‘Safiyah?’
Suddenly he was before her, looking down from under sombre brows.
‘What’s wrong?’
She shook her head, swallowing the reckless words that crammed her mouth. Pushing away the almost overwhelming urge to pretend this was real. Once she’d yearned for love, had believed in it with all her heart. To her dismay it seemed even the hard lessons of the last years hadn’t banished that craving.
‘Mama! Karim! I’m starving. Aren’t you?’ Tarek raced into the tent, lifting the lid on one of the cool boxes.
‘Nothing’s wrong.’ She aimed a vague smile in Karim’s direction. ‘You seem to have thought of everything. Thank you.’
Before he could question further, she hurried after her son.
‘Wait, Tarek. You need to wash your hands first.’
Again Karim felt he’d missed his opportunity with Safiyah. In the rare moments when it seemed they were on the brink of something more than sex, or a purely dynastic marriage, the possibility shimmered for an instant and then shattered.
Was it weakness to want more?
He’d told himself he wanted to secure their future. If he and Safiyah knew and trusted each other they’d create a unit that would underpin his new role.
Or did his need for more from Safiyah have another explanation?
Personal experience made him particularly sympathetic to Tarek’s situation. A childhood devoid of love had made Karim determined to do better for the boy than his own parents had done.
His mouth twisted in distaste.His parents. He didn’t know who his father was. His mother had died when he was young and her lover had never lifted a finger to contact Karim.
Maybe that was it. Apart from Ashraf, Karim was alone. Maybe his determination to build a family unit wasn’t just for Tarek’s sake, but his own.
He scowled. The notion was absurd. He had a plan and he was determined to make it work. That was all. The throb of anticipation now, as he joined Safiyah and Tarek, simply meant he was pleased at his progress so far. No more than that.
Yet a couple of hours later Karim had ceased to think in terms of plans and progress. Relaxed and replete, he found himself enjoying Tarek’s amusing chatter and Safiyah’s company. Their easy conversation seemed the most natural thing in the world.
How long since he’d done something as simple and fine as enjoying a picnic?
The answer was easy. Never.
His early life had been filled with royal responsibilities. There’d been no lazy afternoons. And since he’d left Za’daq he’d thrown himself into his investment business, needing to fill the huge gap in his world where duty had once been.
Now he stood in the centre of the clearing, one hand on Tarek’s shoulder as the boy leaned into him, his head flung back to watch the red kite bobbing above them.
‘Look, Karim! Look, Mama! It’s flying.’
‘I’m looking, sweetie. It’s wonderful.’
‘Karim can teach you too.’ The boy twisted to look up at Karim. ‘Can’t you?’
‘Of course.’
The boy relinquished the kite’s string and scampered across to his mother, dragging her back to Karim. ‘Here.’
Ignoring Safiyah’s rueful smile, Karim stepped closer. Immediately the light perfume of her skin teased him. So instead of merely handing the kite to her he moved behind her, wrapping his arm around her waist. He felt her sudden intake of breath and the silk of her hair against his mouth as he brought his hand to hers, offering her the kite.
For a moment she stood stiffly. Then the wind jerked the kite and she gave an exclamation of surprise and delight.
‘Careful. Watch it doesn’t dip too low,’ he warned.
She tugged, and together they moved to catch the up-draught. It took some manoeuvring, and a near miss, but soon they had it flying high again.