Modern Romance April 2017 Books 5 - 8. Кейт Хьюит
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in sensuous rhythm, bodies straining, mouths gasping, hands seeking, until a climax crashed over them that shook Gracie right down to her marrow, reverberating through her bones and leaving her weak and utterly sated.
Afterwards Malik held on to her, rolling onto his back so Gracie lay sprawled over him, their bodies still wrapped around one another so Gracie didn’t know where she left off and he began. Malik buried his face in her hair, and she felt his body shuddering, his arms clasped tightly around her. Neither of them spoke; neither of them needed to. In that moment their communication felt silent, perfect and pure. I love you didn’t even need to be said.
* * *
‘It won’t be long.’
Malik gazed at his grandfather’s face in the satellite video call and felt a strange plunging sensation in his middle. ‘What do you mean?’ he asked, even though he had a feeling he knew exactly what Asad meant.
‘I’m dying,’ Asad said bluntly. ‘And the cancer is quicker than anyone anticipated. I have weeks, maybe a month, no longer.’ He closed his eyes, shuddering as a pain gripped him, his face pale and waxy. Then he opened them once more and stared bleakly at Malik. ‘There is much to say and little time to say it.’
‘Say what you will,’ Malik answered. His voice was terse, his chest tight with emotion he couldn’t quite identify. He’d been feeling far too much these last few days—first with Sam’s apparent rejection of him, and then last night with Gracie, their passion more intense, more emotional, than anything he’d ever experienced. Remembering it filled him with a mixture of joy and shame; he’d revealed so much weakness, showed her how much he needed her, and yet it had felt so good. So right.
‘I have had time to reflect, these last weeks and months,’ Asad said slowly. ‘And I fear I have, over the years, been too harsh with you.’
For a moment Malik could not form words to reply. Too harsh? He thought of the cruel words, the beatings, the taunts, the enforced regime. Yes, his grandfather had been too harsh. And it was too late for regrets or even forgiveness.
‘I feared for Alazar,’ Asad continued. ‘Its stability is more crucial than ever in this current climate of war and extremism. I wanted to safeguard it, and perhaps you have paid the price.’ He sighed heavily. ‘As did Azim.’
‘Well I know it.’
‘I was afraid for you,’ his grandfather explained. His words came slowly, his face haggard with the effort. ‘Afraid you would turn out like your father.’
‘I hope I have not disappointed you too much,’ Malik said stiffly.
‘No, but I still fear,’ Asad answered. ‘With this woman...do not make the mistake your father made, Malik, and love a woman the way he did. It made him weak, even frail. He never would have been a good ruler of our people. He cared too much, and he lost all when your mother died. Do not be the same, and cause the ruin not only of your own country, but your own soul. Love is weakness, Malik. I have always told you that, and I have seen it proved right.’
Malik kept his face neutral as he absorbed his grandfather’s words. He’d come from Gracie’s bed only hours ago, and he could still smell her scent on him, remember how much weakness he’d shown last night when he’d reached for her. I need you, Gracie. He cringed now at the admission he’d made in a moment of desperation.
‘I am not in love with her.’ The words came out flat, cold. He meant them. At least, he wanted to mean them. He needed to mean them, because, as Asad had said, love was weakness. He’d known that, seen it in the way his father had lost his reason for living when his mother had died. Felt it in himself, when he’d realised how much power Gracie had. Needing her, feeling less than whole without her.
The last week had been a dream of sunshine and happiness, not reality. The reality was a marriage of convenience, a life of duty and a great deal of hard work. Not something as nebulous and untrustworthy as love.
‘Good.’ Asad nodded slowly; Malik could see he was tiring. ‘Then marry her and keep her where you must. And return home quickly if you can.’
‘We will leave today.’
After the call, Malik remained in his bedroom, his unseeing gaze on the distant snow-capped mountains. A few birds twittered their early-morning song, but otherwise the entire palace was hushed and still. Now what?
Now, he knew, he would have to go ahead with his plans. Marry Gracie in a quiet civil ceremony, and announce Sam to the world. He hated the thought of his son resisting such a move, but he knew he had no choice. News of Asad’s illness had already leaked to the press. The vultures would soon start circling.
* * *
‘What’s wrong?’
Gracie gazed at Malik’s serious expression and felt her insides plunge. She’d been looking forward to seeing him again, after their intense encounter last night. Now, as he stood in the doorway of her bedroom, a deep frown marring the sculpted perfection of his features, dread took over. ‘What’s happened?’
‘My grandfather has taken a turn for the worse,’ Malik said after a pause. ‘He is dying, and the end will come sooner than anyone thought.’
‘I’m so sorry, Malik.’ Relief coursed through her at the realisation that she wasn’t causing that frown, but it was edged with concern for this man she knew she loved. ‘Do you want to return to Teruk?’
‘Yes, we will have to leave this afternoon.’ Malik passed a hand over his face. ‘Everything will happen quickly now.’
‘I understand.’ She wished she felt more ready. She wished she felt closer to Malik, for despite their amazing intimacy last night he was the cold and distant stranger again this morning. When he looked as inscrutable as this, she had no idea how to reach him, or even if she could. And yet they were soon to be married.
An hour later they were boarding the helicopter, and, although he was quiet, Sam’s simmering resentment seemed to have run its course, and Gracie was glad for that. Her son would get used to this new life and relish the challenges and opportunities. She only wished she felt more confident in herself, secure in Malik’s feelings for her—whatever those were.
Last night, when he’d pulled her to him with such desperate urgency, she’d wondered if he loved her already, but simply didn’t have the words for it. Last night his body had told her he loved her, but now Gracie wondered if that was just so much wishful thinking, because she wanted Malik’s love so much.
Now, in the bright, harsh light of day, all her uncertainties had come rushing back. She longed for Malik to turn to her with a reassuring smile, to squeeze her hand. She craved his strength for everything that lay ahead, but Malik was completely cut off from her, silent and stony-faced. He didn’t even look at her once.
Her stomach seethed with nerves as the flat-roofed buildings of Teruk came in view as the helicopter started its descent, the sky above turning lavender. Gracie caught Sam’s eye and he gave her a lopsided smile.
‘It’s going to be okay, Mom.’
Gracie managed a smile back, humbled by her son’s strength. He would, she realised, make a very good leader.
Back at the palace Malik disappeared into an office and Gracie was shepherded back to the harem. The rooms that had felt like a luxurious hotel days ago now felt like a gilded prison. Was Malik going to make the announcement? Shouldn’t she be briefed? And when on earth were they going to get married?
She paced the living room of the suite, longing for answers and even more for Malik. For his solid, steadying presence, his sense of unshakeable strength, his sudden, brilliant smile. She needed him.
A sudden whirring of helicopter blades had her hurrying towards the window. Gracie watched as another helicopter touched down, wondering what important person had arrived at the palace.
She found out after an hour more of restless pacing, when the same servant woman who had attended to her on