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Seating himself next to her, he ignored how stiff she went. There was a wicked joy in making her brazen act falter. “When did you learn Arabic?”
Her sharp profile softened as a gentle smile wreathed her mouth. “When I lived with your dad. He practiced...” Her eyes shimmered with an aching fondness as she swallowed and corrected herself. “He used to practice with me all the time. He taught me a lot of bad words and said I needed to use them against you.”
“He always liked you.”
“Helovedme.” Her conviction shone so bright and clear that Nasir was taken aback. “He loved me as if I were his own daughter. He’d call me and text me and send me little gifts. Even though you forbade him to have any contact with me.”
The profound ache in her tone made Nasir swallow hard. “You kept in touch?”
Her smile grew bittersweet. “Usually me venting about how the world was unfair and he’d remind me that the world didn’t understand how wonderful I was.” The love in her eyes made him feel like he was lost in a sea of emotions he’d willingly turned off inside him.
Ithadbeen his condition when his father had reconciled with his mother that he never have any more contact with Diana or her daughter. On an intellectual level, he knew why he’d insisted on that. Diana was destruction itself. And yet, he hadn’t given a moment’s thought to the fact that Yana had gotten caught in the crossfire. He hadn’t wanted to punish her, even though she’d lied about him kissing her. He simply hadn’t considered the effect on her of taking away his father’s love.
“I did a lot of things wrong by you. I won’t shame myself further by offering excuses.”
“You thought I was beneath your notice. But he...”
“He what?”
She cast a quick look at Zara and the dogs, who were now playing on the terrace attached to the bedroom. “Izaz Uncle wondered if you never forgave him fully for leaving your mother. He thought the bond between you two never...recovered fully.” She held his gaze. “I believe he missed you.The real you, he’d say.”
Standing up and moving away from the bed, Nasir rubbed shaking hands over his face. Regrets coated his throat like thorny prickles. “Of course I forgave him. My mother wasn’t easy to love,” he said on a wave of grief. “I... I wish he had just asked me. I’d have told him that it was all to do with me. Not him. He was a wonderful father whatever went on between him and Ammee.” He turned to her, feeling caught between the sterile world he’d locked himself into and this new one where pain and loss ruled. “What else, Yana? What else did he say?”
“I’d console him by calling you all kinds of names.” Her mouth twitched. “And he’d defend you, say you’d just lost your way. That his warm, loving son was buried somewhere beneath the cold, hard one you’d become.”
And here was the proof—that the man who’d loved him with such depth, who’d believed in second chances, had thought Nasir had just lost his way. His father hadn’t approved of his lifestyle, or his marriage to Jacqueline, but he’d never interfered because he’d believed that everyone had a right to make their own mistakes. Unlike his mother, though, Abba’s concern had been about Nasir’s happiness.
Nasir had not just lost his way, he’d actively distanced himself from all the good things in his life. Because losing Fatima had been so painful that he hadn’t wanted to feel anything again.
A sympathetic murmur had him unclenching his jaw. He turned to find Yana looking at him with regrets in her eyes. That she could feel his pain when he’d been anything but kind to her...humbled him. “I didn’t say it to hurt you.”
“I know that.”
They stared at each other, she from her cozy position on the bed, he standing under the archway leading to the terrace, as if at a crossroads.
She’d always been an incredible temptation. Easy to resist because she’d always embodied the very drama and loss of control he’d abhorred. And yet now, in revealing his own flaws to him, she was revealing herself to him. Bit by tantalizing bit. Anything between them could only be temporary, yet she was here for his kid and he shouldn’t even indulge the mad idea in his head. But it was there, growing every second. He wasn’t even sure if he could walk away from her again, like he’d done last night.
“I’m glad you and he kept in touch,” he said, forcing his thoughts back. “That he could talk to you about...me.”
She nodded. And he could see questions fluttering on her lips, her curiosity in the arch of her brows. He waited. And waited. And waited. The Yana he’d known once wouldn’t have half the control she seemed to possess now. Even that felt like a loss to him.
Turning away to look at Zara, she said to him, “Why did you bring me to your bedroom?”
“I was as exhausted as you were.” He thrust a hand through his hair as she slowly untangled herself from the mess Zara and the dogs had made of the sheets. A toned thigh, the flash of her pink thong and the shadow of her nipples—the artless show she gave him was sinfully arousing. He cleared his throat. “I think I automatically brought you here because it’s the bedroom that’s attached to Zara’s.”
Distaste filled her eyes as she jumped from the bed as if it might take a bite of that delectable bottom. “Wait, this is the room you shared with Jacqueline?”
“No, I told you last night, remember, that I bought this castle for Zara after Jacqueline died. You know as well as I do that she’d never have moved out of Paris for anyone or anything.”
She kept moving until she was standing directly in front of shafts of sunlight. As if they couldn’t resist her, either, light beams drenched her, delineating every rise and dip for his pleasure. Golden dust motes created a crown around her stunning face. Her legs...went on for miles, and it was only the background noise that Zara and the dogs created that stopped his thoughts from crossing over to forbidden territory.
“If you can have the staff show me to a new room—” Yana stepped back as he approached, a frown tying her feathery brows. “What?”
He grabbed a colorful throw from the foot of the bed and wrapped it around her, tugging her closer until the edges met in front of her chest. But he didn’t let go. He didn’t want to. There was something incredibly arousing about arresting her in his embrace, in having her face him like this. Gathering her messy hair, he pulled it back so that the throw could sit snugly around her shoulders. The brush of his knuckles over her nape, her rough exhale coasting his lips, every moment was pungent with an arching awareness.
Tying the edges of the soft throw to hold it together, he backed away.
Licking her lips, she stared at him.
