A now-familiar peal of laughter tugged Zaiman from a dream, and he lay in his bed smiling sleepily at the ceiling. It had only taken Alex a few days to fully integrate herself into the household, and Amia seemed to be absolutely smitten with her new nanny.

She wasn’t the only one, if Zaiman were being honest with himself. He found Alex to be an absolute delight, and had been finding it more and more difficult to avoid hovering in the shadows, watching her play with his daughter. She was so vibrant, so full of life and joy and humor—so different from the other nannies he had employed.

As he lay in bed, reluctant to move from his cocoon, his mind wandered into forbidden territory and he indulged the fantasy. He knew her laughter, he knew her voice as she spoke; his mind played with them, wondering what other sweet sounds could sing from her throat with the proper encouragement. In his mind’s eye, he danced with her under the moonlight, sliding over the dunes on wings of magic.

His reverie was interrupted by his alarm clock, and he couldn’t put off getting out of bed any longer. He took his time, deliberately marching through every step of his routine, spending an extra few minutes styling his thick, glossy curls. He had seen Alex’s gaze linger there once or twice, and he felt compelled to draw more of her attention.

“Stupid,” he muttered to himself as he swept a brush through his hair. “Acting like a sweaty-palmed schoolboy.”

He grinned at himself. That was how he felt, after all—like a child experiencing his first infatuation, like a teenager with a crush. Something he thought had died in him had been reborn under the warmth of her vibrant light, unfurling into something gloriously real. It couldn’t go anywhere—he knew that—but it didn’t stop him from making sure that she would like what she saw when she looked at him.

Fresh and dressed, Zaiman crept through the hallway and into Amia’s sitting room. Peeking through the doorway, he watched as she and Alex played.

“Okay, we have fifteen minutes until we have to go down to breakfast, and we have made a terrible mess,” Alex laughed, looking around the room at the scattered toys.

There were fewer of them now than there had been before, but the ones that were left seemed to be getting more use. He had asked Bassam to donate the rest of them anonymously, as it would cause a stir if he were to do such a thing himself.

“You mean a terrific mess!” Amia giggled, flinging her arms wide.

“A glorious mess!” Alex said, mimicking her gesture.

“A magnificent mess!”

“That’s a big word! Where did you pick that up?”

“From the Pony Princess,” Amia said matter-of-factly. “She lives in the Magnificent Majestic Manor.”

“Ah, I see! Better vocabulary through movies, I can get behind that. Tell me, how would the Pony Princess handle this mess?” Alex tapped a finger to her lips with an exaggerated furrow of her brow.

“She would spin!” Amia said, demonstrating. “And magically put everything back where it goes.”

“That’s an amazing idea! Let’s try it.”

Alex propped herself up on her knees, picked up two dolls, and began to spin. Amia giggled and followed her example, twirling through the room on her tiptoes. Like whirling dervishes, they whipped through the room, until they both collapsed, dizzy and breathless, on Amia’s giant stuffed elephant.

“Maybe it works better in the movies,” Alex gasped through her laughter.

“Maybe it only works for magic ponies,” Amia said, wrinkling her little nose.

“I think you might be right. But I’ll tell you what: I’ll race you! I’ll take this side, you take that side, and whoever finishes first wins!”

“I never lose races,” Amia said with a grin.

“Never say never,” Alex teased. “Ready, set, go!”

Zaiman chuckled as he watched them zoom around the room. Alex moved quickly but inefficiently, putting pressure on Amia’s natural competitive nature without taking advantage of her age and size. She timed it perfectly so that they were finished at the same time—all except for one teddy bear smack dab in the center of the room.

They saw the bear at the same time. They locked eyes, and as if by some unspoken command, they rushed for the bear at the same time, Amia’s little hand reaching it just as Alex’s did. Amia snatched the bear away with a triumphant “Ha-ha!”

“You beat me!” Alex said in almost-convincing surprise. “I’m going to have to go faster next time.”

“You need rocket boots to beat me,” Amia said with a grin.

“You’re absolutely right. Where would I find rocket boots in my size?”

“Um…from a cartoon store?”

“Good thinking!”

They were walking toward him, but hadn’t seen him yet. Not wanting to make them feel spied on (though he admitted to himself that he was doing exactly that), Zaiman strode into the playroom.

“Good morning, ladies!”

“Papa! I won the race!” Amia exclaimed triumphantly. She jumped into his arms and he squeezed her, inhaling the sweet scent of peaches emanating from her hair.

“Good job! You hungry?”

“Starving,” Amia said, clutching her little belly dramatically.

“Come on, then, I’ll race you to the dining room.”

“You’ll never catch me!”

Amia took off like a shot, and Zaiman followed at a more reasonable pace.

“You know she’ll notice that you aren’t even trying,” Alex said, her green eyes twinkling like the sea.

“Someday,” Zaiman admitted with a smile. “But until then, she will feel like the fastest child in the whole world.”

Alex laughed, and the musical sound echoed in the stairway. He caught himself wishing he could hear her laugh always, and quickly stifled the thought. It would do him no favors to get caught up with an American woman; a reality he was intimately and painfully aware of.

As they sat down to eat, Amia tossed her black curls haughtily. “You didn’t even run, Papa!”

“I’m sorry, darling,” he said, pasting a cringe on his face and holding a hand to his hip. “Bad back this morning. Your dad’s getting old.”

She giggled and shook her head. “You aren’t old, Papa! Bassam is old.”

“Oh!” Alex gasped in mock terror. “Oh, don’t say that so loud—he’ll hear you!”

“Not to worry,” Bassam chuckled in his deep bass as he strode into the room. “These old ears can’t hear a thing.” He winked at Amia, who threw back her head and laughed.

The four of them settled into a pleasant morning conversation. Zaiman was preoccupied; he had government affairs to attend to that afternoon, a meeting with his mother, negotiations with a governor, Alex’s alabaster skin glowing in the morning light like a—no, no, that wouldn’t do.

He shook himself and returned his attention to the conversation.

“After your lessons today,” Alex was promising.

“Why not now?” Amia pouted, flashing big, sad eyes at Alex.

“Because you can’t learn to write if you’re dripping all over the page,” Alex said matter-of-factly. “You’ll smear your ink. Tell you what, I’ll meet you wherever you are at two o’clock on the dot, and I’ll bring your suit, and we’ll go swimming right away. How about that?”

“Okay,” Amia sighed. “But tomorrow, swimming first!”

“Only if you get up super early and go before breakfast,” Alex bargained.

Amia frowned thoughtfully. “That’s too early,” she said. “I like sleeping.”

“Me, too,” Alex told her with a grin. “So, maybe we should just make swimming an afternoon activity. What do you say?”

Amia shook her head. “There’s a way,” she said stubbornly. “There’s always a way.”

“Quoting super heroes at me again?” Alex teased.

Amia shoved her little fists on her hips and struck a heroic pose. “I am Amia-girl! Swimmer of pools and player of dolls!”

“Better be eater of breakfast,” Alex said pointedly, gesturing at Amia’s full plate with her spoon. “Can’t learn on an empty stomach.”

“Can’t learn on a full stomach,” Amia said with a frown. “Letters are hard.”

“You aren’t going to let those dastardly letters best you, are you?! Not Amia-girl, conqueror of all!”

Amia laughed and ate her breakfast. Zaiman caught himself smiling like an idiot, enthralled with Alex’s easy redirection and vibrant humor. She was perfect for Amia, and he mentally congratulated himself for his good fortune in stumbling across such a magnificent nanny. Not to mention, such a beautiful one.

After breakfast, when Amia was off with her tutor, Zaiman invited Alex to take a stroll through the gardens with him.

“There are so many things that I still haven’t seen here,” Alex said, her eyes lighting up. “This palace seems to go on forever. Amia tells me that it’s terribly dull, but I find that hard to believe.”

“She does require a great deal of stimulation,” Zaiman admitted with a chuckle. “Her tutor tells me it’s a sign of intelligence, and I’m happy to believe him for the moment.”

“I would say so,” Alex agreed. She paused for a moment, taking in the burst of colorful flowers they were strolling past. “I think she would be less of a handful if she spent more time with her friends. Maybe we could arrange a playdate for this weekend?”

Zaiman’s heart beat anxiously, and his stomach rolled over. Swallowing hard, he arranged a benign smile on his face.

“Perhaps some other time,” he said vaguely. “You seemed excited about the aviary; has Amia shown it to you yet?”

“No, not yet,” Alex said eagerly. “Would you take me?”

“It would be my pleasure,” Zaiman said, offering his elbow.

He was relieved that she was as easily redirected as his daughter, but the relief passed quickly. He caught her curious glances out of the corner of his eye, but pretended not to notice. There were some secrets best left untold for as long as possible.

The aviary was an enclosed acre just beyond the flower gardens, and it looked more like a greenhouse from the outside. Green-tinted glass protected the trees and birds inside from the punishing sun and furious storms, and made for a cool, humid environment for any humans who visited.

“Oh! It’s like a magic forest in here,” Alex exclaimed as he brought her inside.

“My mother has a way of designing magic out of thin air,” Zaiman said proudly. “She built this place just before I was born, for my father. He had a passion for parrots at the time, but they had a terrible effect on her nerves when she was pregnant.”

He chuckled to himself, earning a curious glance from Alex.

“My parents lived here, then, and he used to keep the parrots in the house. This was a problem.”

“Why?”

“Well…my mother has a frightening temper as it is, but when she was carrying me, I’m told, it was absolutely vicious. One of the parrots had developed a passion for elephants. He enjoyed feeding them peanuts.”

“I had no idea birds would do that,” Alex said, delighted.

“Oh, yes. My father was certain that this bird saw the elephants as his own personal pets.” Zaiman paused to stroke the breast of a friendly love bird.

“My father kept the birds in a very unfortunate place, a little alcove between their bedroom and the dining room. This one bird would repeat the same phrase over and over again, and finally, my mother snapped.”

“What did she do?” Alex asked, eyes wide with anticipation.

“She tried to shoot it,” Zaiman said with an uncomfortable little laugh. “It flew away out a window and was lost. She felt terrible about it.”

“I would hope so,” Alex said, shocked. “She shot at a parrot? What on earth did it say to deserve that?!”

Zaiman’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “I told you he liked to feed the elephants, right?”

“Yes?”

“His favorite phrase was, ‘Eat more, elephant.’ And…unfortunately…he had a tendency to say it whenever he saw my mother.”

“Oh my gosh!” Alex clapped her hands over her mouth, then threw back her head and laughed. “I can’t imagine what my sister would have done to that poor bird. It wouldn’t have had a chance to fly away. They would have eaten parrot pie for dinner.”

Zaiman laughed, then realized that this was the first time he had heard about a sister. Granted, he hadn’t asked about her family, but it was still a bit of a shock to his system to become cognizant of the fact that she did not exist in a vacuum.

“So, this place was an apology,” Alex concluded.

“An apology and a compromise,” Zaiman confirmed. “Her first wish was to get rid of all of the birds completely, but she couldn’t bear to break my father’s heart that way.”

“She sounds like the kind of woman I would like to know,” Alex said.

“In spite of her violence against parrots?” Zaiman asked playfully, raising a brow.

“Almost because of it,” Alex laughed. “I get along with people a lot better if they have some kind of fatal flaw. Lord knows I have plenty, and my family isn’t exactly perfect.”

“I would like to hear about your family,” he said as they walked through the tangled trees.

“Sure! They’re fun. I’m the middle child, and the black sheep in a way, though nobody really treats me that way. I think I shock them more than anything. My dad thinks it’s funny.”

“Your father doesn’t worry about you traveling all over the globe, working for strangers?” Zaiman asked in disbelief, feeling stupid for just now recognizing that she was somebody’s daughter. He could only imagine what he would feel if Amia started doing what Alex did.

“He did at first, for a minute. Then, I reminded him that he had paid for twelve years of martial arts and self-defense classes, that I could speak three languages and could easily learn more, and that I was fully capable of making his life an absolute hell if he tried to make me stay.”

She laughed, and Zaiman joined her.

“Quite a compelling argument,” he admitted.

“Dad thought so. Mom took solace in the idea that my wild adventures would put me in line with some very rich, very eligible men. She was hoping that I would be safely married off within my first year abroad.” Alex shook her head, amused. “She has no idea just how much I value my freedom.”

“So, you will never marry?” Zaiman asked, attempting to smother his disappointment before it could fully form.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Alex said, turning her glittering, laughing eyes up at him. “I would just need to marry somebody who was completely content with traveling the world frequently, Or at least consistently. If I was happy in my vocation and relationship, I imagine that I could stay put for a year or so before the call of adventure seduced me out again.”

“That doesn’t sound like too much to ask for,” he said, thinking thoughts which were best left unthought. His attempts at shutting down this quiet fantasy were futile, and he soon gave up.

“So, you have a sister?”

“Oh! I got sidetracked. Yes, my sister is three years older than me. She’s married to a guy called Charlie, who she dated in middle school and then hated until college, where she fell in love with him again. They got married and had four kids, who I love dearly.”

“Four! Already?”

“They keep busy,” Alex said with a wicked little grin. “The kids are all really young still. Miah, the oldest son, is four. Bezzie, their daughter, is two and a half, and their twin boys, July and August, are turning one in about a month.”

“July and August? They named them after months?”

“They named them after their birth months,” Alex told him with a twinkle in her eye.

“But they’re twins?”

“Exactly, which was why she felt this particular quirk deserved to be immortalized in their names. July was born at eleven fifty-eight at night on July thirty-first. August was born five minutes past midnight on August first.”

Zaiman chuckled. “That is worthy of immortalization,” he agreed.

“That’s what I thought. My brother Kyle was less enthused, but then, he wanted to name them Mario and Luigi.”

Zaiman gave her a horrified look, and she nodded ruefully.

“He beta-tests video games for a living,” she said. “He’s not exactly the most mature kid in the world. But, I guess, when you’re twenty-two, you don’t really have to be.”

“Yes,” Zaiman said with a little cough. “Twenty-two-year-olds are notoriously irresponsible.”

His mind drifted into uncomfortable territory, and he ripped it back to something more pleasant.

“That scarlet macaw seems to like you,” he said gesturing to the bird.

“Well, look at that,” she said as the bird approached her. “Looks like I get to make another new friend today.”

Watching Alex talk to the bird soothed Zaiman’s agitated soul. She seemed to be the inadvertent burr and unknowing salve on his spirit, both at once, splitting old wounds open only to make them feel better.

She had no idea. He was in danger of growing accustomed to it.