CHAPTER SIX
The document had arrived with the condolences.
Odd, given the size of the envelope, but then again, with the Australian postmark and being addressed specifically to him, he could understand that it had been bundled in with the rest.
He stared at the pages long and hard, but every time he blinked the same statement was staring straight back at him, the very words accusatory in light of how he’d behaved.
IN THE EVENT OF THE DEATH OR INCAPACITATION OF SABRA JASAM ADAMS AND DAVID WILLIAM ADAMS THEIR SOLE SURVIVING DEPENDANT MALAKHI KALEM ADAMS WILL BECOME THE LEGAL WARD AND FALL UNDER THE ENDURING LEGAL GUARDIANSHIP OF EVELYN ANN ADAMS. THE CHILD IS TO BE RAISED, IN ALL MATTERS, IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE GUARDIAN’S WISHES.
What had his sister been thinking?
They’d spoken about this. They’d formed an agreement. True, it wasn’t in writing, but he had considered it iron-clad. And that agreement had inferred custody upon him. Kalem was the heir to the kingdom of Ishala until such time as Malakhi produced an heir of his own. As such, it was entirely inappropriate for the child to be raised by anyone but him.
Especially Evie.
Evie.
Desire danced on his skin as he thought of her. Why was she such a bad choice? She loved Kalem, that much was obvious. But in the ways of their people she was ignorant. Could Sabra really have intended to have the boy raised by an Australian woman on the other side of the world?
He dropped his pen forcefully and flicked to the final page of the document. Two names seemed to be tapping him on the shoulder, reminding him that they’d signed this document because they damned well wanted it to be followed.
Surprise warred with indignation; it bred impotence and frustration. Could he really disregard the wishes of the sister he’d adored? What choice did he have? Allowing Evelyn to raise the child was out of the question. Wasn’t it?
* * *
The heat of the pool area had induced an almost-trance-like-state. It was broken by the sound of footsteps. She turned sharply, glancing towards the door.
“Fayaz!” The smile came easily to her lips. “What a welcome surprise.”
“Ah! I am glad. I just spoke to Fatima and she said I might find you here.”
Evie nodded. “Kalem wanted to dip his toes into the water,” she explained, standing with fluid grace and taking a step backwards.
“And you?” He said with a teasing smile.
“Tempting.” In fact, as soon as she found Amina, she’d ask her about swimming. The country was steeped in ritual and Evie suspected there would be certain protocols to follow before just diving into a royal pool.
“How are you finding our heat? Have you adjusted any better?”
She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “Hardly. I’m sure in time I’ll learn to cope.”
He nodded. “Yes, that’s right. You are staying, then?”
Her cheeks flamed as she thought of the deal she’d forged with Malakhi. “Yes.”
“Good. I’m glad. I think this will be beneficial for the child. And for you. To lose Sabra and David, and then your nephew: this would be too cruel.”
Her eyes misted over and she shook her head apologetically. “I cry so easily these days.”
“That’s only natural,” he soothed.
“It’s stupid. Ironically, Sabra and Dave would give me a very hard time if they saw what a sook I’ve become.”
“Yes, I can well imagine it,” he nodded. “Of Sabra, at least.”
He tilted his head towards the door. “I’m just leaving a meeting. I have no plans now. Would you like to join me for lunch?”
“Lunch?” She frowned.
“Yes. It’s a meal. I’d thought it was universal but perhaps it is an Ishalan custom? It is something we generally eat in the middle hours of the day. Sometimes accompanied by wine. Often conversation. Are you familiar with it?”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay. Very funny.”
His grin changed his face completely; he looked roguishly charming. “There’s a restaurant in town that does the best Lak-ilman you’ll ever taste.”
“Oh!” Her smile brightened at the lure of leaving the palace’s walls. “I thought you meant just to eat here? I’d love to go into the town. Having spent so long looking down on its colourful buildings, I’m desperate to actually explore it myself.”
“You mean you haven’t yet been? This is a travesty. For surely this ancient city is one of the most beautiful in the whole world. Rome has nothing to Fashil’s paved alleys and stone buildings. Come. Let me show you.”
She nodded again, so thrilled at the idea that she forgot altogether about the heat. “What’s Lak-ilm…”
“Lak-ilman?” He stood aside, allowing her to pass through the archway before her. “I thought you were a chef?”
“Yeah. But my knowledge of your food is limited.”
He nodded. “Well. It’s hard to describe. To call it a curry would not be to do it justice. It is a spiced stew, unique to the city. Other places try to copy it but there is something in the sea air and ancient coals that makes it taste right only here.”
“Sounds great.”
“Come. I’m parked this way.”
For weeks, Evie had been looking down at the city and building it up in her mind. But the reality was beyond anything she could ever have envisaged. The streets wound almost in circles, forming a maze of paths that she was quite certain she’d never be able to follow, if left to her own desires. The palace was high on the hill in the distance, and from down below she got a greater sense for the vast size of the place. The wall extended on each direction, keeping it private and secure, and giving it a feeling of almost medieval defensiveness.
“Here.” He slid the car into a tight space, lightly bumping the car in front. Evie shifted her gaze to Fayaz’s for a reaction but he shrugged. “That’s driving in the capital. It’s bedlam.”
He came quickly to her side of the car and opened the door, bowing in an exaggerated fashion. “M’lady?”
She grinned. “Thank you, kind sir.”
Just behind them there was a charmingly quaint restaurant. The walls were stone but arched glass windows were fitted along its front. Green wrought-iron chairs sat on the uneven footpath, all in a line, facing the street. A pot plant with geraniums stood sentry at the door, bright and enthusiastic despite the heat.
Fayaz was greeted with affection by a rotund man in a green apron.
“This is Matir,” he said with a smile. “He doesn’t speak English.”
“That’s not his fault. I’m the one who needs to learn Ishalan,” she pointed out self-deprecatingly.
“He asks to be allowed to prepare a menu for you.”
“Oh.” Her eyes flew to Fayaz’s. “I’m in your hands. Whatever you think.”
“You are a chef, are you not?”
She nodded. “But a pastry chef. I’m out of my depth here.”
Fayaz’s shoulders lifted in a small shrug. “Okay. Leave it to me.”
The food was delicious. They shared several different bowls, each of them small enough to offer just a taste before another was brought in its place. But by the tenth small portion, Evie had to lift her hands in surrender.
“I honestly don’t think I can eat another thing. Will he be offended?”
Fayaz grinned. “Probably, but only because he loves to cook for beautiful women.”
She laughed. “Charmer.” She relaxed back in the chair and lifted her wine to her lips. “Do you bring many here? Women, I mean. Not beautiful … I’m not saying I’m beautiful.” She flushed to the roots of her hair.
“Of course you know you are; do not be modest on my account.”
Evie shook her head. “Are you trying to dodge the question?”
He laughed. “No. I have brought some women here. But I think Matir likes you best.”
“Well, he’s only human.” She shook her head, surprised by how relaxed she felt with this man. Perhaps it was the way Sabra had spoken of him, with such obvious affection, that filled her with a corresponding sense of happiness. “What was your meeting this morning?”
“We have a delegation of Princes from neighbouring palaces visiting. I was catching up with Malakhi to discuss the objectives of the conference.”
“Which are?”
He shook his head. “Complicated and confidential.”
“I see.” She bit down on her lip, so, so tempted to ask more about Malakhi. But she couldn’t do it. To her lover or this man, who had been kind to her and deserve better than to be used as a conduit of information. “You’ve worked for the royal family for a long time?”
“Yes.” Pride radiated from his handsome face. “It is the way of my people. Holding a position within the royal household is not simply a job; it is a vocation. A calling. The trust bestowed on us by the family is seen as a great honour. My father held this job before me –this is how I knew Sabra and Malakhi. I grew up with them. I was favoured by the late Sheikh, and he invited me to partake in classes with them at the palace.” His smile was indulgent. “I think he wanted his children to form friendships with people from all walks of life.”
“Progressive,” she said gently.
“Indeed. He was a great man. As is his son.”
She nodded, her throat constricting. “I suppose we should be getting back …”
“You suppose right. I don’t want word to spread that I’ve kidnapped you.”
She laughed. “You have a willing hostage, if that’s the case.”
“Good. Perhaps you will join me again?”
“Any time,” she said honestly, standing swiftly. “I don’t have any friends here. Well, besides Amira, but I suspect I’ve already got her into trouble. It’s nice to have someone I can talk to.”
And talk they did, the whole winding, steep drive back to the palace gates.
He pulled his car to a halt in a small space by one of the side gates and once again opened her door for her.
“I’ll walk you back.”
“I’d tell you not to bother but honestly? I still get lost when I’m anywhere but the family quarters.”
He laughed. “It is an enormous building. Perhaps I shall bring you a map?”
“Actually, that really would be useful…”
His eyes were kind when he smiled. “Consider it done.”
He waited for her to precede him into the hallway.
“I was thinking about them, when you arrived,” she said slowly, as they turned a corner of the corridor.
He didn’t pretend not to comprehend her meaning. “Yes?”
“Sabra and Dave, I mean.”
He nodded. “I know. What were you thinking?”
They stopped walking by silent but mutual consent. Evie searched her brain for the right words. How could she explain the odd presentiment Sabra had felt? And was she betraying some kind of secret by sharing it?
Conversation reached them, derailing her thoughts completely. For she could detect Malakhi’s deep, exotic voice even when he spoke words she didn’t comprehend, in his own language. She turned her head in surprise; Fayaz did likewise.
Malakhi was walking with two other men, both dressed in robes similar to his, though neither lent them quite the same air of broad masculinity.
She smiled on autopilot; her heart was pounding in her chest.
His eyes bore into hers with an emotion she could not comprehend before moving to Fayaz.
She opened her mouth to say ‘hello’, but he came to a stop in the space before her and turned his back to her. He spoke only to Fayaz, and purposefully in their own language. The conversation was brief. A few words, and then one of the other men spoke.
Evie stood behind Malakhi, confusion and embarrassment mingling in her gut. She inched away by degrees, her eyes showing her hurt as he continued to speak as though she wasn’t there.
She watched, powerless, as the three men moved on, leaving Fayaz on the other side of the corridor to her. When they were a fair distance past, Malakhi stopped walking, turned and came quickly back to them.
He spoke quickly to Fayaz, and Fayaz alone, and then turned to rejoin his companions.
Evie’s heart was racing; her blood was fired by indignation and confusion.
“Evie?” Fayaz closed the distance between them, scanning her face. Why hadn’t this beautiful, exotic woman told him the truth? To think of how they’d spent the last two hours bred shame and mortification inside Fayaz. “Are you involved with him?”
She swept her eyes closed as she tried to make sense of what had just happened. What had she expected? Not for Malakhi to throw his arms around her and kiss her passionately on the lips. But to include her in a brief conversation? Why not? Was that so unreasonable? She could never have predicted that he would blank her in that manner. Wounds that had been inflicted in the preceding days began to fester more deeply.
“I …” She shook her head. “What did he say?”
“That I’m to take you back to his apartment and lock the door.” His expression was grim; Evie couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.
“I don’t understand.”
“Are you involved with him?”
Her cheeks drained of colour and she shook her head. “That’s not anyone’s business,” she said haltingly. She looked down quickly – yes, her dress was fine. It’s not like she was running around in a halter neck and shorts or in the bathers she desperately wanted to be wearing earlier. So why the cold disdain?
“Come,” Fayaz spoke urgently, apparently desperate to shake free of her. “I’ll show you the way.”
But Evie wasn’t having a bar of it! “I don’t understand, Fayaz. What exactly did he say? What’s wrong?”
“If you are involved with him, you have no place spending time alone with me.”
Her mouth dropped; her jaw slack. “You’re kidding?”
“I didn’t realise you were his.”
“I’m not his,” she snapped, appalled. “What the heck is with you two? No person can belong to another. Besides, you saw the way he was with me; like I don’t even exist.”
Fayaz seemed to be searching for the right words.
“Just spit it out,” she begged, desperately wanting to comprehend.
“Fine. You are his lover, no?”
“Yes,” she whispered, mortified.
“So it would be a great insult for him to acknowledge you in front of those men. In front of anyone, really.”
“What? So because we’re …” she lowered her voice to a whisper as a maid passed them. “So because we’re sleeping together I am no longer a woman in my own right?”
“It isn’t like this,” he murmured. “You are simply his. That’s all.”
“Like property?”
“That’s a little melodramatic. I understand there are great benefits to the arrangement. Financial benefits.”
“My God. I don’t want money. Fayaz … I don’t understand …”
He stopped walking. They were at the base of the stairs that led to the family suites. “I know. But it is for Malakhi to explain. He asked only that I escort you back.”
“Consider your job done,” she said, snapping at him despite the fact he was not really at fault. “I’d say ‘see you soon’ except it sounds like I’m not allowed to see anyone unless my lord and master approves.” She stormed away from him, fuming. She slammed the door of his apartment angrily.
But once she was in the privacy offered by the luxurious suite, her temper deflated swiftly, as though it had been popped by a pin. Her legs were shaking. She collapsed down on the edge of the bed and dipped her head forward, gripping it in her hands.
She sat like that for a long time. Long enough for the sun to begin to dip lower and cast orange hues across the room. But it was not yet dark when he returned.
His mood had apparently not improved.
He shut the door loudly. Evie startled, standing abruptly.
Malakhi didn’t notice the way her eyes were shimmering with sorrow. His own feelings were making any appreciation of hers impossible.
“We must speak.” The words ran into the room like an axe hitting a tree.
“You think?” She snapped sarcastically.
“What does this mean? Of course I think. I just said …”
“I was being sarcastic,” she shouted, thrusting her hands onto her hips. “How dare you ignore me like that?”
A muscle jerked in his jaw. “You are angry with me?”
“Damn straight. I’m not saying you had to put your arm around me and introduce me to your friends, but you could at least have smiled at me, or said ‘hey’. You turned your back on me! How dare you?”
“Introduce you to my friends? These men are Kings, Evelyn. Kings like me. Do you know how inappropriate it would have been for me to present you as my mistress?”
“So I’m good enough to sleep with, but once we leave this room I’m an embarrassment to you?”
The same muscle pulled at his jaw. “This is our arrangement.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t like it.”
His voice was gruff. “You are also not to encourage men like Fayaz.”
“Encourage … are you kidding me? We had lunch together. We talked. How is that ‘encouraging’ him?”
“I don’t think you understand. When I take a mistress, she is for my … appreciation only.”
Bile was coating her mouth. “So I’m not allowed to have a life of my own?”
“Of course you are,” he sighed exasperatedly. “But you are not allowed to go on lunch dates and drink wine with men in my employ.”
“How do you know …? Fayaz.”
He dipped his head forward in silent agreement.
“You’ve interrogated him.”
His lip lifted in a smile despite his dark mood. “I spared the rack,” he said with mock seriousness. “But yes. Once he was made aware of our … relationship … he felt obliged to confide the details of your time together to me.”
“He was just being kind to me,” she said hollowly, swinging away from him and wrapping her arms around her chest. “He’s a … friend. Someone I can talk to.” Her voice broke. “I don’t have anyone I can talk to. About Dave. And Sabra. He understands how I feel.” She ran her eyes over the city, remembering how beautiful it was from street level.
“You think I don’t?”
She shook her head sadly. Words were suddenly impossible.
“I didn’t like seeing you together,” he said, standing right behind her now.
“You think the worst of me without any cause,” she said softly, her mind tangling with the knots of her needs. “You thought I cheated on my husband –,”
“You did cheat on your husband,” he interrupted. “That kiss was hardly innocent.”
“You’re different. You don’t count.” She turned to look up at him. Her face showed the depths of her fears. “Do you really want to know why I left Nick?”
“Of course.”
“Because of you. You kissed me and I felt like the whole world opened up for me.” She squeezed her eyes shut on the admission. “It was never like that with him. I had thought, for years, that I just wasn’t a very sexual person. After I left him I went out with a heap of guys. I kissed a heap of guys.” She didn’t see the way his expression darkened. “I wanted to feel what I did with you. But there was nothing. Nothing. Until I came here and saw you, and it’s there again.” She forced herself to meet his eyes. “I hate you, you know. I hate the way you treat me. I hate the way you view women, and the way you view sex. But you make me feel more alive than I can explain. It’s like the world is black and white until I’m with you.”
He lifted a finger to her lips to stop her impassioned explanation.
“Didn’t you think about the position you were putting him in?”
“Of course I didn’t.” She shook her head slowly. “He asked me for lunch. I agreed. It’s as simple as that.”
“Nothing is simple with you,” he muttered crossly.
“I don’t understand what I did wrong.” She kept her voice level with effort.
“You are a divorced woman. You are my lover. And you were seen leaving the palace, and returning hours later, with one of my trusted advisors.”
“He’s someone I think of as a friend.” She closed her eyes. “I need friends. Don’t you see how … isolating this will be for me otherwise?”
His chest moved sharply with the rise and fall of his breaths. “You exposed him to the censure of my staff.”
“They should mind their own business,” she huffed crossly. She eased herself backwards, propping against the wall. “I didn’t know there was anything wrong with what we did.”
He shook his head. “There’s not.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “There shouldn’t be. It is … complicated.”
“I’m not like Leilani,” she said with a quiet confidence.
“No. You are nothing like Leilani.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not making comparisons of that nature. I just mean that it’s all muddy between us because of Kalem.”
“I wasn’t making comparisons of that nature, either, he promised.
“I’m not just a mistress.”
“No.” He rubbed his chin. “An idea occurred to me this afternoon.” He took one step and brought his body close to hers. His legs straddled hers; his body engulfed her with its masculine strength. “One that I think we should … consider.”
“I’m all ears.”
“No. You are far more than ears.” He lifted a finger and flicked her lobe teasingly. Keeping up with his mood shifts was giving her vertigo. “I am expected to marry. It is a duty and obligation that I have always felt.”
She held her breath, hating where this was going and yet unable to turn away for the morbid curiosity throbbing through her.
Her hair glowed like fire. Her hair had been the first thing he’d noticed, when they’d met. “What if you were to be my wife?”
The world was spinning far, far too fast. Evie lifted a hand and clutched the fabric of his robe for strength. “What did you just say?”
“I think we should marry.” He shrugged his broad shoulders as though he was asking her to share a pot of tea with him.
“But … why? We’re not in love.”
His face was impossible to read. “No. We’re not. But we are sexually compatible. We share a nephew. And we have both experienced a loss that would be difficult for anyone else to understand. Do you not feel this bonds us?”
Sadness choked her heart. “These are reasons for us to be friends. Not to get married.”
His smile was slightly mocking. “As my wife, you will have greater freedoms in the palace. The ability to lunch which whomever you wish. To speak to my guests as my equal. I would never again have to turn my back on you.”
“You shouldn’t have done that anyway.” Her expression flashed angrily.
“This is a country of traditions and obligations. Even Sabra knew that.”
“Yeah, and she ran as far as she could from them.” If Evie were less angry, she might have apologised for the unnecessary cruelty of the comment.
“Yes. But you cannot.”
She opened her mouth to protest and he swore softly.
Sabra’s ill-thought-out will played heavily on his mind. If Evie knew that she had the legal right to take Kalem, he would lose them both forever. It added extra determination to his argument. “Not if you want to live with Kalem. He is staying here, in Ishala, to be raised amongst our people.”
“So he can become just as set in his ways as you are?”
He compressed his lips with impatience. “Our ways are not bad. Sabra was happy here.” His eyes were dark, stormed by feeling. “And you will be too. But more so if you marry me.”
“That’s absolutely crazy.”
“Why? We are already sleeping together. There is only benefit to you in this arrangement. You will have greater privileges, respect, wealth, and our personal situation needn’t change.”
That was, of course, in a nutshell what Evie feared. Marriage to a man like Malakhi, without the warmth of affection, could prove soul-destroying.
“So it wouldn’t matter to you that I don’t particularly like you? So long as we continued to sleep together.”
He contemplated her appraisal of their situation carefully, analysing all edges of the summation. Finally, he nodded.
Evie must have lost her mind because something about his proposition was making a crazy kind of sense. “Can I think about it?”
He rubbed a hand across his chin. “Yes. And while you do, I want to show you something.”
“What?”
“Patience, Jamila. You will see soon enough.”