She crawled back into her bed, and tucked her knees up under her crossed arms, trying not to think about how in Sydney it would be halfway through the afternoon instead halfway through the night, trying not to think about the meeting with Rashid at breakfast that she had asked for and that now seemed so close as the clock edged closer to a Qajarese morning.
Thinking instead of how she could help him overcome whatever failings he thought he had and bond with his tiny sister.
Thinking that she cared because she wanted Atiyah to be happy.
She stretched her legs out and laid her head back in her deep, welcoming pillows. It was nothing to do with the ache she could feel in Rashid’s eyes. All she wanted was for Atiyah to be happy.
That was all.
CHAPTER NINE
THE SOFT SKY outside her windows was layered in pink and blue like cotton candy when Tora rose. Atiyah was gurgling and examining her hands and fingers when Tora peeked over the side of her cot.
‘Good morning, beautiful,’ she said, only to be rewarded by a big, gummy smile that made her heart sing. ‘Oh, you sweetheart,’ she said, lifting her up as Yousra appeared with a tray of coffee.
‘She’s awake?’ asked the girl.
‘Yes, and she’s smiling. Look,’ and Yousra came closer and tickled her tummy and the baby kicked her little legs and made a sound like a hiccup and both women laughed.
They played with her until it was almost time for Tora’s meeting with Rashid. There were preparations being made outside on the terrace—she could hear someone giving instructions as staff set a table for two. Breakfast on the terrace overlooking the pool? That should be pleasant enough, if only it didn’t remind her of what had happened on that terrace last night.
She closed her eyes as she twisted her hair into a bun and pinned it to her head, trying to keep her mind on how she was going to get Rashid and Atiyah together and not thinking about that kiss. She really would have to keep her distance, especially when the velvet shadows of the night stroked her soul and dimmed her logic. No more night-time wandering for her. No more assuming she was alone.
And definitely no more kissing. She touched a finger to her lips, wondering how a man who could be so hard and cold could feel so gentle and warm...
She shook her head to banish the thought. Oh, no. She wouldn’t go making that mistake again. If she hadn’t been holding Atiyah, she didn’t know how it might have ended.
Liar. She knew exactly how.
On her back.
Or in the shower.
No! She could not afford to think of that night in Sydney. That was in the past, when they had been nothing more than strangers in the night. Things were different now. She had a job to do and she would show him that he could not just click his fingers to get his way. If she achieved nothing else before she left, she would show him that he could love Atiyah.
She gave her hair and make-up a final check before adding a slick of neutral lip gloss. There, cool and professional on the outside at least, just the way she needed to be for this meeting. She wouldn’t let him rattle her today. Besides, she was too happy to be rattled. Because Atiyah had smiled.
* * *
Rashid was already seated at the table reading some papers when she approached. The sun was still low enough not to cause them any grief, but there was the promise of heat in the air. He glanced up disapprovingly. ‘Haven’t you got anything else to wear?’
Tora sighed as she sat down. If she’d thought that his opening up to her a little last night might have made his attitude towards her less adversarial, she was wrong. The walls between them were up again, not that she was about to let him spoil her good mood. ‘Good morning to you, too. I trust you slept well.’
He grunted as a waiter appeared, laying a napkin across her lap and fetching a dish with yoghurt and fruit before enquiring if she’d like tea or coffee. She smiled and asked for coffee, waiting for it to be poured while all the time she was aware of the man opposite simmering where he sat.
‘It’s a beautiful morning,’ she said, when the waiter had departed.
‘You can’t expect to wear—’ he nodded disdainfully in the direction of her clothes, ignoring what she’d said ‘—that every day.’
Tora looked down at her clothes, at her short-sleeved shirt and skirt, both fresh and, as far as she knew it, baby-spew free. ‘What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?’
‘Nothing, if you’ve got a thing about those boring shirts you probably call a uniform. For the record, I don’t.’