Shehab watched stupefaction follow the parade of emotions spilling all over Farah’s face. It was as if he’d proposed she should fly. Under her own power.
Sure enough, she mumbled into his hand, “I don’t take vacations.”
He’d had reports of how she was always present at work. He’d thought her lover was keeping her on a short leash. But now it seemed it was she who’d never considered taking time off.
He removed his hand, stroked her cheek. “Never?”
She looked as if realization had just dawned on her. “Guess I never had anything to do with my free time, so I never wanted it.”
“Don’t you want it now? To be with me?” Her eyes blazed with such blatant admission that he groaned. “If you come with me, I’ll commute to and from the locations I need to be in and come back to you every available minute of each day.”
“You really want this, want me to go home with you, back to— to…” She stopped, almost panting. “Where do you live, anyway?”
“I live on an island off the coast of Damhoor.” He didn’t mention that the closest shores where those of Judar. He didn’t want to bring up the place he didn’t want her to associate him with. And he was counting on that ignorance she’d confessed. She hadn’t even bothered to look up her biological father’s kingdom on a map. If she had, she’d have learned that Zohayd wasn’t only Judar’s neighbor, but Damhoor’s, too. And she might have grown uncomfortable. As it was, the only agitation he felt from her was shock clashing with elation and indecision. He had to pulverize the latter, fast. He knew the best way to do that.
He let his eyes grow heavy with feigned pain. “You still don’t trust me, Farah?”
This provoked the response he’d been counting on. A vehement… “No. It’s just so sudden, so—so huge, so wonderful an offer, and on top of everything that happened tonight, I’m not just out of my depth, I’m up in the air…uh, in every way possible.”
He smiled down on her. This was working. He’d fulfill his prophecy, savoring her at leisure. He could almost taste it.
He took a taste of her now. “Say yes, Farah.”
She melted into him, offering her lips for him to consume, her every muscle and bone saying yes, yes, yes for her.
When he withdrew to let her make her consent verbal, she gasped, “But I still have to go back home…”
“No, you don’t, ya gummari.”
“But I need to change—this dress is fused to my skin, and— man, as if this is even worth mentioning. I need to pack the important stuff. All I have on me are my keys. Right now I’m no one, with no money or passport or even a toothbrush…”
He swallowed her babbling in another clinging kiss. “Is this a yes?”
She hissed the pleasure-laden word of capitulation into his mouth. “Yes.”
He took his fill for as long as he dared to, then pulled back, triumph roaring in his system. “Though I’ll be sorry to say goodbye to this dress, you can change out of it right now. I let my sister use the jet on her trips to and from the States—she’s doing her Master’s and spreading her wings—and she leaves clothes onboard.” He took another taste of those flushed lips as if compelled. “Let’s see, what’s left? A toothbrush. You’ll have a dozen to choose from in a minute. A new passport will be waiting for you when we arrive, as well as anything you can want or need. Then we can fly into Damhoor or Bidalya if you need to pick anything yourself.”
“But I don’t have money…oh, OK, now I know what tossed salad feels like. Can’t believe I worried about that.” So she remembered she’d be his guest, fully subsidized, of course. “It’ll take a couple of days to get new credit cards issued.” That was what she’d meant? She didn’t expect him to spend money on her? Suddenly her eyes rounded. “Scratch tossed salad. My brain’s milkshake. I’m bringing up credit cards and toothbrushes and not arranging for my absence at work!”
He withdrew, offered her his phone. “Then go ahead.”
She shook her head, sat up, looking around for her purse. He retrieved it for her before he sat down across from her again. She got out her own phone with unsteady fingers, pushed a speed-dial button.
In seconds she said, “Bill, it’s me. No, nothing’s wrong…” She paused as the rancorous grumbling of a bear with a sore paw rumbled on the other end. “Sorry for waking you up. 5:00 a.m.?” Her eyes shot up to him, wide with disbelief. “I—I didn’t realize it was that late.” Another pause. “Yeah, I left the ball early. You didn’t make it at all, huh? Listen, Bill, I’ll just say this and let you get back to sleep. I won’t be coming to work tomorrow— uh, make that today. No—I’m not ill. Since when do I take days off when I’m ill?” A longer pause. “Bill, I’m not taking a day off, I’m taking a vacation.”
She paused, waiting for Bill to say something. Seemed he was too stunned to respond. She went on. “It just came to me that it’s been seven years since I came to work for you, so we can call this a sabbatical, really. But don’t worry, everything’s in order, and I’m a phone call away if you need to ask me anything. I’ll also have an Internet connection…” She looked at him. He gave an “of course” gesture. “So just e-mail me with urgent stuff.”
A torrent exploded on the other end. She made the face of someone being forced to listen to a thousand nails scratching on a board. At last she interrupted. “I did give you every reason to believe I’m some sort of an android, but look up my contract and you’ll find out I do belong to the race with those pesky little side benefits called human rights. And of course there is the job description, which we both know I’ve gone far and above beyond.” She fell silent again, but Bill had been duly chastised and spoke now at a volume that didn’t carry beyond the phone’s receiver. “Yeah, it is overdue. Uh, I don’t know how long it’ll be…” She again looked at him. He shook his head, catching his lower lip on the sensuality of open-ended promise. It would be as long as it took to make her an Aal Masood bride. She smiled back, hunger glowing in her eyes before Bill drew her back to their conversation. She smiled again, affectionately this time. “And you take care of yourself.” She lowered her voice and averted her face, smiling as she murmured, “I’ll miss you, too.”
Shehab felt as if a stinging slap had landed on his cheek.
And every preconceived opinion of her crashed back on him, blasting away her spell, jogging him back to ugly reality.
Here she was, the woman who’d treated him to such a kaleidoscope of emotions for the past ten hours, sitting before him, her future lover, talking to her current one, lying to him, to them both, without batting a lid.
She slid shut her phone and looked at him, elation sizzling in her eyes, looking like a little girl who’d just done something naughty for the first time in her life.
He struggled to empty his gaze of aggression, to access the desire that was independent of his opinion of her. He felt it only becoming fiercer without the shackles of softness, the brakes of empathy, until he struggled not to rise and pounce on her. He had no idea how he only smiled, opened his arms wide.
She rose and rushed to throw herself into them, all fairy-tale gown, overpowering femininity and undetectable pretense. But one thing she wasn’t pretending about.
She couldn’t wait for him.
He’d make her wait. And when the time was right, he’d end the waiting. He’d sate himself with her. Then, when she’d served her purpose, even as they continued their sham of a marriage, he’d discard her. And he wouldn’t feel bad about it.
She deserved whatever he did to her.
Shehab was doing things to Farah