‘And what you want? Does it matter?’
‘I can say no,’ she murmured, meeting his eyes and wishing she hadn’t when a feeling of pain and betrayal lanced her. ‘He won’t force me. If he tried, I’d leave, and I’d leave for good,’ she promised. ‘The decision is mine.’
Amir pulled her closer, into his arms, staring down at her for several long beats. The sky was silent; even the juniya were quiet in that moment.
‘And there was no one in New York?’
Her breath snagged in her throat. ‘On the contrary, Manhattan is heavily populated.’
He didn’t laugh. His thumb smudged her lower lip, his eyes probing hers. ‘You didn’t meet anyone that made you want to stay?’
She shook her head. ‘There were children. The most
beautiful children. I fell in love with each and every one I worked with. I had friends—have friends. But no, there was no man.’
‘I find that impossible to believe.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you’re—’
She held her breath, waiting, needing him to finish the sentence.
But he shook his head, a tight smile gripping his lips. ‘Four years is a long time.’
She exhaled slowly. ‘It is,’ she agreed. ‘But Matthew messed me up pretty good.’ She lay backwards in the water, and he caught her legs, wrapping them around his waist, holding her there as she floated, staring up at the sky. There was such safety in his hold on her. She felt—whole. Complete. Content. But not for long, because the realisation of those sentiments brought with it a crippling wave of concern.
‘Part of what I loved about meeting you was the anonymity. I felt such a connection with you, and all the better because you had no idea I was Johara Qadir.’
‘No.’ For a moment his voice broke through the serenity of the moment. She remembered his reaction that night, his assurance that if he’d known he would never have acted on those feelings. And none of this would have happened.
‘You couldn’t sell the story of what we’d done. You couldn’t hurt me.’
Silence followed those words, so she began to regret them, and wish she hadn’t revealed so much of herself.
But slowly, his hands curled around her back and lifted her from the water, bringing her body against his. His eyes latched to hers.
‘I never want to hurt you.’
She swallowed, her throat thick with emotions. ‘I know.’
Staring at him, bathed in moonlight, Johara felt as though every moment of her soul were shifting into alignment. Everything she’d ever been and whatever she was to become were resonating right there; she was her truest, purest form of self in his arms.
‘I hate that a man treated you like that.’
‘Yes.’ She tried to sound crisp and businesslike, but the truth was it still hurt. Not Matthew’s deeds so much as her own naivety and quickness to trust. She’d gone against her brother’s wishes, she’d ignored his warnings, and she’d paid the price.
‘I want to show you something tomorrow.’
The change of subject surprised her. She lifted a single brow, waiting for him to continue.
‘The gallery, here in the palace. Will you come and see it with me?’
Her stomach looped. ‘I’d like to,’ she said, truthfully. ‘But my schedule is already jam-packed.’
‘Your schedule has been revised.’
She stared at him in surprise. ‘Revised why?’