz’ mood.
“A note, your Majesty, from Mrs. Evans,” the clerk murmured and, before Amoz could howl in pain at the idea of her being a Mrs. anything, the clerk left the note in Amoz’ outstretched hand and scurried off to hide from his Sheik’s anger.
Staring at the feminine scrawl of his name on the folded piece of paper, Amoz contemplated ripping it to shreds, but paused. He needed closure. Let him see what other lies she would spin.
Opening the note, Amoz stared at the one line in the familiar handwriting.
I’m sorry. I will always cherish paradise. Teresa.
Crumpling the paper up and discarding it in his drink, Amoz’ stomach soured. Ignoring the shuffled sounds of Palo’s feet approaching him, Amoz finally opened his eyes from his brooding and turned his head toward his most trusted advisor.
“Find me a wife, Palo. I need an heir,” Amoz muttered softly and the only indication Palo heard was the shuffling of his feet departing. Left wallowing in his misery, Amoz leaned back in the chair and stared at the painted ceiling of his resort.
How could you, Teresa?
15
Teresa was in shock. Leaning ag
ainst the counter of the hospital’s public bathroom, she flipped her phone between her fingers. At the sound of the timer going off on her phone, Teresa shuts it off and closes her eyes as her heart rate skyrockets. Breathing steadily once more, Teresa opens her eyes and picks up the pen like object.
Heart plummeting, Teresa doesn’t stop the tears that well up in her eyes at the sight of the blue line. Clutching the pregnancy test to her chest, Teresa covers her mouth with her other hand to stifle her sob.
Pregnant. How could this have happened?
Shaking her head, Teresa caps the top of the test and throws it into her purse. Facing the mirror, she stares at her reflection, thinking back to just a few weeks ago when she was standing in the mirror with Amoz as he made love to her pressed against the counter in his suite’s bathroom.
Shuddering at the memories, Teresa’s hand instinctively moved to her stomach. The nausea and exhaustion made sense, but at the same time, she had been too busy trying to arrange for her mother’s care.
Oh no, mom! Teresa inwardly thought and quickly washed her hands before rushing out of the bathroom, intent on getting to her mother’s room before her mother woke up.
With her mind racing as she opened the bathroom door, Teresa barely had a moment to pause before colliding with another person.
“Hello, wife,” Gerry’s icy voice spoke and Teresa thrashed out of his arms, backing away as she scanned the area. Thankful that they were close enough to the nurses’ station that a few nurses eyed them with curiosity.
“What are you doing here?” Teresa asked with a glare. After coming out of her shock and thanks to Samantha’s slick maneuvering, she had managed to have the restraining order re-enforced upon their arrival in Colorado a few weeks ago. When her mother awoke and the awful truth of her memory loss discovered, it had killed Teresa all over again to have to explain to her mother why her favorite son-in-law wasn’t around.
