“Normal? What is so good about that?”
“Everything.”
She closed her eyes as his hand trailed her face, around her eyes and mouth.
“There is nothing ‘normal’ about you.”
“Don’t say that,” she whispered.
She felt his lips on her eyelids, still closed so that he couldn’t see the hurt that his words had caused.
“You are extraordinary in a very positive, exciting, way. Ordinary to me is something of no interest. Open your eyes.”
She did. “Then perhaps we’re two misfits together.”
He smiled. “Perhaps.”
It still hurt. She shifted away as the plane bumped twice onto the tarmac and the sound of the brakes filled the cabin, the roaring awaking Matta for a second time. She was glad of Zahir’s distraction as he lifted Matta into his arms and sat him on his lap to look out the window.
She didn’t want to be a misfit. She wanted to feel normal.
“So, Matta, what do you think we should do first in this beautiful city?”
Matta rubbed his eyes and peered out the window. “Don’t know.”
“Something very special, I think.”
“Food?” suggested Anna.
Zahir laughed. “Of course. And what else, hey Matta? You remember what we talked about last night?”
Matta’s eyes brightened. “Disneyworld!” he shouted.
Later that afternoon, with Matta nodding sleepily on top of Zahir’s shoulders, they walked through the leafy streets of the Marais district, only one bodyguard following at a discreet distance. A rich light flickered through the canopy of sun-scorched leaves onto the bustle of commuters, shoppers, and people just stopping and staring at the district’s beautiful historic buildings.
“So where exactly is your house?”
“I keep two homes here. One for the family is just off the Champs-Élysées and one for me.” He turned to the old building facing them. “Here.”
She looked up at the four-story building. “Some house.”
“I wanted to be in the midst of things. There is more life here for me.” Scooping Matta over his head, he held the sleeping boy in his arms and, after punching in a security code, entered the large courtyard, complete with huge tubs of orange trees. The security guard immediately entered an adjoining building, leaving the three of them alone for the first time.
Anna looked around the huge open-plan space in amazement. “Wow. I would never have believed this existed inside a seventeenth-century building.”
The ostentatious seventeenth-century façade had given way to twenty-first century living inside. The black-painted wooden floors, together with the white plaster walls and minimalist furniture spoke simplicity and luxury at the same time. It was Zahir through and through.
“I had it redesigned to suit my needs.”
“And you need a lap pool down the length of the house?” said Anna as she walked over to the glass wall that separated the pool, lit from overhead by a high, domed glass ceiling.
“Of course. I love water.”
“A desert king who loves water.”
“All desert kings have the greatest respect for water.”
Zahir let Matta gently down onto the couch and covered him with a soft angora throw. She smiled and leant back against the wall. She loved watching him with Matta. Once he was settled he snuggled down for a sleep, tired out from all the excitement and candy.
“Your home is beautiful.”
He smiled, his lips sexily curling as he approached her and pulled off her jacket from around her shoulders.
“I like beautiful things. Particularly when pared down to their original state.” He threw the jacket onto the leather couches before slipping his hands around her body.
She wriggled away, laughing. “I have to get Matta to bed. He’s exhausted. Just as well he ate well earlier. He’s out for the count.”
Zahir scooped him up gently. “I’ll take him to bed.”
Anna took a sip of her wine and watched the flames of the fire lick up the chimney, lighting stray pieces of filmy stuff that stuck to the chimney before sending them up, into the sky overhead. She’d always loved open fires and although it was still summer Zahir had indulged her.
She yawned and stretched out on the rug. She couldn’t remember when she’d felt so relaxed. She smiled as she listened to Zahir say goodnight to Matta in Bedu through the intercom. It was followed by a silence in which Anna just knew that Zahir had kissed their son. She closed her eyes, feeling them prick with emotion. It was all she had ever wanted and it was all that she’d never dared dream.
Anna didn’t hear Zahir re-enter the room. She didn’t need to. She felt his presence as if it were something tangible—a shift in the air, a tensing in the ether. He slipped his arm around her and joined her on the floor in front of the fire.