The True King of Dahaar. Tara PammiЧитать онлайн книгу.
back, she checked her watch again. Her father was due any minute.
She was pacing the floor, wearing out the ancient, priceless rug when a knock sounded. Her feet flying on the floor, she opened the door.
And froze.
Azeez stood on the other side of the threshold. His jaw was clean-shaven, his gaze steady, a glimpse of the old him peeking out of it. She had forgotten the compelling effect his very presence held.
Her already strung-out nerves stretched a little more.
The fact that he was a few doors away in the same wing as her, night and day, rang like an unrelenting bell in the back of her head however busy she was. Seeing him outside her suite, in the palace of all the places, was a shock that needed its own category.
“I need to speak with you.”
He didn’t wait for her answer. In true arrogant-prince fashion, he pushed his way past her into the suite. Flustered at his sudden appearance, Nikhat turned around.
“Close your mouth, Nikhat. And the door.”
She shut her mouth, not the door. Hopefully she looked defiant, because inside she was trembling. “Why?”
The curve of his mouth turned up in a smirk, his gaze shining with an unholy light. That spark, that smile, had once played havoc with her senses, and apparently it still could. Because her legs were barely holding her up.
“Are you afraid to be alone with me?”
She closed the door shut behind her with a thud that should have silenced the resounding yes in her head.
Her luxurious and vast suite, which had mocked all her New York sophistication, suddenly seemed impossibly small with him standing in the middle of it. He was like the sun, reducing everything around him to colorless insignificance.
Standing close, his gaze moved over her like a caress. “Why are you dressed in that awful thing? And what happened to your hair?”
Nikhat stared back at him, all her worldliness, her sophistication, sliding away like sand between her fingers.
She had prepared herself to bear the brunt of his contempt, even hatred, in the coming months. But his attention, especially of a personal nature? No amount of preparation could help her deal with it.
“If this is how you dress usually, no wonder they were so happy to be rid of you in New York.”
“I left of my own volition. I left a good position in a cutting-edge hospital to come back.” Too late, she realized he was playing with her. His whole demeanor today was different. It was as if he had a strategy, as if all the fire of his emotions was neatly packed away for now. And even as he cut through her with his acerbic words, she still preferred him like that. The real him. “To build something that’s very much needed here in Dahaara.”
“Ah….I heard about all your plans for the clinic. Princess’s Zohra’s pregnancy, Ayaan’s desperation to fix me, your history with me, everything’s falling into place for you, isn’t it? Like always.”
Anger burst through her. “You think it’s easy for to me to be back here? To leave behind the freedom, the position, the respect I had in New York? To constantly fight against invisible prejudices just because I’m a woman? Even being the Princess’s personal physician is still apparently not recommendation enough.”
“If you expected anything different, then you’re a fool, Nikhat.”
“Because I want to change some things for the better in Dahaar? You had a dream like that once, Azeez. Or have you completely wiped out everything from the past?”
He remained unflappable, even as her temper soared. “You chose a difficult path for yourself and an even harder one by coming back. Why stay if it’s so hard?”
“Because I know that I can make a difference. I want all the hard work I put in to amount to something for Dahaar. And I refuse to let any prejudice masquerading as tradition stop me.”
His silence this time didn’t grate on her. Because being back in Dahaar was harder not only on a professional level but a personal one. She had tasted freedom in New York. She could go wherever she wanted, she could talk to whomever she wanted to, without written permission, without seeing questions lingering in gazes wherever she turned.
“No, you never stray from your path once you decide, do you?” A grudging respect filled his words. “Just don’t expect any changes overnight, Nikhat.”
She nodded, fiercely glad for this discussion. Because even if he said his words in a mocking tone, Azeez gave her a sense of being understood that she needed so much.
“So, dressing like you’re going to your own execution is the first step to convince everyone here to take you seriously?”
She raised a brow and smiled, smoothing a hand over the stiff silk. “Your mask of indifference in slipping, Azeez. You sound rather interested in how I’m dressed.”
Something playful entered his gaze as he shrugged. “You look like a black hole, Nikhat. Unless you tell me why, I will assume it’s to dissuade my interest. Then I’ll have to inform you that I would rather take another bullet in the hip than touch you.”
Heat flaring under her skin, Nikhat glared at him. “My father is coming to see me any minute. And my sisters. If you need me to be your punching bag, I would like to schedule the session for some other time that suits me better.”
She checked her watch again, unable to contain her anxiety.
“You have to look like this to see your father? Is this some new law that Ayaan passed?”
She looked down at herself, knowing he was right. But she didn’t want to give her father any more reason to be angry with her, or to find fault with her in any way. Loneliness she had battled for eight years solidified in her throat. “I…I have not seen him in eight years, Azeez. My sisters…can you imagine what Noor would look like now?” she said, thinking of her youngest sister. “Please, just leave, for now. I don’t have the luxury to turn my back on my family like you have done.”
The humor faded from his face. “Why didn’t you see them all these years?”
“My father’s condition for when I left Dahaar to study was that I not return. What you don’t know, and I didn’t realize, is how intractable he is. He forbade me from seeing him or my sisters.”
Before he could reply, a knock sounded on the door. Panic tying her stomach in knots, she grasped his hands and jerked back as the contact sent a jolt of sensation through her. “Please, Azeez,” she whispered, turning toward the door.
With a hard look at her, he walked around the sitting area and into her bedroom.
Only after she heard the click behind her did Nikhat’s heart settle back into place. Wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, she opened the wide, double doors.
The smile froze on her mouth when she saw her father, alone. “Hello, Father,” she said, unable to pull her gaze away from the eerily silent corridor.
His hands folded behind him, her father stepped into the suite. He stood there stiffly, casting a glance around the room, not a hint of warmth in his gaze or welcome in his stance.
Swallowing back her disappointment, Nikhat gestured toward the seating area. “Would you like something to drink?”
“I cannot stay long, Nikhat. There’s an urgent security issue that I have to address with Prince Ayaan.”
Nikhat nodded. “I understand how busy you are. I just…I thought the girls were coming with you.”
His gaze remained steady on her, nothing betrayed in his set face. “I wished to make sure it was suitable for them to visit you here.”
“It’s the palace, Father. It’s the most secure place in Dahaar. Ayaan said—” She caught herself at the spark of displeasure