He turned away from the bed. ‘We should sit down for takeoff,’ he said. ‘But once we’re in the air, you can move around as you like. I’m sure there’s plenty you’d still like to see, Sam.’
‘This really is amazing,’ Gracie murmured. ‘Thank you.’
‘It is my pleasure.’
They took their seats in the main cabin of the plane. Sam sat by the window, his nose pressed to the glass as he scoured the airfield, eager for the next phase of this adventure to begin.
‘He’s never been on an airplane before,’ Gracie explained with a small smile. ‘He’s been bouncing around all day, wild with excitement.’
‘There will be many firsts on this trip,’ Malik answered. ‘I hope he enjoys them all with the same vigour.’
‘I’m sure he will.’ Gracie looked away, giving him the opportunity to study her. She was as beautiful and as vibrant as ever, even though she looked a little strained. The curve of her cheek, the sweep of her hair all felt familiar to him, and his palms itched with the memory of how they had once traced those curves and dips, learned them by heart.
He knew he had to stop letting those sweet memories affect him so much. Their power was a danger to him, and always had been. He could not allow himself to be torn in two by the needs of his country and the wants of his body. Duty and desire. Desire could perhaps be gratified, but duty always had to win.
‘We’re taking off!’ Sam exclaimed, and Gracie gave Malik a wry look that he returned, a smile tipping the corners of her mouth and buoying his heart. He’d forgotten how much Gracie made him smile, how she lightened him. She looked away quickly, and he knew she was as unsettled as he was by the spark that still existed between them, the bonds of remembrance stronger than either of them had anticipated. The past called to them both, a siren song Malik would make the most of.
He leaned forward, touching her knee lightly, noting and enjoying the way her body tensed beneath his hand. ‘He is a wonderful boy.’
Startled, she jerked back to look at him, her lips slightly parted, her eyes wide. ‘You can say that, after just a few minutes?’
‘Yes.’ He spoke solemnly, firmly and with utter conviction. She gave a short, breathy laugh.
‘Well, thank you, I guess. I don’t know how much of that is up to me.’ His hand was still on her knee, and he was loath to remove it. The warmth of her skin burned into his palm, his soul. He felt more alive now than he had in years.
Gracie glanced at Sam, who still had his nose pressed to the window, his hair flopping over his eyes. He pushed it back with an impatient hand.
‘He could fall in love with you,’ she said in a low voice. ‘With all of this.’ Her gaze was downcast, her lashes sweeping her cheeks. ‘When you tell him...I know he’ll be thrilled. It’s like a fairy tale come true, isn’t it? Your missing father turns out to be a king.’ Her voice trembled and so did her lips. She pressed them together. ‘Don’t break his heart, Malik, please.’
Malik felt as if his own heart had just suffered a serious knock. He didn’t deserve even the possibility of his son’s unstinting, easy affection. He didn’t know what to do with love. ‘I won’t,’ he said, his voice a rasp, even as he acknowledged to himself this was a promise he had no idea if he could keep.
Gracie shifted her legs and he let his hand fall away. ‘You’d better not,’ she whispered, and blinked back tears.
* * *
Malik sat back in his seat and Gracie kept her face averted, trying desperately to hold on to her composure. She’d known this would be difficult, but she hadn’t expected to feel so raw. So vulnerable, and in so many ways. Seeing Sam with Malik even so briefly had opened up a need inside her that she hadn’t let herself ever acknowledge. A need for Sam to have a father, for her to have an ally. A partner.
And you actually think that’s Malik?
The prospect was so ludicrous she would have laughed. All they’d had was a one-night stand. Yes, she’d seen glimpses of the old Malik, the fake Malik, or so she’d thought, today. When he stopped being so stern and autocratic, he could be gentle and funny and kind.
No. She couldn’t think like that. She was here for two weeks, and after that they’d come to some sort of custody arrangement. Gracie hadn’t dared to think that far ahead, but now she forced herself to envision it. Perhaps Sam would spend summers with Malik, the occasional Christmas. It would hurt, to lose her son during those times, but she could come to accept it. She recognised Sam needed a father, even if it was only a part-time one. But there would be nothing between her and Malik.
Yet even now she could feel the remembered warmth of Malik’s hand on her knee, the sureness of that light touch. It made her want to lean into the caress, ask for more. She really needed to get a grip.
‘I think I’ll have a walk around the plane,’ she said, and rose from her seat. She needed to get away from Malik. Away from her own circling, spiralling thoughts.
She strolled down the length of the plane, conscious of the stewards who deliberately didn’t look at her, their faces smooth and blank. The security guards she’d seen by the door had made themselves scarce, but she was still aware of their presence on the plane. This was a whole new world she was entering, and she didn’t know whether to be awed or afraid.
Eventually she ended up in the main bedroom in the back of the plane. The flight to Alazar was eighteen hours long, so she supposed they would all sleep at some point, even if she now felt too wired to so much as sit still. She pictured stretching out on that huge bed, and then before she could stop herself she pictured Malik next to her. She remembered how sinewy and powerful his body had been, muscles rippling, skin like bronzed satin under her questing hands, candlelight flickering over their naked bodies...
Stop it. You can’t afford to think that way.
‘Grace?’ Malik appeared in the doorway of the bedroom, startling her out of her dangerous thoughts. He took a step inside and closed the door behind him, cocooning them both in the quiet luxury of the room. Gracie’s gaze dropped to his powerful chest, the muscles of his arms and torso rippling under the expensive starched cotton of his shirt. A faint frown marred his sculpted features. ‘Are you all right?’
Gracie tried to banish the images that were still running through her mind in a traitorous, sensual reel. ‘Where’s Sam?’ she asked, her voice sounding strained.
‘He’s playing a video game in the media room.’
‘Oh. Great.’ She rubbed her hands over her face, fighting the sudden, stupid urge to burst into tears. She was all over the place, wanting one second, fearing the next, feeling too much.
‘You seem disturbed,’ Malik remarked, and Gracie straightened.
‘No, I’m fine.’ She would be. She had to get control of all these wayward feelings and wants. ‘A bit overwhelmed, maybe.’ Gracie tried for a laugh. ‘This is the most luxurious bedroom I’ve ever been in. It’s hard to believe it’s on a plane. That bed is huge.’
‘The bed is quite spacious.’ Malik’s voice was soft and he leaned against the door, his gaze turning hooded and sleepy. Why did she keep mentioning beds? ‘But I remember another bed, a bed that was just as big, a room that was just as luxurious.’ His gaze locked on hers and Gracie’s breath bottled in her lungs.
‘That was a long time ago, Malik.’ Her voice sounded shaky to her own ears.
‘It was, and yet right now it feels like it was yesterday. All day long I have been remembering, Grace. How you felt. How you tasted. How you responded to my touch.’ He took a step