AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Tess thanked her, posed for a quick selfie, signed an autograph, and headed back down the trailer steps, leaving her drink behind.
Still no sign of Tarek.
She didn't know whether to be disappointed or grateful. This proved it—he'd felt nothing for her. He'd gone out of his way to make sure she could leave. This was all about her coming back to perform, and that was that. She was happy to help out Zahkim and Tarek, but she was heading home as soon as she could schedule it.
She closed her eyes, suddenly weary beyond measure. This was jet lag pulling at her. She was not going to feel sorry for herself. Tarek had given her some great memories and she'd have to hang onto those. And her songs. She gave herself a little shake and looked around, trying to determine her next move.
A stage manager in khakis and a badge with a big orange “STAFF” across the front approached.
“Miss Angel, we’re almost ready for you,” he said. “This way, please.”
She followed him to a spot off stage and glanced again at her watch. She should be on in a few minutes, if she'd gotten the time change right. She pinched her cheeks and started on some soft, vocal warmups.
T
he song being played ended, and applause broke out. She heard a voice over the PA system speaking mostly Arabic, but her name stood out. She pushed her shoulders back and strolled onto the stage, bright smile in place.
This, she knew how to do.
The crowd was a blur of dark motion and noise. She got to the mic and took hold of it to steady herself. She took a breath and closed her eyes. The crowd quieted. Glancing at the band behind her, she prayed they knew her latest hit, "Desert Diamonds.” She’d sent her set list in advance, so they ought to.
They did.
The guitar started first, and Tess started singing.
She lost herself in the music and the words. She gave herself up to them, utterly, as she had once given herself to Tarek. The drummers came in on the chorus, along with the flute and the oud. The world became nothing but her and the emotion—the joy of love, the bittersweet parting, the certainty that she and Tarek had been meant to find each other. She'd have that knowledge forever.
The last chord sounded and held. Tess lowered her head. For a moment, she could only hear the brush of the breeze over her ears. She looked up. Had everyone left?
The crowd broke into a roar. The sound slammed into her and almost knocked her off her feet. She hadn't performed the song live before. And she hadn't expected a reaction like this. It terrified her.
She managed a smile, a wave, and fled stage left.
Once out of the spotlight, she bent over and braced her hands on her knees, gulping down breaths.
"That was…magnificent."
Straightening, she discovered Tarek staring at her from two feet away.
He wore traditional robes, the flowing tunic and thobe, a white keffiyeh held on by the classic black, rope-like bands. With his beard, hawk-like nose, and those hot amber eyes, he was more than a sheikh. He looked every inch the ruler of his domain.
Tess caught a breath and pushed her chin high. She was supposed to do a full twenty-minute set, but she couldn't. She’d thought she'd be able to do this—be mature and rational. Smile. She couldn't.
Eyes stinging, throat burning, she ground out her words. "Thanks. Send my check to a scholarship for young musicians."
She started to brush past him, but he caught her arm. "Tess…"
Glancing down at his fingers on her, she pulled away. "What? Can you say something to me now you couldn't before? We're still from two different worlds, Tarek. Let's not make this harder than it already is."
He stiffened. "You're not going to let me do this my way. Very well, we shall do it your way."
She gave him a sideways look. "What do you mean?"
He strode onto the stage. Applause and cheering erupted. Crossing her arms, Tess thought about storming off. But her ride to the airport was in a royal car—she had a feeling Dabir wouldn’t take her anywhere until this was over. She might as well stay and listen.
Tarek held up his hands. He started speaking in Arabic, then switched to English. "My beloved people…"
Tess rolled her eyes. Great, he can call his people beloved, but not me. She didn't know if she wanted to cry or hit the man. He kept speaking, alternating between Arabic and English.
