Page 6 of At the Sheikh's Command
Would he remember, she wondered, staring critically at her appearance? She shook her head to rid it of the sentimental notion. What did it matter? That was very much in the past. It didn’t matter if he remembered that evening eight years ago or not. This was simply the most appropriate choice of dress for a formal dinner. Nothing more.
The knock at the door was repeated. Time to go.
She was barely aware of the transformation of the gardens she passed as she followed the servant. By day, their symmetry and design was exquisite, but by night, through lights and shimmering reflections, they became something else entirely. From something concrete, they’d become something ethereal and insubstantial.
She even failed to be awed by the towering columns which supported the centuries old, richly decorated rooms through which she walked. She had only one thought in her mind. Keeping as far away from Darrius as she could. She didn’t trust him, and she certainly didn’t trust herself anymore. Keeping apart from him would be made easier because there would be others there. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to talk with Darrius at all. The first meeting had proved traumatic enough.
But when the double doors to the great dining hall were opened from within by invisible hands who must have heard her approach, her heart plummeted as she realized exactly how much she’d underestimated Darrius’s anger. There was no one else in the vast, echoing chamber except the man who stood with his back to her, looking out the window to the distant hills, which were a charcoal smudge against the indigo sky. She could sense the tension in those broad shoulders from which hung an uncompromisingly plain robe.
The doors clanged shut behind her and she stood for a moment, wondering what she should do. Eight years stood between them. Eight years of silence, of regret, of recrimination and anger. And also, eight years during which her obsession with him hadn’t waned. She could feel those eight years, as if they were solid things, squashed into the small space which divided her from Darrius.
The silence was heavy, thick with tension, and sultry with heat. A trickle of sweat traveled down her back, as her breathing became uneven. Outside the room, the evening wind played in the trees. The lights danced in the swaying branches, appearing as troubled as she felt. She clutched her hands before her, all her usual confidence and pride disintegrating under the strain. She was no longer the ambitious cool-headed academic all her colleagues knew, but a young girl once more, at the mercy of her spurned lover.
“Do you remember,” he said, his deep voice startling after the silence, “the last time you were in this room?” He didn’t look at her. She guessed, as king, that simple politeness wasn’t required.
“Of course, despite trying to forget,” she added, as the mixture of sadness and joy mingled in her mind, stirring the emotions she’d worked so hard to repress.
“Forget? What exactly?”
She shrugged, refusing to join him on a trip down memory lane.
“You are silent,” he said. He looked around slowly, his eyes fixed on her while he turned to face her.
She should have answered him when he’d had his back to her. Because now, under the full force of his dark eyes, which seemed to strip away her clothes and all the other layers she’d placed between her and others, her thoughts had scattered completely. The subtle lighting created blocks of highlights and shadows across the planes of his face. His handsome features had grown harder over the years, more uncompromising. He had always been impressive, but now he was even more so. And the effect was messing with her mind.
“So what exactly do you remember of that last evening?” Adrenaline shot through her as he took a few steps towards her, forcing her to gather her thoughts. Why was he asking? It was as if he wanted her to talk about him, about them, about their relationship. She refused to give him the satisfaction.
“You had to leave early to go to the airport,” she said, lifting her chin defiantly.
“And you,” he said, his deep voice dropping and warming in tone, caressing her skin, “had to remain behind here, with my family.”
“Yes, well, I wish I could forget that part.”
He frowned. “Why?”
She shook her head. She had no idea why he was asking a question to which he knew the answer. Her parents had informed her of Darrius’s engagement, something which apparently had slipped his mind.
His lip curled. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. Your silence is enough to tell me it is your behavior which you wish to forget.” He nodded in response to her gasp. “Yes, my mother told me everything.”
“What did she tell you?” she asked.
His lips quirked into a humorless smile. “It hardly matters now, does it? But tell me, do you remember what we did earlier that evening? How we made love and lay in each other’s arms and planned the future? Do you remember that?”
How dare he? How dare he stand there and force her to remember the love they’d shared when he’d been engaged to be married all along? She gritted her teeth and shrugged.
“So you either don’t remember or you’re not willing to tell me you do. Which is it?”
She swallowed and dug her nails into the palms of her hands, like a schoolgirl trying to contain emotions which she’d forgotten she had.
“I haven’t forgotten the things we did or said. I have forgotten none of it. Though I’m surprised you remember, and even more surprised that you want to know if I do,” she said at last. “Why is that?”
He grunted and took a step towards her. The vast table stood between them, set elaborately as if for a state banquet, except there were only two settings at either end. Did he want the distance between them because he couldn’t bear to be near her, or because he didn’t trust himself, or her? She hadn’t a clue. But she had a feeling she was about to find out.
“Please, be seated,” he said at last.
Apparently she wasn’t allowed not to answer his questions, but he was totally at liberty to ignore hers. She sat down where indicated because what choice did she have? She’d walked into this trap.
As soon as he was seated, a team of servers flowed into the room, holding silver platters high above their heads. Sparkling water was poured into the crystal glasses and lean slices of meat and spoonfuls of colorful salad were carefully placed on the plates.
