“Anna, it is so lovely to meet you at last.” Fatima rose and kissed Anna’s cheeks. “May I call you Anna?”
Anna’s smile relaxed with relief at the warmth of Fatima’s greeting.
“Of course.”
“Not ‘of course’ at all. You are now my elder sister, despite the fact you are so much younger.”
Anna raised her eyebrows in surprise.
“But you are a westerner, you do not know our ways. Did my brother—Abduallah, that is—not explain anything?”
“A little. He didn’t talk much about his home although I knew he missed it very much.”
“And we missed him. We wanted him home very much but Zahir was unable to persuade him to return.”
“No. He…” Anna trailed off instinctively wanting to talk with Fatima about Abduallah, tell her all the past that only she knew and that she desperately wanted to share with his family.
“There is no need to explain. Zahir said that Abduallah wouldn’t return because he was happy where he was.” Fatima shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. All I know is that he was not like Zahir and Zahir did not understand him. But,” she inclined her head, intimately towards her, “we women do. And Matta? I was surprised…” Her voice tailed off.
Anna looked at her warily, noting the curiosity in Fatima’s eyes. So at least one member of Zahir’s household suspected. Probably the only one, judging by the way she watched those around her.
“Well, it’s complicated...”
Fatima touched her on the arm. “I did wonder and I mean no disrespect by my doubts. It was simply a feeling I had about Abduallah but it was obviously unfounded. I can see Matta is truly my nephew. But come, enough of this I am letting my tongue run away with me.” Fatima nervously sipped her water, suddenly realizing that she’d gone too far.
Anna put out her hand on Fatima’s and squeezed it. “It’s OK. I’m not offended. I appreciate your honesty; I understand your doubts but you are right, Matta is, truly, your nephew.”
“Yes, of course he is. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”
“Forget it. Tell me about yourself. Why did you come back here? You were living in Riyadh were you not?”
“Yes. For ten years until my beloved husband died but he left little money and three children. Zahir insisted I return home.”
“He seems to make a habit of that.”
Fatima looked surprised at her implied criticism.
“Because he is sheikh; because he protects and cares for his family and people. My life has been far from easy and he has always looked after me, even if from a distance. You are in safe hands.”
Anna searched the care-worn eyes and smiled, moved by the directness of this woman whose sadness was countered by a happy nature very different to her elder brother’s.
“I am glad you are my sister. It’s good not to feel alone any more.”
Fatima looked shocked. “Alone? But you have your family in the United States, you had Abduallah and now you have Zahir.” She laughed. “I cannot believe you feel alone.”
“Believe me,” Anna half-whispered turning to Fatima completely, “my family is not so numerous as yours, nor so close. And Zahir, well, he’s a busy man.”
“For you, no.” Fatima bent her head to speak confidentially to Anna. “I have never known him stop working—until now. He was at war for much of his youth. And then when peace came, he had to ensure we became wealthy once more. It was just how it was. It’s only now, with you, that I’ve ever known him to take time away from his business.”
“I guess he wants to make sure I don’t go anywhere.”
“And where would you go? Why would you want to? No, he wants you. See how he looks at you.”
Anna looked up and caught Zahir’s gaze. His dark eyes were focussed on her, watchful as always, but they held a different quality tonight. She tried, but couldn’t look away. Perhaps it was the glow of the candles that gave his expression a seductive warmth. Or perhaps it was her own need for reassurance in these alien surroundings among strangers. Whichever, his gaze, while still heated, didn’t sear tonight but rather enveloped, wrapped around and held her like the warmth of a desert breeze once evening had fallen.
The gentle touch of Fatima’s hand on hers broke the spell.
“You see? You have nothing to fear about loneliness, ever again.”
Anna was shocked at Fatima’s words. It had been her need to break the connection with her family that had driven her hard for independence and freedom. But now, the tentacles of family and relationships were slowly winding their intrusive bonds around her, drawing her closer to them. She sipped the iced water, relishing its chill effect down her body, trying to calm the rising panic.