Never Seduce a Sheikh(57)

He had no idea where he was going, he just walked. And it was only when he stepped through a particular doorway that he realized, with a cold shock, where his subconscious had led him.

Why this room? Why now?

Footsteps behind him, quickened breathing.

He turned sharply to see Lily coming through the doorway. Coming into the room where he’d beaten his father to a bloody pulp.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, dark eyes full anger. “You can’t tell me not to love you, have passionate sex with me on my desk, then walk away without a word. I won’t let you.”

“Go,” he ordered harshly. “You have a plane to catch.”

“No. I’m not going anywhere. I meant what I said, Sheikh. You want a fight? You have one.”

She began to come closer and the breath caught in his throat, because he didn’t want her in this room with him. Where all the memories were. All the horror.

“Get out. Get out of here!”

Lily just shook her head, coming closer and closer, brown eyes fixed on his. “I’m not walking away from you. I’m not running. There’s nothing you can do, nothing you can say that will drive me away.”

His heart twisted, a sudden, agonizing pain. “Do you know where we are, Lily? Do you know what this room is? It’s the dining room.”

She blinked at him, the crease between her brows appearing. “The dining room?”

“Yes. I haven’t been in here for years. Do you know why? Because over there is where I nearly killed my father.”

The words seemed to sink into the silence of the room like heavy stones, weighing everything down.

The look on her face froze. For a second, she stared at him. Then abruptly, she turned away and he couldn’t help feeling a certain savage satisfaction. But it wasn’t for long. Because instead of walking straight out the door, she went over to the spot he’d indicated and stood on it, looking down at the tiled floor. “Here? Right here?”

He didn’t want to look, because he could still see Khalid on the floor, still see the blood that stained his shirt. Still feel the hard leather of the crop in his hands. But he made himself do it. “Yes. There.”

Lily glanced down at the pale tiles of the floor. “Interesting,” she said after a long moment. “There must have been a lot of blood.”

“Yes.” So much of it. On the floor, on his hands, so slippery. Slick.

Lily swept the sole of her shoe across the tiles. “There,” she said, quiet. “It’s gone now.”

Icy shock slid down his back. “Gone?” he demanded. “It is not gone. It will never be gone. Don’t you understand? It will always be there. That is why you have to leave. That is why you cannot love me and why I cannot love you in return! Love isn’t possible for a man like me.”

But her dark eyes just held his, so certain. So sure. And she began to walk towards him again.

He wanted to run, turn around and walk away, away from the memories and the anguish, but something held him still. Waiting for her.

She stopped right in front of him, her eyes so dark. Looking at him. Into him. As if she could see every part of him, even the blackest corners of his soul.

“Give me your hands,” she ordered softly.

And he found himself raising them to her, felt her cool, forgiving fingers take them in hers. She turned them over, his palms facing up. Then, she bent her head and before he could move, she pressed a kiss to the center of each palm. “And it’s gone here now, too,” she murmured.

Shock expanded outwards, through his body, through his heart. Her mouth felt warm, her lips soft, making all his nerve-endings sing. His throat felt constricted and he tried to pull his hands away, but her fingers locked around them, gripping them tight in her own. She lifted her chin, looking up at him, will burning in her eyes. A strong, stubborn will that would not be denied.

“The past is over, Isma’il. It’s gone. Wiped away. Let it go.”

Isma’il could feel himself begin to shake, a tremor deep inside him. “It is not that simple.”

“Yes it is. The boy you were then was only that, a boy. An angry, abused, teenage boy. He wasn’t bad. He wasn’t evil. He wasn’t tainted. He was angry and hurt and betrayed. That’s all.”

“It is not all. What I did cannot be forgiven.”

Her cool fingers wrapped around his. “I forgive you, Isma’il. What you have to do now is to forgive yourself.”

He could hardly speak. “I am afraid.”

The look in her eyes softened, as if she could see the war inside him. The hope battling with the fear. “I know. I was afraid too. But you showed me how much strength I had. How powerful I truly was. You gave me back so many things I’d thought I’d lost forever. Let me do that for you. Let me give you back the strength you lost. The belief in yourself that Khalid took from you.”