The Sheikh’s Bargain Bride(51)

She reached up and tentatively stroked the feathers of the bird. They were not soft but held the tensile strength of a fine fabric designed for hard wear. Deceptive.

“He’s beautiful.”

“He’s a wild thing made tame. I no longer know if that’s a beautiful thing.”

She touched his arm then, insisting that he meet her gaze. “You can’t release him back to the wild any more.”

“No. It’s too late for that.”

She stroked the bird but kept her hand firm on Zahir’s arm. “He’s known your touch and will always crave it.”

Zahir abruptly dropped the hood onto the bird’s head and the bird immediately relaxed and his head sunk down into his body.

“Captive once more.” He turned to face her, his arm and the bird outstretched to the side.

She shook her head, absorbed in the beauty of Zahir’s face and body. He was as rugged as the land and as dignified and upright as his people. The wind stirred his headdress, the only thing that moved around a face that was hard and set. She turned away and looked out at the flat plains that stretched forever and wondered how she could have ever longed for what lay beyond them when what she’d wanted had been before her all the time. But, judging by his unmoving expression, she wondered if it was too late.

“Captive, or perhaps simply home now?”

His eyes narrowed further.

“Why are you here?”

“I told you—to collect Matta.”

“No here, in the falconry. You have no further business with me. I thought I made that plain.”

Shock slammed into her gut and she stumbled back as if physically struck and turned away, suddenly realizing she’d made a huge mistake by coming to see him. But the pain in her heart, that she rubbed instinctively, told her otherwise. Whatever he felt, she simply had to know for sure because she couldn’t go on without knowing. She turned back to face him.

“That was the only thing you made plain. Nothing is ever so black and white as you want to believe.”

He shrugged. “People over-complicate things. With us, it was simple. I never made false promises to you. We had a deal: I wanted you until I grew bored and you wanted your freedom. Well, that is what happened. And it did have to happen.” He added more quietly.

The remaining shreds of Anna’s strength dissolved with that final blow. She’d trusted her emotions in returning to him and she’d been wrong. She couldn’t believe that everything they’d had had come to this. But apparently it did. Zahir didn’t love her after all.

“I’m sorry. I—”

“I think you should go, don’t you? Return to Matta and then at the end of the week return to Paris as planned.”

“As planned,” she muttered under her breath. “So that’s it. I won’t be seeing you again.”

“While you are here of course you must join us for dinner.”

His cold civility was worse than any abuse. She was a stranger to him now and he couldn’t have made it plainer.

“Of course. I couldn’t think of anything nicer.” Two could play at that game.

He passed his falcon to a keeper to return her to the falconry and walked back with her to the palace. “I trust your studies are going well.”

“Of course. It’s all going to plan. Studying full time I should be complete my first year in six months.”

“And then you will have everything you’ve always wanted.”

She stopped. “No. No I don’t.” They had stopped in the public foyer of the palace and a sweep of cars suddenly entered the courtyard outside.

“I’m sorry, Anna. Let me know what it is you are lacking and I will have someone take care of it for you.”

“It’s not something someone can take care of. You can’t delegate this. I need to tell you something Zahir. We need to talk.”

“Not now. I have business to take care of. I will see you at dinner.” He nodded formally and turned away, all thought of her apparently forgotten.

She backed away, unable to tear herself away from him completely. She stopped in the shadows of the palace and studied his face. She wanted to remember every nuance of shade, every line etched by experience, pain and sadness and happiness on that face. She wanted to feed her soul on him because she knew her time with him was limited. She realized this might be the last time she ever saw him.

She watched as he greeted the small family group that emerged from the convoy of cars, bringing forth a gorgeous dark-eyed, dark-skinned young woman. It was obvious by the body language of all concerned that the woman was being offered to Zahir.

Anna couldn’t watch any more but turned and tried to walk without stumbling across the uneven paving of one of the older, disused paths around the palace, taking her away from Zahir and his guests. She felt numb, barely felt the sharp edges of the crumbling stone beneath her thin sandals or the blazing sun on her head. It was as if she had no physical substance, only deep, unadulterated grief. Somehow she made it back to her room. There, she slammed the door shut and concentrated on breathing, on slowing down the heart that threatened to burst from her chest.