Page 51 of Queen of Barrakesch
“Nothing I can think of…for now.”
“So…does the sex and the respect have to be mutually exclusive?”
She laughed. “Wasim…”
“I’m asking because I need to know how far I can push tonight.” He smoothed a hand under her abaya.
Imani cast a glance inside the house, but the great room was empty. The servants were all gone.
Wasim slapped her right butt cheek.
She flinched—not from pain, but from the delicious pleasure of the blow. “Are you asking if we’re on the sex part of the evening now that the conversation is over?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, we’re on the sex part of the evening,” Imani said softly.
With a wicked grin, Wasim stood with her in his arms, and she wound her legs around his waist. He walked with her back to the master bedroom and brought them both to a shuddering climax.
* * *
Wasim reenteredthe bedroom with a bottle of water. He handed the balance to Imani and she finished it off. He set the empty bottle on the side table, and she cuddled up next to him on the bed.
“I never got to tell you about my conversation with your sister,” she said, looping an arm across his chest.
Wasim rested against the pillows with one arm folded behind his head. “Tell me about it.”
She caught him up on her visit with Yasmin and what they observed with the women and girls. “The only problem is, she needs to get that money, and that’s where you come in. She needs you to get Parliament to include the additional funds in the budget so you can sign off on it.”
“She should be convincing them to do it, not asking me to do it.”
“But how do we convince them? Yasmin can’t get a single member to send a representative to talk to the women about how much they enjoy the program. Could you make them do it?” she asked tentatively. She really wanted the program to get funded to the levels Yasmin needed.
Wasim chuckled softly. “I could, but that would cause resentment and other problems down the line. I’m already in Parliament’s crosshairs, and I have to pick my battles. And though I could dissolve the entire group and start from scratch—like a certain Zamibian woman pointed out—that is the drastic, nuclear option. I think the best way to convince Parliament to invest more in the program is to let the women tell them in their own words what the literacy initiative means to them.”
“How? In a report they probably won’t read?”
Wasim was silent for a moment. Then he said, “Through commercials.”
“Commercials?” Imani raised up on one elbow.
“Yes. Film the women and the girls, and air the commercials on television. Let them tell the whole country how much the program helps them by giving examples. Then present the needs of the budget. Not every member will be swayed, but it’s a good way to pressure the dissenting members of the body to get them to do the right thing, without actually pressuring them.”
“That’s sneaky.”
“Sometimes you have to be sneaky.”
“Okay, but I don’t know if Yasmin has money to do commercials. I have to check with her.”
“If she doesn’t, we’ll find the money from somewhere. There are multiple miscellaneous accounts, or we could shift the money from another program. We’ll figure it out.” His eyes were indulgent as he smoothed a strand of hair back from her face.
“Thank you,” Imani said.
“I’m not doing you a favor. It’s the right thing to do.” He studied her face. “You have something to say?”
Imani wanted to sort through the words before she spoke. Finally, she said, “I have a very odd relationship with my father. He loves me, but he treats me like I don’t matter. Like my ideas are silly—noble, but silly. And why would a woman have to worry about independence when she can have a man take care of her?”
“And you don’t want a man to take care of you?”
