Modern Romance April 2017 Books 5 - 8. Кейт Хьюит
Читать онлайн книгу.
the opportunity to come forward with the very expensive bottle of wine Malik had ordered. He poured a generous mouthful into Malik’s glass and Malik drank, his eyes on Gracie as she snapped her mouth closed and stared at him, flummoxed and fuming.
‘Very good,’ Malik said, dismissing the sommelier. The other staff retreated to a discreet distance. Gracie leaned forward, her hazel eyes glinting with both shock and outrage.
‘We can’t just come to Alazar.’
Malik bit back the autocratic retorts that sprang so quickly to his lips. Since hearing about his son he’d wanted to do nothing more than drag Gracie and Sam onto the royal jet as quickly as possible and get them back to Alazar, safe and secure. He’d been tempted more than once since coming to America to do just that, and damn Gracie’s finer feelings. Fortunately he’d learned both restraint and discretion in ten years of managing warring Bedouin tribes. He needed to play a long game now, and for the moment, at least, he needed Gracie’s cooperation.
‘Why not?’ he asked.
Gracie’s fair eyebrows rose. ‘Why not?’ she repeated, as if she could scarcely believe the question.
Malik nodded. ‘Yes. Why not?’
It was a simple question, and yet still she boggled. ‘Because...because he has school and I have a job and friends and a life...and we just can’t.’
She was afraid. Malik saw it in her eyes and the way her hands clenched on the tabletop before she hid them in her lap. But what exactly was Gracie afraid of? Did she suspect what he intended? She must, at least a little. Surely she had to realise the life she’d been living no longer existed. Nothing could be the same for her ever again. Judging from what he’d seen of her life so far, that was not necessarily a bad thing.
‘I think you can,’ Malik said smoothly. He kept his voice low, pleasant and mild. He felt almost as if he were taming one of the Bedouin’s wild Arabians. The halter he would slip on later, when it was too late for her to bolt. ‘It is almost the summer holiday, is it not?’
‘Yes...’
‘So Sam will be out of school and you will be free from work.’ She said nothing, and he continued, deliberately gentling his voice, ‘Why not have a two-week holiday? Give Sam the opportunity to discover his roots and get to know his father?’ A tremor went through him at that thought, but he masked it. ‘Surely that is a reasonable request, Grace.’
She gazed down into her wine, clearly battling against the idea. ‘What happens after that?’ she asked in a low voice. ‘You can’t just breeze in and out of Sam’s life.’
‘I have no intention of doing that,’ Malik returned evenly. No intention at all. He paused, not wanting to lie to her face and yet knowing she could in no way handle the truth at this point. ‘I intend to be part of Sam’s life from now on. How that manifests itself remains to be seen and is subject to both of our agreement, of course.’
Relief flickered through her eyes, followed by dawning fear. ‘You mean...a custody arrangement?’
Malik spread his hands. ‘Let us use these next two weeks to decide together the best way forward.’ He paused for only a moment before continuing, ‘This could be enjoyable for all of us, Grace. An adventure, yes? A chance to show Sam some of the world and to experience it yourself. Why resist?’
* * *
Why resist? It felt like a siren song, but it was also starting to sound sensible. A two-week luxury holiday was certainly something Sam hadn’t experienced, and Malik was right. Both he and Sam needed a chance to get to know each other. Yet Gracie still resisted instinctively, out of fear. Fear for her son but also fear for herself. She had not been able to resist this man once before. She was afraid she might not resist him again...and now so much more was at stake. Her son. Her life.
But...two weeks. It wasn’t a lifetime, and she liked the thought of showing her family and neighbours that she wasn’t quite the screw-up they all silently seemed to think she was. Instead of being a struggling single mom, she had a glamorous and important man arrive to sweep both her and Sam away, at least for a little while. Was she shallow to care about that? Did it make her weak?
In that moment she didn’t care. Malik was waiting for her response, his silvery gaze resting intently on her, and his reasons made sense.
‘All right,’ she said, and released the breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. ‘We’ll come for two weeks.’
Malik’s answering smile broke over her like a wave, left her dazed and reeling. He was irresistible when he smiled. His eyes lightened and he reminded her of who he’d used to be. Who she’d once thought he was. Dangerous, that smile. She’d have to develop an immunity to it.
‘Thank you, Grace,’ Malik said, and he leaned over and squeezed her hand. That was dangerous, too, the slide of his fingers over hers making Gracie want to shiver. Tremble. More memories tumbled through her mind, a sensual kaleidoscope she had to suppress. She couldn’t survive two weeks with Malik al Bahjat if he was going to turn on the charm.
‘When would you like us to go?’ she asked, determined to recapture a little of the brisk practicality she’d been hoping to have for this meeting.
‘Tomorrow.’
‘What?’ So much for that. ‘We can’t go tomorrow, Malik. Sam doesn’t even have a passport.’
‘That can be arranged.’
Gracie shook her head, unsure whether to be impressed or terrified by the extent of Malik’s power. She was both. ‘Why do we have to move so fast? And what am I to tell Sam? And my family—’
‘The truth.’ For a second an edge of iron entered Malik’s voice, reminding Gracie just who she was dealing with. He could turn on the charm, and he could just as easily and quickly turn it off.
‘Which is?’ she demanded, refusing to be cowed. ‘Do I tell Sam you’re his father?’
‘I’ll tell him,’ Malik stated. ‘When the time is right. And why not tell your parents you’ve been swept away by a sheikh for the holiday of a lifetime?’
He smiled again, and she was not immune. Not yet, anyway. ‘So not the truth, then.’
‘A version of it, at least.’
‘Some version.’ She shook her head, sensing how futile it was to resist Malik’s will and yet needing to try anyway, for her own sake. ‘You’re being unreasonable. I have to give notice at school—there’s still a week left. And Sam, as well...’
‘Like I said, it can be arranged. I am the leader of a country, Grace. I cannot wait around here while Sam finishes a couple days of school.’ Their first course arrived with a flourish, and Gracie glanced down at the oysters lying in their shells on a bed of crushed ice.
She glanced at Malik’s plate of langoustines and did not know which dish looked more awkward to eat. ‘Well, this is an adventure,’ she said with a touch of acerbity, and Malik laughed, a rich, full-bodied sound that had her blinking in surprise. She’d never heard him laugh like that.
‘I think you’ll like them,’ he said. ‘Do you know how to eat them?’
‘There’s a method?’
‘Only if you don’t want to get them all over yourself.’ He leaned across, taking the tiny fork that had been left with the plate and freeing an oyster from its shell. Gracie expected him to sit back, but instead he took the oyster in his hand and lifted it to her lips. She jerked back in surprise.
‘What...?’
‘You just slurp it down,’ he said, his voice low and sensual. His eyes, hot and heavy-lidded, were on her. Gracie felt entirely discomfited.
‘Slurp it,’ she repeated, unconvinced. She did not think she would look particularly attractive slurping raw fish from Malik’s hand. But why did she care