“No one knows this place exists, do they?”
Resuming his slow tread, he shook her head. “Only us and a handful of servants.”
“And I’m not allowed to tell anyone that I have seen it.”
He reached her, and again she felt his gaze like a physical caress on her features. “No one will believe you.” Said with a simple smile.
She extended her arm and he looped it around his without comment. Drawing in a deep breath, they walked ahead. Every now and then, she felt him studying her. She slowed her stride to match his, the tang of sandalwood and his skin combined, brushing up against her senses every time their bodies grazed ever so lightly.
“Going away on a trip with me to an unknown destination without Ayaan’s protection or the buffer that the palace offers doesn’t bother you?”
“No.”
“And if I leave you here and disappear, as my brother fears?”
“I know you’re hurting, and you can’t see past your grief and guilt, but I know you, Azeez, probably better than anyone else. You won’t leave until Ayaan himself permits you to go.”
He didn’t jeer, or call it misplaced confidence. His fingers tightened over her arm and Nikhat returned the pressure.
Had they finally achieved some kind of peace with each other?
She was more than reluctant to go inside as they reached the walkway that led to the foyer of the palace, when an echo of laughter and conversation reached her.
The high voices sounded familiar and yet…
Tensing, she clasped Azeez’s hand and moved to stand behind him. “I thought we were supposed to be the only ones here.”
Tugging at the hand that she had laid around him, Azeez met her gaze. “Go in.” He ran a finger over her cheek. He inclined his head toward the palace. “Everything you require should be inside.”
Suddenly, she didn’t want to bid him goodbye just yet. “I would like to come with you. Wherever you’re going, I’m sure I can be of help.”
He shook his head, a small smile digging grooves in his cheeks. She locked her hands at her sides when all she wanted was to trace those grooves.
Was it so wrong if she did? The attraction between them was as strong as it had ever been. Why deny them both what they wanted?
“Nikhat?”
Heat suffusing her skin, she met his gaze.
“I need to be stealthy. And you, with your big eyes and your modern attitudes, you will be hard to blend in. I will return in two days. In the meantime, enjoy your stay.”
Nikhat nodded as he left. Before she could utter another word, she heard her name behind her. Stunned, she turned and saw a woman of around twenty run down the stairs. Her heart crawled into her throat, her chest felt hollow, her head dizzy as the woman’s long legs ate up the stairs.
Before she could draw another breath, Nikhat was enveloped in two pairs of arms, laughter and surprise rolling around her. Grabbing Noor and Noozat, her youngest sisters, she looked up and saw Naima, who was four years younger than her and closest to her in temperament.
Joy and excitement and shock and gratitude—everything barreled through her, robbing her of speech.
Tears fell onto her cheeks and Naima’s gaze met hers, shining with her own. Nodding and sometimes replying with a yes or no, Nikhat hugged her sisters, her heart incredibly tight in her chest.
Between Noor’s questions about her return, and Naima’s silent speculation, Nikhat turned around, hungry for a glance of Azeez. But he was already gone from the bridge and then she heard the squeal of tires. Wiping at her cheeks, Nikhat followed her sisters inside, her heart bursting to full with gratitude and something more that terrified the life out of her.
She wanted to crumple to the floor and howl. Because she was being tested again.
A rush of self-pity drenched her and for once she had no strength to fight it with. She didn’t want any reminders of his kindness, she didn’t want to remember how magnificently glorious it felt when his gaze was on her, of how effortlessly he could reduce her whole world to himself.
She had already begun to see flashes of the man he had once been and she couldn’t fight her attraction anymore. He was magnificent, he was kind and he was honorable.
How many times was she supposed to walk away without taking anything she wanted? How many times would she have to break her own heart into tiny little pieces?
She had trained herself to find satisfaction in her work and she did. She pushed herself every day to strive harder and to set new goals. She had made a life for herself. And yet, being in Dahaar brought out a loneliness she was too exhausted to see in New York. It settled deep into her bones.
And it was because of him.
She knew that. Despite every assurance she threw at herself that this time she was prepared, that she had walked away once, she still felt herself wavering, weakening and wishing for things that never could be.