Modern Romance April 2017 Books 5 - 8. Кейт ХьюитЧитать онлайн книгу.
you’re Sultan,’ Sam finally said, looking up. Malik nodded, waiting for more. ‘What does that mean for me?’ Trust Sam to make that leap almost instantly. Her son was fiercely intelligent.
‘It means you’d be Sultan after me.’
‘Sultan...’ Sam looked away.
‘How do you feel about that, Sam?’ Malik asked quietly.
Sam kicked at the dirt. ‘I don’t know.’
‘It is a lot to take in, I understand. Nothing needs to change right now.’
‘But it has changed,’ Sam said, a note of accusation entering his voice. ‘Will I even get to go back to Illinois? To my home?’
‘Of course you will,’ Malik answered steadily. ‘For visits.’
‘I didn’t mean visits,’ Sam retorted. He looked up, his eyes bright with both anger and tears. ‘Why are you telling me all this now? Why did you lie to me all along? I hate you!’ He threw Malik a vicious look, and then he scrambled up from the blanket and stalked away. Gracie half rose to go after him, but Malik stayed her with one hand.
‘Let him go. My staff will keep an eye on him and he needs some time alone.’ His face was impassive, his tone quiet, but Gracie sensed his hurt. He had wanted his son to embrace him and all he’d offered, and he hadn’t.
‘He didn’t mean it,’ Gracie said, and Malik did not reply. She tried again. ‘This isn’t a rejection of you, Malik. He just needs some time.’
He managed a stiff smile that didn’t reach his eyes. ‘I know.’
They ate in silence, conscious of Sam sloping about the rocks a few dozen metres away, his head bent, his shoulders hunched. Gracie ached to comfort both Malik and Sam, to draw this unconventional family together and make it stronger than ever before.
Glancing sideways at Malik, she thought about his refusal to love, that ephemeral notion he disdained because it had made his father weak. But was Malik afraid of being weak—or being hurt? How could she convince him it was worth the risk?
They were all still subdued as they packed up the lunch and got back on the ponies. Half an hour of trekking later, Malik pulled his pony over by a rocky overhang. Gracie and Sam followed suit, and he gestured to them to follow him into the shallow cave.
‘This is where my ancestor Sultan Raji al Bahjat camped when he was being attacked by the Ottomans,’ he told them quietly. ‘He led his people to an overwhelming victory despite the huge odds against him.’ Malik placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder. ‘He was a wonderful leader. He was your ancestor as well as mine.’
Sam didn’t say anything, and Gracie perched on a rock, her knees drawn up to her chest, her heart in her mouth.
‘You are his descendant, Sam,’ Malik stated quietly. ‘You have the blood of sultans and kings running through your veins. Alazar itself is in your blood.’ Malik scooped up a handful of crumbly, pebbly soil and pressed it into Sam’s hand. ‘You may fight against it now, because it is strange and even unwelcome, but it is the truth.’
Sam stared at Malik for a long moment, and then he opened his hand so the soil spilled out, showering their feet. ‘I want to go home,’ he said quietly, then turned and walked from the cave.
Gracie stood up, her heart beating painfully. ‘Malik...’ she began, but he just shook his head and brushed by her.
They rode in silence back to the Palace of the Clouds, and Sam and Malik both disappeared once inside to their own pursuits, leaving Gracie feeling lonely and heartsick. She wanted Malik to reassure her that everything was going to be okay, even as she craved to reassure him. He was hurting, and he was choosing not to let her close. Both of her men were. In the end she called her parents to have a conversation that was long overdue.
‘You’re staying in Alazar?’ Her mother sounded appalled and incredulous once she’d explained she was to marry Malik.
‘Yes, although of course we’ll come back to visit. But Sam belongs here, Mom, and so do I.’ I think. She closed her eyes, battling against the uncertainty that was crashing over her in waves. She realised afresh how fragile everything was, for her to feel this way now. The anxiety that had fallen away this morning was coming back in full force.
‘But the Middle East...it’s so far away...’
‘Malik has promised you can visit any time. And we’ll visit you. In fact, we’re planning a wedding reception in a couple of weeks. I’d love it if all of you could come.’
‘Of course we’ll come, Gracie,’ her dad said. ‘We wouldn’t miss it for the world.’ The warmth in his voice made Gracie’s eyes sting. She’d needed that reassurance.
Sam stayed in his room for dinner, and Gracie and Malik ate alone. She tried to engage him, alternating between stilted offers of reassurance and attempts at teasing banter, but it all fell flat.
‘I’m sorry,’ Malik said as a servant cleared away their dishes. He rubbed his temples, looking more tired and careworn than Gracie had ever seen him before. ‘I have been distracted tonight, and not just by Sam. There are issues of state that concern me, as always.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Gracie said, knowing the words were inadequate. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’
Malik shook his head. ‘No, but we should return to Teruk sooner than I had hoped.’
Gracie went to bed alone, aching for Malik, but he’d said he needed to work. Was this a vision of the future? Gracie wondered as she hugged a pillow to herself. Nights alone, a distant husband and an embittered and angry son? At that moment everything felt like a huge and disastrous mistake.
She dozed off eventually, only to wake when she felt Malik slide into bed next to her. Sleepily she turned to him, surprise flooding through her when he pulled her almost roughly into his arms and buried his face in her neck.
‘Malik...’
‘I need you, Gracie.’ He kissed her hard, his hands roving over her body, sliding under her nightgown, every movement urgent and demanding, a plea Gracie understood. She hadn’t been able to reassure him earlier, but she could now, and her body was responding in kind, craving the comfort as well as the exquisite release she knew their union would bring.
‘Please...’ Malik gasped. ‘Touch me. I need you to touch me. I need to feel you...’
‘Oh, Malik.’ Tears stung her eyes as she pressed her lips to his chest. Malik groaned as she kissed her way down his body, offering him her body in return, her heart and soul, every touch of her lips her way of telling him she loved him. And his acceptance of her gift, his admission of how he needed her, was his way of saying it back. She had to believe that. She did believe that.
‘Gracie...’ Malik’s hands were on her shoulders, his body arching instinctively as her mouth moved lower against his abdomen, his erection pushing against her. She hesitated, because she’d never done this before, but she wanted to show Malik how much she loved him. How much she was giving him, offering him her entire self, everything she had and was and could be, in that moment and for ever.
His breath came out in a hiss as she moved lower and then took him into her mouth. His hands tangled in her hair and Gracie revelled in the selfless act of love she was offering.
He came with a loud cry, his body shuddering before he pulled her up towards him, flipping her on her back as he drove deeply inside her. Gracie wrapped her legs around his waist, the sensation so sudden and overwhelming and intrinsically right that she gasped aloud.
Malik pressed his forehead against hers as he moved inside her and she matched his rhythm. ‘I’m not hurting you?’
‘No,’ she assured him. She arched upwards, drawing him even deeper into herself, taking everything from him and giving it all back. ‘No. You could never hurt me, Malik.’ I love