His words made me hurt for him. I squeezed tighter on his shoulder.
“This is the first time I feel like anyone has ever seen me,” said Rafiq. “Not only did you see me…you painted me; you immortalized me.” He turned to face me, his expression soft. “This is a great gift you’ve given me, Evie. I’m sorry I got upset with you.”
Overwhelmed, I averted my gaze, feeling Rafiq’s hand tighten over mine.
“It’s okay. I’m glad you like it.” I could feel myself blushing even as I tried to stop it.
“I love it,” he said. “Are you finished with it?”
I gave the painting a careful gaze. “Yeah, I hit the final stroke right before you woke up. Why do you ask?”
“Because I want to hang it up.”
“Right now?”
“Yes,” he said. “I want this in my home forever. You can charge me for it when you return to your gallery.”
At this, I let out a breathy laugh. “I think I feel fine about giving you this one gratis, Rafiq, since I did violate your privacy to get it and all.”
Rafiq gave me an amused, lopsided smile. He disappeared into the kitchen to find the tools he needed, and then returned to make his measurements for the painting. He decided to hang it on the blank expanse of wall between my temporary bedroom, and the studio.
Once he had the fixtures hung, Rafiq carefully lifted the canvas off the easel and attached it to the wall fixtures. I spotted him for him from across the living room as he tweaked the angle to get it level. When it was perfect, I came up next to him as he stood back to admire it.
“It’s beautiful,” he said. “I’m very happy that I’ll get to look at it every day.”
I smiled sheepishly and nodded, grateful, but unsure what to do in the face of all his compliments.
“Thank you, Evangeline. You’ve given me so much in the short time we’ve known each other.”
Without warning, Rafiq turned and wrapped his strong arms around me completely, drawing me into a warm embrace.
At first, I tensed up in surprise, but the inviting strength of his arms and chest quickly relaxed me, and I felt like I was melting against him as he held me close to his body. The fingers of one of his hands gently stroked at my hair. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to enjoy this moment, the feeling of being in the strong arms of a capable and attractive man, even if it was only a farce.
Deep in my heart, something very real was spreading and growing, even if I refused to look directly at it. Feeling Rafiq’s body against mine, and his arms around me, only made the feeling spread faster. I took a deep breath against his chest.
A high-pitched beeping erupted, breaking through the moment like a shrieking toddler in a library.
Rafiq sighed as he pulled away from the embrace. “Sorry. That’s my phone, I should answer it.”
“Sure,” I said, tucking my hair behind my ear. I was too flustered to look him in the eyes.
Rafiq pawed around the living room, tossing cans and pillows about until he found his ringing cell phone. One look at the screen, and his face fell into a serious mask. He answered the phone in his deep, stern business voice, and spoke briefly in Arabic with whoever was on the other end.
“What was that?” I asked, when he hung up.
“Trouble,” he said, running into his bedroom.
I froze. “Trouble? Why?”
Rafiq came back out, buttoning up a long-sleeve black shirt over his bare, beautiful chest.
“My father’s almost here.”
“Almost here, as in, almost at the penthouse?” I looked around at the chaotic, messy space. “But we aren’t ready for him!”
“Yes,” he said. “He’s early. He does this.”
“Oh, does he? That makes me feel better,” I said sarcastically as my nerves lit up with worry. “Where do you keep your garbage bags?”
“In the kitchen, bottom drawer next to the refrigerator,” said Rafiq as he took my hint and scrambled, bent at the waist, to pick up all the scattered trash from his party the night before. I rushed into the kitchen to retrieve a garbage sack, and together we quickly tossed everything into the bag. Rafiq stowed it in the kitchen pantry until we could better deal with it.
“Here, there’s one more important thing,” Rafiq said.
Shirt buttoned up, he came up to me quickly, rummaging in his pocket. He took my left hand in his, and gently pushed the most gorgeous, glittering diamond ring onto my ring finger.
It was the biggest rock I had ever seen, and all I could do was stare at it.
“What the hell is this?”
Rafiq took my hands in his and said, “Just play along.”