Lily frowned as he slipped off the bed and disappeared through the flap that led to the little bathroom. What kind of answer was that? Something else was going on here. He was holding something back and she wanted to know what it was.
“What aren’t you telling me?” she asked when he came back out again.
“Telling you? Telling you what?” He got onto the bed and pulled her into his arms, her back to his chest, his body curving around his.
She relaxed against him. Perhaps she shouldn’t push this. Perhaps she should just enjoy the after-glow. But no, this mattered. She wanted to know.
“You like giving the orders. Being in charge. I just wanted to know why it’s so important.”
The arm around her waist tightened, his breath along the back of her neck. “Why do you want to know?”
She couldn’t stop the shiver that went through her. “Back in the car, you said passion was dangerous. I want to know why you thought that. Because you’ve just proved pretty conclusively that it isn’t.”
“We should not be speaking of these things.”
“Why not?” She turned in his arms “I told you about Dan. Can’t you give me something in return?”
“This is not a game we’re playing.”
“I know that.” Gently, she ran a finger along his jaw, tracing the strong line of it, unable to keep her hands off him. “But is it wrong to want to know more about you? You know everything about me.”
He didn’t reply for a long moment. Then he said, “My history is not a pleasant one. I did not want to bring such memories here, with you.”
She remembered what he’d said in the dunes. The look on his face as he’d told her. His father beating him. God . . . “Isma’il, it’s okay. If it’s too much, you don’t have to—”
“No,” the word was soft, but stopped her. “You are right to ask. You have shared things with me. Painful things. You have faced them. Perhaps I need to do the same.” He paused. “Turn over for me.”
Lily didn’t argue, turning again, the raw heat of him up against her back, drawn and held in the circle of his arms. She understood. Some things were easier to say when no one was looking at you.
Behind her, she felt Isma’il’s mouth against her shoulder, brushing a kiss along it before he said, finally. “I do not like to be helpless. I do not like being at someone else’s mercy. Khalid had absolute power and he used it without qualm. Against anyone who stood up to him or argued with him, it didn’t matter who.” A small hesitation. “He used it on me and on my mother as well. And we could do nothing. My mother especially was powerless against him.”
Lily put her hands over his where they lay on her stomach, feeling the tips of his fingers beneath hers. They were cold. Her throat felt tight. “I’m sorry, Isma’il.” Sorry. What a pathetic word to say. But she couldn’t think of anything else. “I’m sorry you had that man for a father. I’m sorry you had to endure that.”
He said nothing for a long moment, but she felt his breath against her neck. “He was not my father. He was not worthy of the name.” Isma’il’s voice was rough. “He was not worthy to be called sheikh either. Dahar suffered under his rule.”
She held his hands tighter, pressing down. Wanting to give him something, make it better for him. “And you’re fixing it. You’re healing what he broke.”
Another pause, longer this time, his body taut behind hers. “Sometimes,” he said hoarsely, “I do not know if what I am doing is healing anything at all.”
Lily closed her eyes. Pain in his voice. Doubt. Khalid may have left scars on his country, but the ones he’d left on his son ran far deeper and were far more painful.
“You are, Isma’il. You are. The fact that I am here, negotiating with your tribes is testament to that. You could easily have sold the oil to anyone and forced them to agree. But you didn’t. You’re giving them a choice.”
Slowly, the tension began to relax in the hard muscular body that lay against hers. “They may not choose Harkness, Habibti.”
“I know. But if they don’t, I can live with that.” It was odd to realize that what had seemed so important to her before, suddenly seemed less so now. Part of wanting the contract had been wanting to prove herself as CEO. Prove her strength and her power. Prove she wasn’t vulnerable. She could see that so clearly now.
Yet, it wasn’t the contract she needed to prove that. That strength and power had always been there. All she’d needed was Isma’il to help her find them.