THE DEMON'S LEGACY
Chapter 18
Dr. Haqqani arrived in the late afternoon, shortly before the first of the League's regional commanders. Talia accompanied Bane to meet each of the League's men at the front door. Those who had arrived in time shared the evening meal with Bane, Talia, and Maysam. Abrams—while invited to table—declined on grounds of being an outsider. Barsad had his meal with Sanjana.
In an effort to change Abrams's mind, Maysam said, "I am not a member of the League, either, Aaron."
"No, but this is your home; you are the hostess."
Talia had no more luck than her grandmother at convincing Abrams, even when she pointed out that, technically, she was also not a League member.
"Nice try, Talia," Abrams had said with his crooked, harelip smile.
After the rather lavish meal—Maysam did like to impress guests, especially because she hosted so few since Bane and Talia had moved in three years ago—all shared coffee and casual conversation. The topic of Nyssa was purposefully tabled until all were gathered for the council tomorrow morning.
Talia begged off earlier than Bane, tired from her own travels the previous night. Henri allowed her to leave without him, for he was too busy wrestling with Guy Giroux, the League's European commander.
Before retiring to her suite, Talia visited Barsad and his family and spoke with Dr. Haqqani. Everything the physician said about the baby's health was positive, good news that would help Talia sleep better tonight, regardless of her newfound half-sister guarded at the far end of the hall.
Her head had been aching since first seeing Nyssa, so she took some aspirin, then stripped off her clothes, pinned up her hair, and headed down the suite's hallway to the spa.
The spa's décor was of a Middle Eastern flavor. A rectangular space with white marble floor and low ceiling, ivory pillars framing archways of muted golden brown, the in-ground spa also rectangular. The pool was large, surrounded by a raised, dark-brown marble edging that was broad enough to be used as a place to sit. Pillar candles of various sizes had been placed around the pool on this edge, their flames flickering against the reflective surfaces of both water and marble, lit by Hisham, who knew her desire for the spa whenever she returned from travel, even just the shopping jaunts since Henri's birth. Neatly rolled white towels waited, stacked in plush pyramids near the gleaming handrails that led into the pool. The same ivory columns that surrounded the room also supported a separate, lower ceiling over the pool where recessed lighting through decorative lattice covers offered muted illumination. Speakers masked by the décor could fill the bath with music. Talia chose muted piano concertos then turned the jets on low to ease her tired muscles, the blue water beckoning.
With a sigh, she slipped into the water and swam the couple strokes it took to reach the far side of the pool. There she settled on the underwater ledge that provided a place to sit, leaving just her head and the tops of her shoulders above the surface. The warm water embraced her, eased her tension. The scent of the lavender and vanilla candles pleased her. She closed her eyes, surrendered to the music.
Though Talia used her considerable mental skills to continue to fight off thoughts of Nyssa while alone here in the spa, relaxed and vulnerable, emotions slipped past her wall nonetheless.
When Bane had given her the news, her defenses had instantly shut down her personal response, and she had focused instead upon what Nyssa's presence meant to the League and to Henri's safety. It had not been an intentional action, more of a self-preserving instinct, a result of the shock the news had given her. She had always had a man's ability to compartmentalize things, not surprising considering her formative years had been spent solely with men after her mother's death.
A half-sister. Why had her father never spoken of Nyssa? Had he truly known of Diya Panjabi's pregnancy? If Nyssa was to be believed on that point, had he been embarrassed by her? If so, why? Simply because she came from a poor background? Talia could not believe that to be the reason. No, it must have to do with Melisande. He may have concealed Nyssa out of fear that Talia might believe he had betrayed her mother all those years ago. Talia refused to feel shame about her father's treatment of Nyssa. Surely he had good reason to do what he did. She would not judge her father when he was unable to defend himself, and Nyssa had no right to do it either.
"There you are, my love."
Bane's deep voice filled the spa. His ability to move soundlessly always amazed her. She opened her eyes to see him in the doorway to the hall, smiling mildly at her.
"May I join you? Or would you prefer to be alone?"
"Of course not. Come in, darling."
As Bane crossed the room, he pulled off his shirt.
"Is Henri with Jiddah?" she asked.
"Yes, they are going to visit Sanjana and the baby. Then Maysam will give him his bath in her suite before bringing him to us. She knows how tired you are after this long, trying day."
"She's a life-safer."
"Indeed, she is."
Bane sat on a teak bench on the far side of the room to remove the rest of his clothes, revealing a burgeoning erection. As he descended the short steps into the pool, Talia admired his sculpted physique. Though somewhere around forty-eight years old now, his body was still awe-inspiring, like a mountain beaten and battered by extreme weather through millennia but undaunted by such abuse. As he walked toward her, his round belly pushing the water aside like the bows of a great ship, happiness and lust raised the corners of his lips in a smile he reserved only for her. The surgeon had done an admirable job restoring the fullness of those lips that Talia remembered from his youth when her fingers used to trace their pillowy softness.
Her body responded to his approach, her thighs opening of their own volition. She would have little time before Maysam brought Henri to the suite, so there was not a moment to lose.
Bane stood before her, his hands caressing her arms as he spoke in a quiet voice used only with his family. "I have missed you, little mouse."
"I wish you could have gone with me to France. It was so beautiful and peaceful."
"Perhaps I will accompany you next time."
Her hands drifted across his thick pectorals, fingertips teasing his nipples. She edged closer to him, her legs slowly slipping around him, drawing him to her. As she gently stroked his manhood, he growled with desire and leaned down to kiss her. She loved the feel of his mouth on her, no matter where he roamed. For so many years she had been deprived of such pleasures except for the rare occasions when he would remove his mask for their lovemaking.
She guided his engorged tip to her eager opening, tortured them both by rubbing it slowly against her. His kisses grew stronger, his fingers entwined in her hair, freeing it from its bindings. The gentle pulse of the spa jets added to the sensuality of the moment. Rachmaninoff blurred into the background, drowned by the sounds of their kisses and moans, the bubbling of the water. His animal scent filled her, overpowered the waft of chlorine.
Impatient as always for her, Bane enveloped her in his embrace, brushed her hand aside as he guided himself where he longed to be. She tilted her pelvis to better accommodate him, arms and legs around him, using her nails to grip his skin. With one hand braced against the edge of the pool and one arm wrapped around her to keep her from being driven backward against the edge, Bane thrust deeper, causing her to gasp.
Slow one moment, fast the next; Talia could barely keep in rhythm with him, but she knew that was his purpose, to keep her off balance and always guessing what he would do next. It was playful and erotic all at once, teasing her to the brink then denying her, causing her to beg; he was the only one who could make her do such a thing, and she loved it.
Beneath the churning water's surface, she gripped his firm buttocks, urged his hips faster. No more torturing her. It was time for her to demand; it was time for him to listen. Her own hips moved quicker, slamming into him, countering his almost leisurely gyrations. He had such command of his body. She did, too, but her willpower was no match for his, and by now she did not care about such strengths. Only one thing filled her thoughts as he responded to her aggression and matched it—surrender, surrender to him, surrender to her body's screaming need. Waves from his movements slapped against the lip of the pool behind her, spilling over. Bane's grunting thrusts nearly lifted her up, as if he intended to drive her from the pool as well.
Her outcries rose as he came, his breath, his guttural voice in her ear, incomprehensible, his chest heaving against her. Only after a long moment did his hold upon her loosen as he relaxed. Their hearts thudded wildly against each other's chest. Talia's strength ebbed, and she settled back on the ledge, Bane's arm still supporting her. Such a wave of release, contentment, and fatigue rode over her that she closed her eyes and felt oddly close to sleep.
Once his breathing returned to normal, Bane lightly kissed her cheek, murmured, "I love you, habibati," then settled on the ledge beside her, his arm still around her.
"I love you, too." She shifted her weight, pleased to have him to lean on.
They remained silent as they recovered, the pulsating water wonderful against her muscles. Talia felt completely relaxed, and again sleepiness weighed her eyelids, but Bane's voice broke through the veil.
"I am concerned about you, my love."
She drew in a long breath to help her stay awake. "Why?"
"Today you have received momentous news, very personal news, but you have hardly spoken of it."
"It was a busy day with the baby coming and our brothers arriving."
"Yes, indeed. But I believe your reticence was not merely because of those things. I want to know your thoughts about your half-sister."
"Well, the League—"
"No, my love." Bane hushed her with a slow shake of his head. "I am talking about you, not the League. You learned today that you have a sister. Such a revelation would shake anyone, even someone with your strength of character. When you spoke to Nyssa, I sensed anger and perhaps even some hurt. You feel your father betrayed you with his silence."
"No." She repudiated the assumption too quickly, but she was so schooled in deception that denial came instinctively.
"Speak only the truth to me, habibati. Anything else is a waste of time with me; you know that."
Talia settled deeper into the water, hesitated, staring across the pool. "To be honest, I've purposefully not thought about all of it until I came here to the spa. I didn't want to be distracted around Sanjana or our brothers."
"And what were you thinking about when I came into the spa?"
She sighed. "About Papa. I just don't understand why he didn't tell me. Maybe Nyssa is lying, and he really hadn't known about Diya Panjabi's pregnancy."
"Why would she bother to lie about that?"
"To make Papa look bad. She wants me to hate him like she does."
"Well, you can understand her bitterness toward her father, can you not? You once felt something similar, remember? After he excommunicated me. You held onto that anger for many years, just as Nyssa has."
"That was different. He treated you horribly, after all you did for me and Mama, and for him and the League."
"And Nyssa believes he treated her and her mother horribly as well."
"It's not the same. Her mother was some loose woman who probably got pregnant on purpose to try to entrap Papa. She wanted his money, no doubt. She wanted him to take her out of this place. Your motives, on the other hand, were pure and honorable."
"I was exiled because I disobeyed orders from a superior and killed that superior," Bane reminded her.
"With good reason. Damien Chase betrayed Temujin and sacrificed him for nothing except to hurt you. He deserved to die. You did what was right; you did what I would have done had I been in your shoes. And we also know my father was jealous of you, not just because of your abilities but because of your relationship with Mama and me. That was what really led to his decision. No, habibi, the situations are not the same. Nyssa is probably a gold-digger like her mother. Little else."
Bane considered her, the silence between them heavy with his displeasure. She turned away and pretended to be looking at something at the far end of the shadowy spa.
"You do not really believe that about her, Talia."
To change the conversation's direction, she turned back to him and said, "It almost sounds like you sympathize with her."
"Sympathy is a misnomer. What I feel is more of an understanding of her position, at least emotionally. Don't forget—your father wounded me as well. Not only did he exile me from our brothers and the life I loved, but he deprived me of the thing that meant the most to me—you, of course. All those lost years when we were apart… My purpose in life, even above my duty to the League, was protecting you. Being separated was like losing a limb—I felt that emptiness, that loss, every day, every hour."
"I know, habibi. I felt it, too."
"You missed me and my love for you, but I was not and never have been your purpose in life. But you have been mine since the moment you were born. Your father took that from me. I loved him, Talia, just as you did, when I was with the League. I wanted him to be the father I never had. But it was not to be, no matter how hard I worked to rise through the ranks and impress him. I was nothing to him but a grim reminder of a horrible tragedy and a perceived threat to his leadership. I believe Nyssa feels the same way about him. She loves her mother and feels that he betrayed her as well, that he dishonored her and condemned her to a life of loneliness and poverty. Perhaps he did. And I can't blame her for being angry with your father because of it. Can you?"
Talia could not bring herself to verbally agree with him, though she could understand what he was trying to make her admit.
"But don't confuse my understanding with sympathy for her plan. The blood that runs through her veins may entitle her to the title of the Demon's Head, but your training and the blood you have shed for the League entitles you to retain the title. I will try to convince our brothers of this."
"But you're forgetting something, Bane—I'm no longer the Demon's Head; you are."
"Yes, I command the League, but I have no true right to your title. Our brothers know this. I serve in this capacity only because of your wishes to step down. I would gladly surrender it to you, if you wish to reclaim it."
"If that's what I must do to convince our brothers not to allow this succession, then I will consider it. But you know how I feel about it all, especially because of Henri. My place is with him in his formative years. He will not be deprived of his parents as I was."
"Agreed." Bane kissed her disheveled hair, buried his nose in it. "You have sidetracked me, my love, skillful as usual. I first asked about your emotional response to having a sister, but you focused on the League instead. No more. Tell me what you are feeling. Can you look past your hurt and anger? Is there something more, some hope for a relationship with his woman? You share a father, after all. You are both strong-willed and formidable. You very well could have more similarities than differences, if you would just look for them."
"Even if I want to look for them, who says she does?"
"You are both on the defensive right now, cautious and looking for the other's motivations and angles. You have a child, so you cannot afford the recklessness that she can, thus your concerns are understandable. And I am not asking you to be any other way at this time. We don't know this woman, only the intel we have gathered. But you and I both know there is far more to a person than a dossier."
"You can't expect me to embrace her as my sister, Bane."
"You have no reason to at this point. All I am saying is that it might serve you well to not completely dismiss this woman. Perhaps showing some sisterly compassion might get her to lower her guard. And while you are doing it, you might discover something genuine between the two of you. Remember, I have half-siblings, too. When I was younger, I sometimes wondered about them. Granted, those times have faded, and I never truly knew my father as you knew yours, so there was no true bridge to connect me with my half-siblings, even if they had known about me. But you have that bridge, you and Nyssa. I am cautioning you not to burn it at the outset of this relationship. Stay cautious but openminded."
"I must say, habibi, you have surprised me through this. Your calm is legendary, but I would have thought something so directly impacting me—us—would have you more aroused."
Bane chuckled. "Oh, my dear, I am aroused. Let me show you." He pulled her to him, and she straddled him, grinning, kneeling on the ledge. "And I suggest we make further use of my arousal before that wild cub of ours comes looking for his bedtime story."
###
Abrams stared at the television in his living room but paid little attention to the John Wayne movie. His thoughts were on those who shared this floor of the palace with him, including Nyssa. He had tried to convince Bane to keep the meddling bitch on the lower level with the servants and kitchen staff, but Bane insisted she be given a regular room, not only because of her heritage but to provide sufficient space for Diya Panjabi to permanently join her daughter. If Abrams had his way, both women would have been eliminated by now. Their very existence endangered not only Bane, Barsad, and their families but also Maysam; she would, after all, be considered a criminal for harboring them.
Well, he thought, at least tonight they could sleep with even more confidence in their safety since the League's regional commanders were all here. Maysam had been a whirlwind of motion and orders once she had learned of their coming. Between periodically checking on Sanjana and baby James, she inspected each guest room before and after servants had prepared them, and she met with the chef to oversee the menu for her guests after grilling Talia about each man's tastes and preferences, things Talia tried to make Maysam understand she couldn't necessarily know. Then, as each commander arrived, Maysam had greeted him and acted the part of perfect hostess, moving with the energy of a young woman. Abrams grinned at the memory. The trip to Jaipur, Barsad's baby, and now the convening of the council had broken the recently-monotonous pattern of her daily life.
Jaipur. Abrams sighed and leaned back on the couch, fingers laced behind his head. The brief vacation had given him a fresh outlook on life, at least for the moment. Maysam's kiss had shocked the hell out of him, especially because it proved what everyone had been telling him—she was attracted to him. Why the fuck she was, he couldn't figure but decided not to give a shit and just enjoy it, at least while they were away from the palace those two nights. Now, back here, the kiss wasn't something he was going to bring up to Maysam, and if she had wanted to discuss it, she'd had no time since their return.
He relived their kiss many times. It had freed him of his doubts and relieved some of the intangible tension between them. Sharing it while he lay in bed had made it even more provocative. He hadn't slept a wink afterward, and the next night had been equally torturous for him, being in the same room with her, knowing with all certainty that she wanted him as he wanted her, but knowing that was not the place to act upon his impulses, even if he had been confident enough in her response.
Abrams got up and stretched, walked into the kitchen to get a fresh beer. Popping the tab, he shuffled back into the living room, downed a cold gulp before setting it on the coffee table. But, restless, he did not reclaim his place on the couch. Instead, he went to his veranda. By now, the night would be pleasant, and he was tired of air conditioning.
The glass door slid soundlessly open, and the night greeted him with heady scents from the gardens as well as the distant, faint smells of late-night cooking from the village. He could just barely hear the fall of water from one of the garden fountains. But then he caught the evocative scent of something much closer, something familiar.
Abrams's small suite was directly connected to Maysam's suite, so their verandas were not far apart. He was shocked to realize that Maysam, who normally went to bed long before he did, was sitting on her unlit veranda, her form just barely detected thanks to her living room light shining outward. Abrams silently retreated, though he wasn't sure why. It wasn't like they had never seen each other on their verandas at the same time. Yet that was before…before the kiss. That was then; this was now, and things had changed. Now if he was out there in the dark of night at the same time as she, maybe she would feel he was stalking her.
He cursed. Damn it, he wasn't some schoolboy. And, besides, it was his job to keep tabs on her. For her to be outside at this hour, alone…something was troubling her. And God knows, she had plenty to trouble her with that fucking Nyssa around.
Impulsively, he went to the door that adjoined their rooms, reached for the doorknob, hesitated. He would normally knock, but she wouldn't hear him from the veranda. Yet to enter without her permission when it wasn't emergent…
"Oh, for God's sake, Abrams," he muttered to himself. "Grow a pair."
With that, he opened the door into Maysam's salon. Not allowing himself to falter, he continued through another door into the living room. This was lit by only a small, dim lamp. He turned to the sliding glass door to the right, paused. Maysam sat just outside the door, still staring off into the compound interior. So he wouldn't startle her, he opened the door slowly, just enough for her to hear him say her name.
She turned in surprise. "Aaron? Is something wrong?"
He opened the slider a bit more. "No, nothing's wrong. I…I saw you out here; you're usually in bed by now, so I thought I'd check…you know, to make sure you're okay."
Maysam smiled appreciatively. "It's just been a long, full day."
"You could say that."
"Why don't you sit with me, Aaron? Obviously, you aren't sleepy either. You've always been a bit of a night owl, haven't you?"
"Yeah, I guess." The truth was, of course, he didn't sleep well, so he was never eager for his bed. He stepped onto the veranda
"Should I warm us up some milk and honey, or some chamomile tea?"
"No, I'm fine. I can get you some, though."
"No. Please, sit."
The temperature had dropped only into the mid-eighties, but the darkness and a breeze from the Thar Desert made it seem cool compared to the day's hundred-degree furnace heat. Below them in the courtyard, an armed guard walked his beat. Abrams hoped the man hadn't noticed him coming out to the veranda.
"Something's bothering you," Abrams probed after sitting in a chair on the opposite side of a small table. "I'm assuming it's either Nyssa or the baby."
"More Nyssa than the baby. I'm worried about the baby, but I think he will be all right. Dr. Haqqani seems optimistic, and he is a capable physician. I trust his prognosis. Actually, my concerns are more about Talia's reaction to Nyssa than Nyssa herself."
"How has she reacted? She hasn't said anything around me."
"That's just it, Aaron. Such a shocking thing for anyone to learn—having a sibling your father kept from you—but she's said nothing to me about how she feels about it."
"Well, I think she's probably protecting you, and maybe herself, too, especially since you were entertaining guests. You know Talia—she doesn't exactly wear her heart on her sleeve. She'll probably open up to you after the council makes its decision tomorrow."
"I hope so. I just wish I could have talked to her about it all today, maybe for my own sake as well as hers. Hopefully, Haris is giving her the opportunity to explore her feelings on it."
Abrams hid his small smile in the darkness. He figured Bane was allowing Talia to explore something, all right, but it had nothing to do with Nyssa. On sleepless nights when he sometimes roamed the palace, Abrams had heard them "exploring" each other when he would pass by their door.
"The truth of the matter," Maysam said, "is that I am angrier toward Talia's father than I am toward Nyssa, though I am certainly not pleased with her intrusion into our lives. It's his fault, all of this. And I do mean all." Anger had raised her voice slightly. "From my daughter's condemnation, my marriage deteriorating because of it, her death, Talia's years of torment in that horrible prison, Haris's injuries and his excommunication from the League. Everything. Now this illegitimate daughter. If he were here today, I would be tempted to push him off this veranda."
Abrams believed she would. To him, Maysam was a wonderful blend of soft outward femininity and inward kick-ass Wonder Woman.
"Well," Abrams said, "no sense in being angry with a dead man, though I see your point. Try to focus on the present. What do you think the council will decide?"
"I can see it going either way. The brethren revere Haris; they will want to retain him, but is that even a viable choice, since he is not a part of Henri Ducard's legacy?"
"So, it's either Talia or Nyssa, then?"
"Probably."
"Would Talia really go back to that? She seems to finally have gotten comfortable in her role as mother. Well, maybe except for some of the trouble Henri's been giving her, but the kid seems more respectful since she got back. I think her going away and him spending time with just his dad made an impression on him, as much as something can on a two-year-old."
"It could come down to pride, I am afraid. Talia might reclaim her title just to deny Nyssa. Nyssa has no League training, of course."
"But she could be trained, couldn't she?"
"If the council sees fit."
"Sounds like a lot needs to be figured out, and that won't be done by you or me."
"You're right, Aaron." She forced a smile. "As you often are."
"Often?" He grinned. "Always."
They both laughed.
After a companionable silence, Maysam said, "Thank you for coming over. I needed your voice of reason. Are you sure I can't get you something?"
His thoughts immediately went to things other than food or drink, causing him to shift in his seat and clear his throat. "No, I…I'm fine. Thanks."
"You know," she said slowly, "we haven't had a chance to talk about Jaipur."
"Jaipur?" he stalled.
"Yes, Jaipur. When I threw myself at you."
"You didn't throw yourself."
"You were in a vulnerable position, and I took advantage of it. It was shameful."
Abrams laughed. "Hardly. You didn't hear me complaining, did you?"
"You're too much of a gentleman to complain about an old woman being foolish and improper."
"One, I'm no gentleman; and two, you're not old."
"My aching knees and gray hairs would prove otherwise. And you are a gentleman, Aaron. Don't try to convince me otherwise."
"So, you kissed me. What's the big deal?"
Maysam seemed taken aback. "It meant nothing to you?"
"No, no, I'm not saying that. I enjoyed it. Hell, yes. What I'm saying is, you shouldn't beat yourself up over it."
"Very well. I won't. But what shall we do about it?"
"Do about it?"
"Yes. Will we go forward or forget what I did?"
Abrams squirmed a bit. "There's no need to forget about it. I know I won't. But…I'm your employee, Maysam. Your family and your in-laws would be pissed if you got into a personal relationship with someone like me."
"Someone like you?"
"Yeah, an infidel, an employee, someone below your station. All of the above."
"I am no young girl who will be dictated to by men."
"But they could toss you out of here if you tick them off."
"Nashir would do no such thing. We have a good relationship."
"In every way except for the thorny subject of harboring international criminals who could compromise the El Fadil consortium. I wouldn't want to be the one responsible for causing trouble in your family."
"Talia, Haris, and Henri are my family, Aaron. And Barsad and you. Yes, I love my brother and his children, and I am fond enough of Nashir, but they are not my priority. You know whom I would choose if I had to make such a choice."
He was touched by her inclusion, to mention him in the same breath as the others.
"Aaron." She leaned across the table. "I am not talking about marriage here. I am just saying I don't feel there is anything wrong with the two of us…enjoying each other's company. We are both alone and have been alone a long time. Don't you feel lonely when you see John and Sanjana or Haris and Talia together? Don't you wish you had someone, too?"
"I dunno. Guess I haven't thought about it as much as you have. But, sure, I admit now and then when I'm around them, I…think of things."
Maysam raised a coy eyebrow. "Things?"
"Things."
"Are you really going to let my brother and my in-laws dictate our happiness?"
"I don't want to cause trouble, and I don't mean just with Ayman and your in-laws. If my behavior jeopardizes you, I'll have to answer to someone even less pleasant, you know."
"Haris?"
"Of course, Haris."
Maysam softly laughed. "You mean, you are afraid of that little boy you lived next to in prison?"
"Yeah, that little boy who grew into a grizzly bear, that's the one. One swat and off goes my head."
"Oh, Aaron, Haris would understand. He and Talia have been encouraging our relationship for a while now, and so has Barsad. He's the one who suggested I go to Jaipur with Haris and Henri because he knew you would feel obligated to accompany me."
"That's my job."
"Yes, but it's not like I had no protection—that grizzly bear you just mentioned was with me, along with his men."
Abrams huffed and squirmed again, trying to think of a rebuttal.
"I want a closer relationship with you, Aaron, but perhaps I have misread your desires."
"No, you haven't."
"Then why the excuses?" She paused. "Perhaps there's something you aren't telling me, maybe something that had to do with that nightmare you had in Jaipur."
Her unexpected observation shook him, and he was glad for the shadows that hid his reaction.
"I don't have a great track record with women, Maysam. Isn't that obvious?"
"Am I like the other women you claim you failed with?"
"Hell, no."
"Then why would you assume we will fail?"
Because, he wanted to say, I have failed at most everything in life.
"Why are you so hard on yourself, Aaron? We've all had failures in our lives. Look at my marriage and what my husband did to our daughter. But even out of that tragedy there's been good. If Melisande had not lived in that horrible pit, Talia and I never would have met Haris…or you."
"That hardly makes losing your daughter worth it."
"Perhaps Melisande would say otherwise if she knew how happy her daughter and her mother are right now because of Haris and you."
Exasperated by her persistence, Abrams said, "Why are you interested in me? I don't have anything to offer you. You're more intelligent, beautiful, loving—"
"And you are intelligent, handsome, and caring, though you'd like everyone to think otherwise. You try to hide who you really are, but I know. Whatever that nightmare was about, whatever the pit did to you, whatever relationships did not bear fruit…those things don't define you. You are stronger than all that. Give yourself some credit. And let yourself enjoy life. Neither one of us is young, so why waste time with trivial things like worrying about my brother and Nashir's family? I want to see you happy, and I want you to let me make you happy. I think I can."
"You have. This job might not be the most…exciting job I've ever had but being around you is exciting. You're everything I'm not, and I like that."
"Then quit worrying about all the reasons why we should not be together and focus on all the reasons why we should be."
"Well, I…I'll try."
"Good. It's a start, then. Now, I think I shall go to bed. You have made me feel better."
Abrams wished they could stay out here all night, but he followed her inside to the living room. The door to her bedroom and master bath stood open to the right, and he could see her bed, the covers pulled back.
Maysam turned to him, stepped close. Now in the light, he could fully appreciate what she wore—a silver silk nightgown with a plunging neckline beneath a black and silver wrap. She smelled of honeysuckle, clean and alluring, increasing his arousal.
"Will you at least kiss me good night, Aaron?" She touched his bare arm, moving her hand up his bicep to just beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt, her head tilted back, her loose hair flowing over her slim shoulders.
Abrams allowed a small grin. "Is that an order?"
"Oh, yes." Her dark eyes twinkled.
"Well, I can't disobey a direct order, can I?"
"Most certainly not."
A little awkward and slow, feeling like a great lump of ineptness, Abrams put his arms around her, and she leaned into him, closed her eyes. Their lips met, a bit chaste at first, then her lips parted, and he couldn't stop his eager exploration. She relaxed and become pliable beneath his hands, like a liquid that flowed around him, drowned him as their kiss intensified. He pressed her tighter against him, that closeness firing his passion even more, and he knew no matter what he had blathered on the veranda a moment ago, there was no way he was going to return to his room tonight.