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Authors: Lynn Raye Harris

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BOOK: Marriage Behind the Fa?ade
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“I’m going,” Sydney said. “There’s enough time.”

Alicia seemed relieved. “Good.”

Once Alicia was gone, Sydney’s mind began to race with everything she needed to do before she boarded the plane tonight. She had a meeting with a client at three, and then she would drive to Malibu. Once she toured the home and took the listing details, she’d have just enough time to dash home and throw some things together before heading to the airport.

Her stomach churned. What if Malik wasn’t in Jahfar? She had no idea whether or not he was, but she knew where he lived and she knew that when she arrived he would be alerted. And then he would return, and she would tell him she was a fool.

And she would pray it wasn’t too late.

Around five-thirty, Sydney parked her car in the driveway of the Malibu home. The house Malik had bought was just up the street. She’d passed it coming in. There’d been no activity, no cars in the drive. Not that she’d expected there would be. She fully expected Malik would sell the home in the next few months.

But it did have a gorgeous view. It was the kind of home she’d have bought if she’d had Malik’s money. A dream home. She could almost picture the two of them enjoying the sunset… and then enjoying each other. A flash of heat rocketed through her at the thought. Right now, the possibility of being with Malik again seemed remote and unreal.

But she was determined to try.

Sydney grabbed her briefcase and straightened her skirt before walking up the stairs to the door. She’d chosen a long sea-green sundress today and paired it with a white bolero sweater and low-heeled sandals. She would have to change into something a bit warmer for the long flight to Jahfar.

Excitement bubbled in her veins. And fear. What if Malik turned her away? What if he was through dealing with a childish wife? What if he was the one who wanted to move on now?

Sydney shook her head. No, she would not think like that. She would take the frightening leap and let everything happen as it may.

Sydney punched the doorbell, pasting on her best smile as she did so. The door jerked open. A dark-haired man stood in the entry, his presence making her nearly jump out of her skin.

She blinked, certain she wasn’t seeing him right. But no, he looked like Malik. Except he wasn’t Malik. He was tall, golden-skinned. His chiseled features were familiar, and not familiar. Handsome, like an Al Dhakir male.

Her heart began to pound.

“Hello, Sydney,” he said in a distinctly Jahfaran accent. “I am Taj.”

“I …” She swallowed, blinked again. He must have thought she was an idiot. “I’m pleased to meet you,” she said at last, though her throat was as dry as the Maktal Desert.

Taj smiled. He was, of course, breathtaking. “I have heard a lot about you,” he said, golden-voiced, golden-skinned, golden-smiled.

“You have?”

“Naturally. My brother talks of little else.”

She stopped in the spacious entry. Tears of relief pricked the corners of her eyes as her pulse thundered out of control. “Malik? Is he here?”

Taj tucked her hand into his arm and started toward the terrace. “Why don’t you come and see for yourself?”

Taj led her across a cavernous living room decorated all in white and onto the terrace. A profusion of flowers bloomed in containers, their bright colors framing the golden beauty of the man standing near the pool. Behind him, the ocean glistened in the late afternoon sun. Seagulls swooped in the distance, their piercing cries carrying on the currents.

Sydney’s heart turned over. Malik wore a tuxedo, of all things, and his hands were shoved into the pockets of his trousers. She wanted to rush into his arms, and yet she was paralyzed. She’d tried to find him for days, and here he was. Right here. So close to her and yet so far.

“If you will excuse me,” Taj said, “I must change clothes.”

Sydney nodded, but her throat had closed up and she couldn’t speak. Words, how silly. Who needed words? She couldn’t think of anything to say, even if she could manage to force the words out.

Malik’s gaze flickered behind her. He nodded once, and then focused his attention on her again. His dark eyes were hot, intense. She loved the way he looked at her. She loved him.

But did he love her?

And yet she was so relieved he was here, because she hadn’t been sure she would actually see him again. What if he’d turned her away without seeing her first?

But here he was. Her beloved. Her handsome, handsome husband. Emotion welled in her.

He crossed the distance between them and stopped. She’d thought he was going to put his arms around her, but they remained at his side. She ached for him to touch her, to speak. Her skin was so tight, so confining. She wanted to slip into him, become a part of him.

She wanted his heat and his power the way she’d had it in the desert. Her dress suddenly felt too hot, in spite of the breeze coming off the ocean. She wanted to strip. Right here, right now. She wanted so many things, and she had no idea where to start—or if he’d want to hear any of it.

“It’s good to see you again, Sydney,” Malik said, his voice caressing her name so sweetly. The way he’d caressed her body. The way she wanted him to caress her body again.

“I bought a ticket,” she blurted. Oh, God, where did that come from? Why had she said that? But her brain was refusing to function right. He was here, and she wanted to tell him everything, wanted to spill all her secrets and feelings and hope he felt the same.

He looked puzzled. “A ticket?”

She closed her eyes briefly. Clutched her briefcase. She needed something solid, something to remind her this was real. “To Jahfar,” she said, feeling embarrassed and stupid and ridiculous all at once. “I leave tonight.”

“Ah, I see. That will be a shame.”

“A shame?”

He reached out, his fingers ghosting over her cheek. She tried to lean into the caress, but it was too fleeting to do so. “I had hoped you would attend a party with me.”

“A party?” She looked down at her clothes. “I—I’m not dressed for a party.”

“I took the liberty of picking something out for you,” he said softly.

Sydney swallowed. This was crazy. Nothing made sense, and once more he wasn’t saying anything she understood. A party?

“What kind of party is it?” she asked, her throat aching with all she wanted to say. All she didn’t know how to say.

“It’s for us. It’s a celebration.”

Her pulse tripped along at the speed of light. If she kept feeling so many emotions, she was going to explode from the strain. “What are we celebrating?”

He smiled, and her belly lurched. Then he slipped an arm around her, pulled her in close. She tilted her head back to look up at him. Her grip on the briefcase loosened as he took it in one hand and tossed it onto a chair.

His sensual lips curved. “I know it is presumptuous of me, but I had hoped we could celebrate our marriage. Our lives together. Our happiness.”

A tear slipped down her cheek. “Malik—”

He put a finger over her lips. His heat seared her. Her body responded to his touch as if it had been starved for him. She felt liquid inside, fluid. Hot.

“Let me speak. This is hard for me,
habibti.
I am not accustomed to speaking of feelings.” His golden skin flushed, a muscle in his cheek jumping. But his eyes … his eyes were filled with things she’d never noticed before.

“Words are cheap. Words are meaningless. And yet I know there is value in them, when they are sincere. I’ve heard many cheap, meaningless words in my life. It has made me immune to words, perhaps. To my detriment, at least where you are concerned.”

He drew in a sharp breath. “I did not say what I should have said to you, and I have regretted that. I should have told you that my world went dark when you left it a year ago. That my pride kept me from coming after you when I should have. That I let too much time pass because I kept hoping you would come back to me. How could you not come back to me? I am Prince Malik Al Dhakir.”

He was mocking himself. She put a hand over his mouth to stop him. She didn’t like hearing him speak that way. “Don’t, Malik. Don’t berate yourself. We’ve both done stupid things. I should have never run the way I did. I was a child, as you said. I was impulsive and stupid.”

He smiled then. “I like you when you’re impulsive.”

“How could you? I behaved like an idiot.”

“But you also married me in one of those impulsive moments. Unless, of course, you think that was a stupid move. And I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

She shook her head. Then she looked down, at where her palms rested on his lapels. The fabric of his tux was soft, expensive. He smelled expensive, looked expensive. So regal, so handsome.

And she was so plain. Plain Sydney Reed.

He tilted her chin up. “Stop that, Sydney.”

“Stop what?”

“Thinking you aren’t good enough.”

“That’s not what I was thinking.” But she was, of course. She dropped her forehead to his chest. “I’m working on it, Malik. It’s a lifetime habit and I can’t change it overnight.”

“Listen to me, Sydney.” She looked up again, her breath catching at the intensity in his gaze. “You are the finest person I know. The kindest, gentlest and least selfish. I want to be with you. I want you in my life, today and always. But it won’t always be easy. You have met my mother. She will not change her mind about you, but know that I don’t care. I only ever cared for the way you would feel to know this, not because I was embarrassed or ashamed or regretful of
you.”

Everything he said made her heart swell. “Your mother doesn’t bother me. So long as you want me, I could care less what she thinks.” She bit her lip. “You do want me, right? You want to be married to me?”

He looked slightly exasperated. “Have I not said this?”

Sydney laughed softly. “I’m just double-checking.”

“What is there to check? I have told you how I feel, what I want. What I have always wanted.”

She reached up and ran her fingers along his jaw. There was more she needed to know, though it didn’t change the way she felt about him. “Why did you marry me, Malik? Was it to get out of another arranged marriage? Was I the most convenient choice? Or was it something more?”

He looked suddenly fierce. The breeze whipped up then, ruffling his hair. She ached to smooth it, but did not do so.

“I did not want to marry my mother’s choice, no. But I am far too old for her to truly be able to force me to do something I do not want.”

“But your brother—”

“Even a king cannot force a marriage if both parties do not agree.”

She felt as if a great weight had been lifted, as if there were no longer anything holding her down and she would fly away on a current of joy and happiness if Malik did not keep his arms around her.

“I love you, Malik. That’s what I was coming to Jahfar to say. And I know you care for me. I know because of the things you do, not because of the words you say. I completely understand now.”

“I’m not quite sure you do,” he said softly. “But I intend to show you.” And then he bent and kissed her, his mouth hot and possessive and so sexy it hurt.

She wound her arms around him, arched into him, her body greedy for him. He held her hard, tilting her head back as he kissed her so thoroughly she knew she would never be the same again. She wanted to rip his tuxedo off, get to the golden skin and smooth muscles beneath. She wanted to work her way down his body, take him in her mouth and then work her way back up again.

She wanted him inside her. She wanted to sleep curled up with him, and wake in his arms. She wanted to eat with him, laugh with him, be in the same room with him even if they weren’t doing or saying anything.

“Ahem.”

Malik squeezed her to him, his tongue delving into her mouth one more time before setting her away from him. Taj stood in the entry, looking resplendent in a tuxedo. He grinned, a brow arching in good humor.

“So you have decided to forgive my idiot brother, Sydney? This is very good, as he would have been embarrassed to arrive at the party alone.”

“Taj,” Malik warned.

Sydney laughed. “I think there are two idiots here, but yes, we’re going to the party together.”

“Wonderful,” Taj said. “Then shall we move along? Sydney needs to change, and our chariot awaits.”

 

 

 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

EVERYTHING went perfectly, though perhaps it should not have. Malik was very aware that he’d not said quite everything to her that he needed to say. He was still choking when it came to baring his heart, to stripping it raw and giving her the power to slay him.

He’d told her the truth, that he needed her and desired her and that his life was hell without her. But that wasn’t the extent of it. It was more than that. Deeper and more beautiful than he’d ever imagined.

He was a headstrong man. It had taken him far too long to admit to himself just why he needed her in his life. He’d been in love with her almost from the beginning. Not from the first moment, of course. Then he’d only wanted to get her naked. He didn’t apologize for it.

But somewhere along the way, she’d become vital to him. He’d known it deep down, even while he’d talked himself into thinking that he enjoyed her company and wanted her with him because she didn’t demand anything from him.

She’d been fresh and innocent in a way he’d never been, and he’d been drawn to her. From the first moment they made love, he’d felt the connection to her. She had felt it, too. That’s what had made them both so reckless.

He’d feared losing her, so he’d married her. And she had feared losing him, so she ran away when she thought she might. What a pair they made.

He watched her across the room. She was so beautiful and vibrant. She glowed with life and happiness. He’d thought, when he’d let her go in the desert, that he would never see her again.

She looked up and caught his eye, smiled that smile that drove him crazy for her. It was as if she smiled only for him, her eyes lighting, her entire face glowing with love.

Love. It was real, her love. He’d never been loved before, but now that he had, he wasn’t ever letting a day go by without rejoicing in that love. Basking in it.

His eyes skimmed over her, over the claret silk dress he’d picked. It was strapless, skimming her curves like a lover, glimmering like the stars on a clear desert night. She’d pinned her hair up, revealing the graceful column of her neck. Driving him wild.

He wanted to bite her. Gently, teasingly, making her moan and beg while he primed her body with his mouth and hands.

The hotel he’d chosen for the party was very exclusive, very
riche.
Their guests ate hors d’oeuvres, sipped champagne and laughed like they were having a good time. Soft light illuminated the room, caressed the form of the woman he loved. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Sydney stood near her sister, her arm looped in Alicia’s, smiling at something the gentleman talking to them said.

A hard rush of anger filled him when he thought of what Sydney had told him about her sister’s boyfriend. Malik had already made a call. Jeffrey Orr would never bother Alicia again. As much as it disgusted Malik to do so, he’d made sure the man got a job transfer he couldn’t refuse. He should be in the bottom of a prison cell, but instead he was getting a pay raise in a new location halfway around the world.

Malik would keep tabs on him, though. If he tried to harm another woman, he would find himself in the bottom of a cell. Because the country he was going to was a lot more intolerant than this one.

Sydney looked up and caught his eye. Her smile made him ache. It
was
only for him, he realized, that soft curve of the lips that said how much she wanted him. Needed him.

Loved him.

God, he was a lucky man.

She gave her sister a squeeze and then made her way over to him. He worked to smooth his expression, his emotions roiling inside as if he were a green boy who’d never been with a woman. He wanted her desperately, and he wanted her to know what he’d done to protect her sister. Thinking of Alicia made him angry all over again.

“What’s wrong, Malik? You look as if you could chew nails.”

He slipped an arm around her, anchored her to him as he dipped his head to kiss her. He would never tire of showing off his beautiful wife. “It is nothing. A business deal.”

He wouldn’t spoil the atmosphere of their party, but he would tell her later when they were alone. He didn’t think she would be angry at what he’d done, but he couldn’t be sure. And yet he would do the same thing again. No man should treat a woman the way Jeffrey Orr had treated Alicia. If he’d been Jahfaran, the punishment would have been infinitely swifter.

“You were very sneaky,” she said, smiling up at him. “I had no idea you were even in town. Alicia and my parents kept the secret quite well.”

“They love you very much. They are proud of you.”

“For what? For getting a rich and handsome husband?” She was teasing him, but he was deadly serious.

“No. For being who you are, Sydney.”

He could tell she didn’t quite believe it, but he would have a lifetime to convince her of how amazing she was. She would believe it eventually, just as he’d learned to believe he was deserving of love.

Her eyes sparkled in the soft light and he knew she was holding back tears. “I tried to call you.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “By the time I realized I’d missed your calls, I was here and the plans were in motion.”

“You could have called me,” she said.

He squeezed her to him. “No, I could not. I don’t do well over the phone, as you very well know.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, Malik, you have to learn sometime. It’s not all that hard.”

“Maybe it is,” he murmured in her ear. “Maybe it’s
very
hard.”

Her breath drew in sharply. “Do you think it would be scandalous if we left now?”

He made a show of checking his watch. As if he weren’t dying to get her alone as well. As if he had all the time in the world.

“I think we can safely go home now,” he said.

She grinned up at him, and his breath caught. How had he ever allowed her to leave him? How had he lived even a moment without her?

He lowered his head and kissed her. He intended it to be brief, but the instant their mouths touched, it was like setting a match to a fuse. She was soft, warm, delicious. His tongue delved into the recesses of her mouth, claimed her boldly and completely. She was his. Forever.

The sound of cheering and clapping brought him back to reality. He broke the kiss, more annoyed than anything.

Sydney ducked her head against him, her cheeks turning scarlet. “I think we should go
now.”

Malik laughed. “And so we shall.”

He bade everyone a good night before leading Sydney to the waiting limo. They were suddenly very quiet as the limo pulled away from the hotel. She moved to the other side of the car and he kept his place near the door. If he touched her in the darkened interior, they would go up in flame.

And he wanted to do this right. He wanted a bed, flowers, candles, champagne. He wanted everything to be perfect for her.

“I’d ask why you’re staying over there,” she said, her soft voice cutting into the night. “But I think I know.”

“I’m only a man, Sydney. I can only handle so much before I snap.”

She purred in the darkness, and he hardened instantly. “I can’t
wait
for you to snap.”

When they finally reached their destination, she looked at him wonderingly. The Malibu house gleamed in the moonlight as the limo came to a stop in the circular drive, its engine still humming quietly.

“It seemed appropriate,” he said with a shrug. “It is where we began this journey the second time. I am quite fond of it.”

They didn’t make it to the bedroom. As soon as the front door closed behind them, they were in each other’s arms, kissing, touching, removing clothes, revealing their bodies as they revealed their souls to one another.

Malik wanted to worship her properly, but everything seemed to go too fast. In no time, he was carrying her to the couch and laying her on it as she shifted her hips up to him and pleaded with him to end her torment.

“We need to slow down,” he said. Panted, really.

“No, no, I don’t want to.”

She wrapped her legs around him, her heels in his buttocks. He hesitated, wanting to remember this moment, the rightness of it. The way she looked as she lay beneath him naked, her nipples still glistening from his mouth, her lips swollen from his kisses. Her hair wild and free, tumbling down her back in a riot of flame.

Beautiful.
His.

“Malik, please,” she said. “Stop teasing me.”

And that was it. He surrendered. Utterly and completely. Malik lifted her to him and drove into her molten heat.

Bliss. Comfort. Rightness.

Love.

Sydney had never been so happy in her life. She lay wrapped in Malik’s arms, her body spent, her heart full. They’d found their way to the bed, but not before he’d opened the sliding glass doors to the outside. A soft breeze from the ocean whispered over them. It wasn’t cool, not after they’d been so incandescently hot together, but it was welcome.

The ocean crashed on the beach below, the waves eternal and endless. She’d thought of Malik as a wave, a relentless wave dragging her below the surface.

She’d been wrong.

He was relentless, but he wasn’t dragging her down. He was lifting her up, asking her to accompany him. To be by his side always.

She could do that. She intended to do that.

She turned in his arms, saw that he was awake. Watching her. Her heart did that little flip it always did when he was near.

“What are you thinking?” she asked, tracing his lip with her thumb. It hurt to love him so much, but she would learn how to live with the pain. It was a good pain to have.

“I am thinking there are no words to describe this moment with you. But I have to say the best ones I have, because they will come the closest to it.”

Sydney ran her hand over his chest, up into his hair. She loved touching him. Could never get enough of touching him. “Then they will be perfect, Malik. Because I know you would not use them otherwise.”

His white teeth flashed in the darkness. “Then I shall say them.”

He turned her onto her back, rose above her on an elbow and traced the line of her collarbone. Her skin tingled with pleasure. Though she should be burnt out by now, tongues of flame licked her from the inside out. How very quickly she wanted him again.

She put a hand on his chest, felt the hard beat of his heart.

“I love you Sydney. You made me believe in love when I didn’t think I ever would. And though I fear the words are not adequate, I love you.”

“Oh, Malik,” she said through a haze of tears, her heart squeezing tight. “They are perfect.”

“I am still, however, a proponent of action,” he said, dipping his head to suckle her nipple into his mouth.

“Oh, yes,” she gasped, clasping his head to her as her body spiraled higher. “So am I …”

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