CHAPTER FIVE
Irene was unsurprised to see Raheem waiting for her when she got out of the shower. While she was under the hot spray, she couldn’t stop thinking about his hands and the way they had moved over her skin. He was a man who knew his place in the world, knew that everything in it was his to command. Some part of her, a part of her that she had never really acknowledged before, responded to his dominance, to the care he took with her and the utter decisiveness of his nature.
Would it be so bad to let go? Irene had wondered as she washed herself. Would it be so terrible to… to let him in, just for a night?
Another wiser part of herself said that something like that would never be just for a single night. Even if he never looked upon her again, what they did together would be branded on her skin, her heart, and her spirit for the rest of her life. Raheem was a man like the sheikhs out of legend. What he touched would be marked forever.
She had dried herself off slowly, thinking about how she should be wise, and how there was more than just her heart on the line. The problem was that no matter what she thought about, no matter what she considered, he was there in her mind: his smile, his hands, his sinful mouth. She wrapped the silk robe around her body, and she walked out into the bedroom.
The sun was going down, casting long shadows throughout the room. He looked like a man made of shadows, seated in the leather chair close to the hearth. He did not speak. Instead, he turned to look at her with a questioning expression. In that moment, Irene knew that it was, and forever would be, her choice. He would not force her. He would not coerce her. What she chose next would be because she wanted it, and for no other reason.
Irene took a deep breath, crossing the floor toward him. With each step, she wondered if she was as brave as she thought she was, if she really had the nerve to do what she wished.
Then she stood before him, and her time was up. He said nothing, only looked up at her. In his dark eyes, she could see the banked fires of his desire, calling for an answering fire within her own body.
“I want you,” Irene whispered, looking down at the ground.
She wasn’t sure what she had expected next, but it wasn’t his gentle hand, cupping her chin and making her look up.
“Louder,” was the only thing he said.
She gasped a little at his demand, but she tried again.
“I want you.”
“And I want to hear you. Louder again.”
“I want you!” she said, and this time, her voice broke a little as she said it. Her face felt flaming hot, and she thought she would die of humiliation. Her eyes flew up to meet his, but instead of looking cruel, there was compassion in his gaze, even a little humor.
“Good,” he purred. “Good brilliant girl, my sweet Irene.”
She was trembling with the force of voicing her desire, but he seemed to sense that she couldn’t do much more. With a touch that was as certain as the desert wind, he tugged at the knot that held her robe closed. Slowly, he pulled it free, reaching up to push the robe down her shoulders. It slipped to the floor like water, and now there was nothing protecting her from his dark gaze. He could see every bit of her, and she felt his eyes rake over her skin. When she reached up to cover herself, he pulled her hands back down.
“I have always known that you were beautiful,” he said, and he pulled her close.
She smiled a little nervously when he nuzzled her rounded belly, but that smile turned into a gasp when she felt his soft wet tongue lick a path from her navel down to the first wisp of hair that adorned her mound. Her hands landed on his shoulders, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to push him away or pull him in closer. Her skin was hot where his mouth touched her, cool where it had left.
Now he kissed his way up her body, leaning up to put his mouth on first one nipple, then the other. She had had men do this before, but she had never felt the sparks of bright sensation the way she felt them now. There was no hurry in his movements at all, no indication that he wanted to get to anything that he was not already doing. He kissed her body as if he had all the time in the world, and he was ready to spend it exploring her. She gasped when they both realized that the skin to the sides of her breasts was shockingly sensitive. Irene could feel Raheem smile as he nuzzled the flesh there, making her press even closer to him.
He rose to his feet in one fluid motion, and with another, he scooped her up. She would never get over being surprised by how powerful he was, how he could move her around as if she weighed nothing at all. He carried her to the bed, and then he lay her down as if she was something infinitely precious.
She watched, her eyes bright, as he removed his own clothes. With every piece of clothing that was removed, he showed off more of that muscular frame that she had felt before. He was as perfect as a marble statue, as strong as a god. When he came to lie with her on the bed, her breath caught as he started to kiss her, this time on the mouth.
When his lips first touched hers, all of her fears flew away. There was simply no room for fear in her mind when there was so much desire, so much need and pleasure. He was as patient and thorough with kissing her mouth as he was with anything else. When he finally pulled back, her mouth felt wet and swollen, tingling with desire, and all she wanted was more.
“Such a perfect girl,” he purred. “Let us see what you like best.”
He started kissing her again, but this time, his slid his hand down her body, over the curve of her breasts and her belly, and down to the sensitive flesh between her legs. When she first felt his hands brush over her upper thighs, she clamped them shut, but with a few gentle strokes, they fell open again for him.
“Everything that I am doing, I wish to do,” he growled. “You will not deny me unless I am going to hurt you. Is that understood?”
“Ye—yes…” she finally managed to stutter.
Her reward was another deep kiss, and when she gasped at the first touch of his blunt fingers over her slit, he drank it as if it was wine.
She had never felt so sensitized or so primed for pleasure. For several long moments, he stroked her plump flesh, playing gently with the hair there before sliding a gentle finger inside her. Her breath came a little faster when he did. There was a sensation of pressure, not pain; she had not had a lover for some time. She wondered if he could tell, but then he brought his fingers up to her clit and she lost the ability to worry about anything.
He stroked her clit with unerring accuracy, touching her in just the right way for her to start writhing with pleasure. It was so intense that she nearly pushed him away, but then he kissed her harder, making her groan with desire.
There was nothing Irene could do except take the vivid sensations he was giving her, take them and let them feed the fire that was racing through her. The sensations built up, one after the other, until she was moaning with need. She knew he was murmuring to her, soft encouragements, love words, but she couldn’t understand them, not while the blood was thundering in her ears and driving her to a climax the likes of which she had never imagined to be possible for herself before.
She couldn’t stop herself from spilling over if she tried. Once the pleasure began to build up, it was unstoppable, racing through her like a wildfire. She screamed, covering her face with her hands as her body shook its way to completion. Her climax left her shaking and spent. When her hands finally fell away from her face, she was left staring up at the ceiling wide-eyed, her breathing coming hard and fast.
Irene moaned a little as Raheem shifted over her to kiss her again. She responded as much as she could, but there was a heaviness to her body, as if her bones had been turned to lead.
“You are so beautiful spent with pleasure,” he whispered. “I could keep you like this all night, this weary, this complete…”
Somehow, she found the wit to respond, reaching up to twine her fingers through his dark hair.
“No… no, I want you…”
“Oh?” he asked, his voice slightly teasing, but she was utterly serious.
“I… I said I wanted you. I meant that. Please…”
The banked fires in his eyes sprang up to a full bonfire, and now she could see how much he had been setting his own desire aside. Something about being wanted so much lit her own fire again, and she reached up to bring him down for a kiss.
There was something different about this kiss. There was hunger there, and there was a deep and abiding need for her that had never gone away. Now she could feel him press his erection against her, and she knew that he would give her what she wanted.
Irene squeaked with surprise when he rolled her over on top of him. She had never felt smaller than when she was sprawled across his muscular frame, trying to get her balance. She ended up with her legs draped on either side of his thighs, and when she felt his hard cock pressed between her legs, she moaned.
When he took her hips in his hands, she whimpered, but every part of her wanted this, wanted this kind of intimacy with him. She lifted herself up as he indicated, and then with a soft cry, she slid down on his body.
For a moment, they were utterly still together, him filling her, her encasing him as if they were made for each other. Then with a sound that was half groan, half growl, he began to lift her, arching his hips so that he could push even deeper into her body.
When she leaned forward to brace her hands on his chest, she could help him with the rise and lift, groaning as he filled her to the hilt with every stroke. When she looked down at him, she was shocked to see that his eyes were wide open and that he was watching her, an expression of intense need and possession on his face.
“I want you,” she said again, and with a growl, his motions became rougher, faster. She clung to him as he pushed up into her, her own pleasure at his motions wrapping her up and carrying her upward.
When he cried out, lunging into her with one last shout, she dug her nails into his chest, somehow feeling the intensity of the orgasm that flooded him. She could feel the liquid heat of him spill inside her, and she sobbed with completion.
When Raheem was finally still, she collapsed down on his chest, his arms wrapping around her and holding her close. She had never felt anything quite this intimate before, never shared the kind of pleasure she had felt with someone like this. He was still inside her, though softening now, and the pleasure buzzed through her body.
Raheem was the one who moved first, shifting her gently to the side and pulling away with care. She made a noise of protest that elicited a soft chuckle from him.
“Don’t worry, I am not going far,” he said, reaching to bring her against him again. They lay together as their hearts slowed, the sweat drying on their bodies. Irene was almost asleep when Raheem spoke.
“Are you all right?” he asked softly.
“I am,” she said. “I feel… good. Calm.”
He chuckled a little, hugging her a little tighter. She wondered if she would ever get tired of being in this man’s arms.
“Good. I wanted to make sure that you did not have any regrets. That happened quickly…”
She shook her head.
“No, no regrets, only perhaps that we had to take such a strange route to get here.”
The silence that fell between them this time was heavier. Irene had been floating after their intimacy, but now she remembered why they were at this oasis, what she had done, and what was at stake.
With a guilty pang, she realized that she had not thought of Peter once in the last few days. She didn’t know if the people who held him had let them go as promised, or if they had only been infuriated at her failure. She hung on to seeing his curl of hair at prison. It showed her that they were not going to kill him, that he was still alive.
“Irene?”
“Yes?”
“Tell me about Peter.”
His words followed so closely on the heels of her thoughts that she gasped. She twisted in his arms to look up at him, her eyes wide and wild.
“Why are you asking me about Peter?” she asked. She was painfully aware that her intense reaction had likely told him more than she wanted him to know, but she couldn’t help herself.
“You mentioned him last night,” Raheem said, stroking her hair soothingly. “You sounded like the two of you shared a great deal.”
She took a deep breath, telling herself that it was only a coincidence. Raheem wanted to know more about her, and there was nothing wrong with that. If she spoke about Peter, perhaps it would calm her a little more, help her be at peace with the situation in which she found herself.
“Peter was always a little clumsy,” she said softly. “Even from the time when we were kids. He was always getting into trouble, and my parents sort of put me in charge of him. Even if we were twins, I always felt more like his big sister. I protected him at school, and I made sure that I could talk with his teachers to get him what he needed.”
Raheem frowned, running his hand along her back as she talked.
“Where were your parents in all this?” he asked. “It sounds like that should have been their job…”
She shrugged. She was philosophical about it at this point, but there was certainly a point when she wouldn’t have been.
“They’re really not in the picture anymore,” she said. “They weren’t really… present, I guess you could say. They were more than happy to let me take on Peter. Not that he was a burden!”
She added the last part in a rush because suddenly she realized what it might have sounded like.
“He’s a great person, just one who might need a little more help here and there. I was all he had.”
Raheem didn’t say anything, and for some reason, that made her even more protective.
“It sounds bad, but it wasn’t as if I gave up my life for Peter or anything,” she continued. “We were just very close. He was my brother, and for most of our childhoods, we were all we had. When I came to Khanour for school, he followed me here…”
She froze suddenly, aware of what she had just said. To her relief, however, Raheem didn’t seem to notice. He continued to stroke her back soothingly.
“He sounds devoted to you,” Raheem said, and she nodded in relief.
“He really is. I’m the one he always turns to. He’s stood up for me, protected me when he could.”
“Does he make you feel safe?”
She shrugged.
“Not really? He’s a little dramatic at times, and I’ll be honest, sometimes, he’s a bit troubled.”
“I can see that. When you are the protector, it can be hard to let down your guard.”
She pressed her lips together, unsure of what she should say to that. What he was saying was right, entirely right. However, it felt like a betrayal of her brother to admit it.
“I don’t think I’m explaining correctly,” Irene mumbled, and Raheem chuckled.
“I am an only child, but I have cousins, and I grew up surrounded by a large extended family,” he said. “I understand very well what it is to want to protect someone even when you can’t, and I know how hard it is to lay that burden aside.”
“Do you ever?” she asked, looking at him curiously. “You are a man who seems to live to command, but surely that is not all it is.”
Now it was Raheem’s turn to look surprised. She wondered if anyone had ever asked him that before.
“I enjoy being in control,” he said finally. “I want to make sure that things are done right, and in many cases, that is certainly its own reward. I have all the money that I could ever need, and I have many services that will care for my needs…”
“That’s not what I asked,” she said gently. “What I wanted to know is if you have ever wanted anyone to care for you.”
For a moment, Irene thought that Raheem was simply going to ignore her question. She could understand. The need to be cared for was one of overwhelming vulnerability. She could understand where a man as powerful as Raheem might turn away from it. However, she suspected that a man as powerful as Raheem was exactly the one who might need it.
He opened his mouth, a tentative look on his face, and then his phone chimed. He looked so relieved that Irene giggled a little.
“Saved by the bell,” she teased. “Go ahead and get it, but be aware that I have a very good memory.”
He growled a little, tugging her hair playfully before rising to get the phone. She watched him walk away, startled again by the sheer masculine beauty that he embodied. There was a careless ease and grace to his nudity, as if this was his natural state more than any other. He was no more embarrassed or ashamed of his body than a leopard would be ashamed of its spots.
She sat up in bed, watching him as he took the call. He was speaking too low for her to hear him, but she could tell that there was something urgent in the way he spoke, something tense about the way he stood.
When he hung up the phone, he stood still for a moment, simply staring off into space, and Irene started to get worried.
“Raheem?”
He turned to her and returned to the bed, but there was something distant about him now. From going to a safe and warm place where they had been so close to this was like being doused with cold water. Suddenly, Irene was aware in a way that she hadn’t been before that she was naked. She pulled the blanket up over her breasts.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, her voice breaking.
He seemed reluctant to look at her at first, but when he did, there was a resolve in his eyes that made her bite her lip. What could have happened?
“Irene, what did Peter do in Khanour?”
She felt her heart stop. Her eyes went wide, and she knew that just as it had been throughout their lives, Peter’s proxy guilt was written all over her face.
“Why does it matter?” she asked, her mouth dry.
“When we were talking last night, something about the way that you spoke about Peter caught my attention,” he said. Even as he spoke, there was something reluctant about it.
“Stop,” she said, somehow irrationally certain that what he said next would ruin everything they had built between them. She was aware in the back of her mind that somehow she had become just as afraid of losing what she and Raheem had between them as she was of hurting Peter, but that could wait for another time.
“We… we don’t have to talk about this, do we?” Irene asked, aware of how plaintive she sounded. “Can’t we talk about this later?”
Raheem shook his head. When he reached out to touch her, she pulled back, shaking. She felt suddenly cold, and she wrapped her arms around herself, trying desperately to find some kind of warmth.
“I’m afraid we can’t,” he said. His voice was still gentle, but there was iron in it.
“I asked some of my staff to look into your brother,” he said, “and that was one of them getting back to me. It turns out that in less than twenty-four hours, he has found out a great deal, and a lot of it might be relevant to you and what has happened. He says that your brother had gambling debts in the United States, ones that you were often held liable for. Is that true?”
Irene felt her mouth go dry. She knew that her heart was beating faster, and she couldn’t quite bring herself to look at Raheem. This was what it was like to lose everything. This was what it meant when she had finally betrayed the person who had always trusted her to protect him.
She couldn’t answer Raheem. She could only look at him with large and frightened eyes. He looked sorry beyond words that this was what had to happen between them, but he was resolute. This was something that needed to happen, and he wasn’t willing to stop.
“You cannot go silent on me,” he said quietly. “This is information that I need, but I will find it out sooner or later. This is not something that I can forgive. It will go far better with you if you are willing to simply tell me what I need to know.”
She couldn’t speak. She wouldn’t. Here she was again, but now the difference was that her interrogator was the man who made her feel like no other.
“I want to help you,” he said, and there was a slight tremor to his voice. “Damn you, Irene, why won’t you let me help you?”
She couldn’t take it any longer. She stood up, heedless of her nudity. When she tried to walk away, she found that her wrist was clamped in a grip that was as solid as steel.
“Don’t walk away from me,” he said with an edge to his voice.
She felt as if her legs had been cut out from under her. With a soft hopeless sound, she dropped onto the bed like an obedient puppet. For a moment, it looked like Raheem was going to continue, but then he took a closer look at her, sorrow entering his gaze.
“You’re terrified, aren’t you?” Though the words could have been aggressive, even threatening, there was regret there, a compassion she had never seen in him before. She knew better than to let herself hope, however. She knew that he was relentless when it came to this matter. For his country, Raheem could be nothing less. At the end of the day, she was his enemy, and somehow, they had both forgotten it.
She nodded, lowering her eyes. Silence was her best refuge. It was her brother’s best chance for survival. The men who had captured him were heartless, terrifyingly powerful and subversive. She had lost her head, and now he was in more danger than ever. She should never have spoken up. She should never have slept with a man who could never understand the fact that she had to protect the only family that she had left.
Irene couldn’t stop her tears from spilling over. She tried to hide her face, but Raheem cupped her chin in his hand, making her look up.
“Sweetheart… please…”
Finally, he shook his head.
“Lie down, then. There is nothing more to be said about this tonight. Rest.”
She didn’t want to lie down and sleep. She knew that if she was going to be wise about this, she should have refused. She should have gone to sleep on the couch, or even slept in the oasis forest if she had to. Instead, all Irene could think about was how good Raheem felt, how much she wanted to be close with him.
Irene took a deep breath. She couldn’t think of what tomorrow would bring. Instead, she allowed Raheem to lay her down on the bed next to him. For perhaps just a little longer, she could pretend that everything was fine.
***
Raheem stayed awake long after Irene fell asleep. Every time she stirred, every time she whimpered in her sleep, he felt his heart wrench. After listening to her talk for even a short while, he could sense how lonely her childhood had been, how often she had had to take over the role of a parent. Everyone deserved more than that, and someone as sweet and kind as Irene doubly so.
For what felt like the hundredth time, he wondered if there was any way he could let her go. If there were any exceptions that he could make, any excuse he could find. No matter how many times he had turned it over, he could find no way out.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, touching her hair gently. Raheem wished he could say it while she was awake, but he knew that it would not help anything. After the passionate night they had spent together, it felt as if they had crossed some kind of river. There was no going back to the comfort that they had shared earlier. They could only move forward.
Raheem only prayed that if they moved forward, they would move forward together. Even after being together for such a short amount of time, he knew that Irene gave him something that he needed, something he had never felt before.
“Please, please talk to me,” he murmured, but she only murmured in her sleep, pressing closer to him. He wondered why she slept so trustingly next to him, but why she couldn’t seem to trust him in the strong light of day.
Raheem rolled over to stare up at the ceiling, and when he moved, she followed him, pressing her face into his chest. There was already something so familiar about it that he couldn’t stand to think of a time when she might be gone.
As he began his sleepless vigil, he knew that he couldn’t be the one to break. Not if he still wanted to be the man his country needed him to be. He only hoped that Irene could see that.
That she would see that what they had together was far too special to be lost.