“Of course I do.” She wouldn’t have recognized her voice if she hadn’t felt her breath against her lips.
“Then why do you look as if I’ve just struck you?”
“Because you have.” How could she convey her absolute shock at his offer for her to complete her law degree? The arrangements he’d made to have her come to Qarawan had all been on his terms, as had his taking of Matta from her, his anger with her, his desire for her—all had been on his terms. Now this.
This was for her.
“To appease your conscience?”
“I have nothing to appease my conscience about. I have done the best for everyone in getting you and Matta here. It is how our society operates. I had to do whatever it took to bring you both home.”
“And this is what you want?”
“Of course. I want you. I’ve been clear about that all along. But I want you to know that your life doesn’t end here. It goes on—with me. It goes on—with Matta. It goes on—with your studies.”
She looked down at the papers once more, not trusting herself to look into his eyes. She could feel the tears pressing against her lids. She shook her head. He came and stood beside her. She could feel his strength like a drug. All she had to do was reach out and take it. It would make her feel whole again. Something she hadn’t felt since she’d last slept with him. She wanted him to touch her. She willed him to touch her.
But he didn’t. He was so close that she could feel the heat from his body. She could see his hands flex, as if to control their movement—his skin rich and warm and tantalizing.
Whether he knew it or not, he’d reached the only part of her that was still vulnerable—the hopes and dreams ingrained in her since childhood. He’d reached that vulnerable part and broken down all the other defenses that she’d built against a direct line of attack upon her. She’d never anticipated that he’d do such a thing.
“Take the papers. They have all the information you need. I have arranged for you to study by correspondence. But you will also need to travel.”
“But Matta?”
“He may come with you, visit you if you are to be away for a while. But it hardly seems sensible if you will be focussing on your studies. He may as well be here with his family.”
She nodded and looked back down at the papers.
“You won’t need to attend the university in person immediately. Matta will be settled by then.”
“He seems pretty settled already.”
“Of course.”
“And that’s down to you. You’ve made him feel welcome, at home here. Thank you.”
“He is of my blood. This will always be his home. No need to thank me.”
“And thank you for this. It’s the first time that, well…”
She felt his touch then upon her hair and closed her eyes, feeling the smooth slide down the length of her hair like a gift of all she could desire.
“You have nothing to thank me for. It is you who will do all the work.”
“But you thought of me.” How could she tell him that no-one had ever respected her thirst for education, her need for independence, her hopes and dreams before.
He took her hand and pulled it to his lips.
He frowned. “And this is unusual?”
“You must know it is.”
“But your own family—they may have been dysfunctional but surely they cared for you?”
“Possibly. But they cared for their own brand of escape more.”
He considered for a moment. Frowned. “You were strong, then, not to choose the path of your mother and your brother.”
“Strong? No. Just different. Their lives scared me. And I was good at school. I had choices.”
“Everyone has choices.”
“No. They didn’t.”
His hands caressed her arms lightly. She could feel his breath on her skin; she could smell coffee and the earthy scent of his aftershave, a blend of leather and amber, creating a heady mix that made her feel dizzy with longing. He leant forward. She closed her eyes, her mouth softening readying for his touch. She felt his lips upon her forehead. The press was gentle; the touch lingered for one long moment, enough for her to want more. Her heart pounded heavily in her chest, once. Then he drew away.
“Come. It is time for bed.”
As if in a dream she felt his hand lightly draw her to him as they left the library, heading back to their private quarters. Moonlight flooded the corridors, slanting its beams across the passageways, revealing a gentle magic to the imposing palace, a seductive magic.
They walked in silence until they reached the courtyard garden that divided their rooms. The gentle sound of water splashing in the fountain broke the heavy stillness of the night. The white blossom of the jasmine and orange trees appeared almost luminescent under an indigo sky filled with the brilliance of a new moon and innumerable stars. Anna had never seen so many. It seemed in the darkness of the desert that light, of any kind, shone more brightly. She looked up into his eyes whose own darkness was now rimmed with the same silver light.