SIXTEEN
Morning came, soft and slow, sunlight creeping across Rafiq’s room like a lazy ocean tide. Nestled against his warm skin, everything felt like a dream. His chest rose and fell in a deep rhythm under my hand. I didn’t want to open my eyes, fearing it would all evaporate once I did.
The night had been incredible, and passionate—more passionate than any lovemaking I had ever experienced. The feel of Rafiq’s gentle hands and hungry, aching kisses still lingered on my skin. I wanted to forget the entire world existed and simply lay here in his arms forever, nestled in his warm love.
The shrill ringing of a cell phone erupted in the morning quiet, mercilessly reminding me that the world wasn’t going to be ignored, not today or any day.
Rafiq inhaled deeply as he rose up into consciousness, dragged from sleep by the sound of his phone. Immediately, the arm wrapped around my shoulder pulled me closer into his body, and instead of turning for the phone, he bent his head and pressed his lips against my hair with a soft kiss.
I smiled against his skin and kissed his shoulder. “You should probably get that,” I murmured.
With a reluctant growl, Rafiq obliged and reached one arm out to paw around on the nightstand for his smartphone. As soon as he looked at the screen, his muscles tensed up beneath me.
“Oh, shit,” he said. “My father, I completely forgot.”
“What?” I said, sitting up to look at him.
He didn’t reply. Instead, he swiped a finger across the screen and answered the incoming call. I waited with baited breath while he spoke in quiet Arabic to his father for about ten seconds, and then hung up, tossing the phone back on the nightstand.
“Mehmet’s coming to visit today before he returns home. Sorry, I completely forgot to tell you, what with all the excitement yesterday…”
“Must we get out of bed?” I said in a soft, seductive voice.
Rafiq gave me a playful glare, rolling over to pin me down and attack me with kisses while I giggled underneath him. The kisses began to turn into something more passionate, until Rafiq reluctantly slammed the brakes on.
“My father will be here within the hour,” he said. “I wish we had time for that… so, so badly.” He gave my neck a frisky, soft bite to make me squeal.
“Later,” I said with a wink, and kissed him.
We each took a quick shower and got dressed, ready to meet with Mehmet. Rafiq went to the kitchen to prepare the tea service he knew his father would be expecting, while I went back into my room and began to unpack all of the belongings I’d gathered the night before. It wasn’t that I intending to move in immediately, of course, but suddenly, getting back to my apartment didn’t seem like such an important task on my to-do list after all.
Seeing the portrait Rafiq made for me had made my heart soar all over again. I couldn’t believe he had been hiding this talent from me all this time. Wanting to look at the painting as much as possible, I decided to follow his lead.
While he was busy in the kitchen, I hung up the portrait next to his on the wall outside the spare bedroom, and stepped back to inspect my handiwork. The warm tones in my portrait of Rafiq, already on the wall, were the perfect complement to the cool, nighttime shades he had used to bring out the dark blues of my eyes and dress.
“You completed us,” I said softly.
“What was that, honey?” said Rafiq from behind me as he came in the room carrying the tea tray. “Did you say something?”
“You completed us,” I repeated, turning to him with a smile. “Did you do that on purpose?”
Rafiq wasn’t looking at me as he carefully laid out the tea service on the coffee table.
“Do what on purpose?”
“The colors you used. Look,” I pointed. “On their own, these paintings are each their own, opposite worlds. But when you put them together, they become complimentary. They’re complete together… It’s night and day.”
Rafiq followed my gaze and smiled when he saw his painting hanging on the wall. The smile only grew as he considered what I was telling him. “You’re right,” he said. “They really do complement each other. I hadn’t realized when I started painting… All I could think about was creating the perfect space to bring out the glow in your eyes. They have quite the sparkle when you smile, you know.”
From across the room, I met his eyes, and couldn’t believe the love I felt in his gaze. It filled every inch of my heart with a warmth I had never known.
The buzzing of the intercom interrupted our moment. I hurried into the spare room to finish brushing my hair and applying a bit of makeup, and Rafiq answered the doorman, who was calling up to say his father’s cars had just arrived. By the time I came back out, the elevator doors were opening, and a whole cadre of people came spilling out in a cloud of loud shoes and multilingual chatter.
Surprised, I asked Rafiq in a quiet voice, “What is this all about?”
“This is how my father typically travels,” laughed Rafiq. “He left his crew downstairs on the first visit. He said he didn’t want to intimidate you right off the bat”
“But now I’m fair game, I guess?” I joked.
Rafiq leaned in and whispered next to my ear, “Don’t worry, the accountant is the only one who bites.”
I giggled and gave his arm a pinch.
Mehmet emerged from the middle of the group, which included the same two bodyguards we had met before, plus two other men in dark blue suits, and a thin blonde woman with her hair in a sophisticated upsweep, carrying a tablet in one hand and a bag full of other phones and devices. She had one of the phones pressed to her ear, and didn’t even acknowledge us aside from asking for a quiet place to work. Rafiq directed her to his office. The bodyguards spread out on their safety sweeps, and the men in blue suits wandered toward the penthouse windows, speaking lowly to each other.
Mehmet was beaming at me as he came forward with arms spread wide. “My beautiful angel,” he said, wrapping me in a tight hug. “It’s wonderful to see you again before I leave. I’m sorry we couldn’t make a day of it, but the business world is so unpredictable.”
“Hello, father,” I said and hugged him back. “Think nothing of it, I understand.”
“Rafiq told me you had a wonderful week at the gallery,” said Mehmet. “You broke your record for selling paintings, yes?”
I smiled up at Rafiq and said, “He’s right, we did. I couldn’t have done it without him. Rafiq is excellent when it comes to the art world.”
“Nonsense,” said Rafiq immediately, putting an arm around my shoulder. “Anything I do is only stating the obvious: your work is beauty. Any guest in your gallery who can’t see that is blind and unworthy of buying it.”
I never got tired of hearing it from him, especially now that I understood why he was able to communicate his artistic tastes so well; he wasn’t just paying lip service, he was a talented artist in his own right.
“You flatter me, darling,” I said, blushing. It felt wonderful to be using the pet name sincerely, for once.
Rafiq responded by taking my hand and pulling it up to his lips for a soft kiss, his eyes staring into mine. Heat rushed through my body and I suddenly wished we were alone in the penthouse.
“Wait, what’s this?” interrupted Mehmet, breaking the spell of the moment. “Where is your ring?”
I turned with a surprise. “I’m sorry?”
“Your engagement ring.” He pointed to the hand that Rafiq was holding up, practically showcasing for anyone who wanted to look that I was no longer wearing the engagement ring he’d given me. “Has something happened to it?”
My heart froze. Last night, when I’d been angry and convinced it was my last night in the penthouse under our arrangement, I’d left the ring on the dresser in the spare bedroom. I didn’t want to accidentally take off with it and give Rafiq a reason to bother me after I’d gone.
Caught up in the whirlwind of our emotional night, I’d completely forgotten to put the ring back on before Mehmet arrived.