Page 52 of Queen of Barrakesch
“I can take care of myself, and it’s nice to be seen as an equal. But it’s nice to have a supportive hand.”
“Never worry about that. You will always have my support.”
Satisfied, Imani rested her head atop his shoulder, happier than she had been in a very long time.
23
Imani felt the mattress depress as Wasim climbed in behind her. He had already stripped down to his boxers. His bare arms and chest enveloped her in warm, golden skin.
“You never sleep in your apartment anymore,” she murmured, tucking her bottom into the vee created by his hips and legs.
He slid a knee between hers. “I like it better in here. Everything is soft and smells so good.” He caressed her breasts under the silk nightie and nipped her neck.
Imani laughed softly. “I’m glad you like what you find in here.”
Most nights over the past few weeks, Wasim had slept in her bedroom. The only times he hadn’t was when he worked late and didn’t want to disturb her when he came in.
Over the past couple of days, they’d played host to the President of the United States and her husband. A formal dinner had taken place the first night and another one this evening, which wrapped up later than expected. Imani and the president’s husband had retired to bed, leaving Wasim and the president to continue their conversation. She hadn’t expected him to come to her tonight, but she was pleased that he’d broken away early enough to join her in bed.
“The only event on the agenda tomorrow is the breakfast, correct?” Imani asked, yawning.
“Yes, then another photo op, and then the president meets with other officials before she flies out in the afternoon.”
They were quiet for a few minutes and then Imani said, “I saw Yasmin singing to her baby today. She has such a beautiful voice.” Yasmin was now almost seven months pregnant.
“My mother used to sing to us all the time,” Wasim said quietly.
It was so rare that Imani heard him talk about his mother, her eyes popped open and she went still, waiting for more information. When he didn’t continue, she said, “Tell me more about her.”
He resettled at her back and when he spoke, she heard the smile in his voice. “She was happy all the time. She used to chase Yasmin and I around the palace and played with us and kissed us often. I can’t remember her ever raising her voice at me. She might get annoyed or wag a finger, but she always remained so…sweet.”
Imani smiled. “I take it she wasn’t the disciplinarian.”
“No. That role belonged to my father. My mother soothed our fears, kissed our bruises, and comforted us when we were sad.”
“How did she die?”
“She drowned.”
“I know that, but how?” Imani asked gently. She played with the tip of one of his fingers.
“On one of my family’s yachts in the Mediterranean. She and my father had decided to slip away for some private time without me and Yasmin for a change. My mother left first, and he planned to meet her later because he had to take care of some business. The night he was to arrive, somehow she fell over into the water. None of the staff knew it happened, and she couldn’t swim.”
Imani chest tightened as she listened.
“Not one person knew she was missing. Can you believe that? A yacht with over a hundred crew members, and not one damn person knew she was gone until my father’s helicopter landed that night and they couldn’t find her.” Rage simmered in his voice. “He was devastated. We were devastated. When he returned, he fired everyone on that boat.”
“I’m so sorry, but thank you for sharing that with me,” Imani whispered. She clutched his hand to her chest.
“That’s what I want for my children. A woman who clearly loves kids.”
“I love kids,” Imani said.
He pulled her closer. “Then lucky for you, you’ll be the mother of my children.”
“Lucky for me, huh?”
“Mhmm. Are you still going to Zamibia in a few weeks?” He threaded their fingers together.
