CHAPTER TEN
INO couldn't look away from his remarkable face with the dark black eyes. He was so quiet, so controlled. She'd had no idea he'd been through so much. Another man might have been angry, bitter, cruel, but Sai had accepted the tragedies with grace.
Baraka, she whispered to herself. Baraka, Hanako had once told her, meant Grace and peace. Sai had that peace, didn't he?
"There are dangers, of course," he said after a reflective silence, "but we all face danger at different points in our life. The secret is to be aware of the danger, to know how one is vulnerable, and then embrace truth, and life, and move on."
He rose, took her hand in his, and tugged her to her feet. "You still look hot, laeela. Let me take you to your room. You'll be pleased to know you have your own private swimming pool."
It was good news and Ino look a long, leisurely swim before dinner. The bottom and sides of the pool had been painted a sapphire blue and as Ino floated on her back, she stared up at the high pink stone towers surrounding her, one tower covered in purple bougainvillea, while climbing roses draped another tower wall, the petals the palest shade of pink. With jasmine and sweet orange blossoms scenting the air. And the setting sun painting the ancient walls a dusty red. Ino closed her eyes and felt… bliss.
Baraka, she whispered to herself. Grace and peace.
Ino was to meet Sai in one of the walled courtyards for dinner. The Citadel staff had planned a special welcome supper for the princess, and the outdoor party delighted Ino, especially as it was a very exclusive party with just two guests—them.
A big bonfire had been built in the courtyard and a tent had been strung up to provide the Daimyo with additional privacy.
Sai had Ino sit beside him, cross-legged on a red woven rug, and together they dined on roasted lamb, artichokes, saffron rice, and endless nuts and sweets before sitting back to enjoy the evening's entertainment: a juggler—who juggled fire, talented singers, and traditional dancers.
The evening was unlike anything Ino had experienced in Atiq and was by far her favorite. She loved eating outside, relished the heat and glow of the fire, and embraced the sensuous beauty of the place.
"If I was from Baraka, this is where I'd want to live," she said, resting her head on her knee, watching the Haines crackle and dance. "This just feels right. I can't explain it, but it feels like...home."
Sai looked at her and a small muscle pulled in his jaw. "You say extraordinary things when I least expect it."
She turned her head from the fire, smiled at him. She felt pleasantly relaxed, a little bit sleepy. "What did I say?"
He gave his head a slight shake, drew an imaginary circle on the red blanket. "This is my home, my spiritual home. Whenever I have doubts. I come here."
"Doubts about what?"
His lips curved. "My ability to lead." His smile turned self-mocking. "As well as my struggle to find the balance between what I need, and what my people need."
Glancing at him, she saw that his brow had creased, and shadows haunted his eyes. He had such a noble face it hurt her to see him struggle. Ino felt her chest lighten. The depth of her emotion staggered her. She wasn't supposed to care this much. She wasn't supposed to admire him. She wasn't supposed to want him.
She shouldn't have come to Zefd, shouldn't have loved the red mountains, the pinkish walls of the citadel, the gnarled trees that seemed to spring from the middle of the boulders. She shouldn't love the way the wind rustled the fronds on the date trees. Shouldn't like sitting on a carpet by a fire, eating rice with her fingers and feeling peace, real peace, for the first time in years...
This couldn't happen. She couldn't fall in love with Sai or his desert or his kingdom. She wouldn't let herself want the conversations with him, the quiet with him, the life with him...
He was too soulful, too powerful. He'd turn her life upside down. He'd expect her to give up everything she treasured, including her freedom and her beloved family at home.
Tears burned the back of her eyes. She felt as if she couldn't breathe properly.
"I'm exhausted." she said, crossing her arms over her chest, overwhelmed by all that she felt sitting here in the dark with him. What she needed was time alone, quiet lo figure out her way home. Konoha felt light years away. How would she get back?
More importantly, how would she ever forget? If she left Sai, she'd leave her heart in Baraka with him.
"I'll walk you in," he said, rising.
"No need." Ino said hastily, trying to ignore the panic building inside of her. Whatever pretense she'd been able to manage had fallen behind like Atiq's white washed stonewalls. "You have dozens of valets and butlers and maids to escort me to bed."
"I know. I pay their salaries." He smiled sardonically. "But I am the Daimyo, and you, laeela, are my princess." He walked her through the semi-dark corridors, candles lit in high wall sconces, the soft flickering yellow light reminding Ino of a medieval castle and yet the blue paint, and the gold and black mosaics were exotic instead of frightening.
He opened the door of her room, checked inside, made sure all was in order. "Is there anything you need?"
"No."
He said good night then, and left her. Ino shut the door, leaned against the door, wishing with all her might that Sai would have stayed. She needed to be with him. Needed to be close to him. Even if they never made love, she just wanted one night in his arms.
She slowly started to undress and a knock sounded on her door. Opening the door. Ino discovered Sai. A lump filled her throat. She was so glad to see him and it'd only been a couple minutes since he left. "Got lost?"
His crooked grin tugged on her heart. "I forgot something," he said.
"What?"
He wrapped his hands around her arms and pulled her against him. She felt the hard length of his body touch every soft curve of hers. Dropping his head, he kissed her. Sai's lips fell wonderfully cool against her healed skin and she closed her eyes.
"This," he murmured against her lips.
"You returned for a kiss?"
"What is more important than love?" With the tip of his finger he outlined her brow bone and then her small, straight nose.
She shivered at the touch, and yet questioned his words. Love. But he didn't mean love. Not in the Western sense, the way she knew love. He meant love as one that is familiar, important, betrothed. After all, everyone had arranged marriages in Baraka. No one married here for love. There was a way of doing things, the bridegroom paid asedaq, bride price, to the family of the bride, and the bride presented the groom a dowry, and in her case it was the ports and harbors of Konoha.
"I don't know," she answered, belly lightening, nerves jumping as he continued to touch her, his hand exploring the column of her throat, the sensitive spot at the top of her spine, and now her long hair which she'd just loosened.
"You have lovely hair," he said, fingers sliding through the long strands.
"Thank you." The words stuck in her mouth.
"I'm so glad you're not a blonde. I think brunettes are much more striking'," he added, holding a tendril up to the light, letting the dark brown and rich auburn highlights glimmer against his skin. He turned the long strand over. "You haven't ever wanted to be fair, have you?"
Her mouth dried. "I don't think I'd look bad as a blonde, and it's just a hair color. The face would be the same. The eyes. The nose—"
"The lips," he interrupted, covering her mouth with his in a kiss that stole her breath, turned her inside out. This was a kiss. This was so hot. This was so hungry and male. Her insides fell light. Her belly felt tense. She was achy everywhere, wanting something he was promising with his kiss but so far not delivering.
She wanted him.
All of him.
"Could you stay the night?" she whispered against his mouth, one of his hands against her breast, inflaming her nerves, her skin, her imagination.
"We were interrupted last night."
"We were," she agreed, and then remembered what had interrupted them. She felt a pang of conscience, saw Sai's expression darken. He, too, remembered. "I am sorry. For her. For you—"
"I appreciate your sensitivity, but in this case, you have nothing to apologize for. I've always known I could marry from within the family. The option never appealed to me." He lifted her chin, kissed her mouth, felt her lips tremble beneath his. "It will be good for her to go to The Fire Country for a while. Hanako has many family members inthere, and her immediate family knows many families. She will find the right man. I am sure of it."
Ino felt a stab of sympathy for his cousin. If Hanako truly loved Sai, she would not find him easy to forget. "I hope so," she whispered.
He circled his hands around her long hair. "We were discussing the night."
Her hands hovered at the buttons on his shirt. "Yes."
"Do I spend the night?"
"Yes." And then as she unbuttoned the first button, and the second button, she remembered one huge but crucial detail. She wasn't a natural brunette. He'd notice as soon as he saw her naked. The hair on the rest of her body was blond. Natural blond.
Ino's fingers were motionless now. "But if you're worried about impropriety, perhaps we just spend the night together... without making love."
"Or maybe you're worried that you can't spend a night with me without wanting to make love."
She laughed softly, embarrassed, amused. He was very funny for a Daimyo. Very sexy, too. "You have extraordinary confidence."
"I should. I'm very good."
This was getting quite interesting. This was the stuff she'd been dying to know.
"Good, how?"
He laughed, too. "How do you think?"
"I'm supposed to be a virgin." she answered primly, ignoring the shimmering heat in her cheeks, the languid warmth throughout her body. She loved the verbal foreplay with him as much as actually touching. She loved letting the desire start with the eyes, the lips, letting words tease. She loved making love, but better than making love, was the idea that making love could be so damn fun.
"I believe Western culture has had all the virgin births it can support. You have a daughter. I'm quite sure you'll never have that virginity restored."
"So we can definitely do some things tonight, just not... every thing." She'd returned to unbuttoning his shirt again. She almost had it all the way unbuttoned now, and with each button she felt her desire ratchet up another notch. "What would please you?"
His shirt fell open. He looked down at her, heat in his gaze. "You."
Ino sank down on the edge of her bed, Sai towered above her. She tried to keep from staring at the magnificent proportions of his upper body. He'd looked great in a robe last night, but in slacks and a shirt he looked... oh... unreal. "And what about me pleases you. Your Highness?"
He studied her, considered her. "Your mouth."
"My mouth."
"Your hands."
She gripped a pillow. "My hands.""
"Your mind."
She wanted to throw the pillow out of the way and beg him to take her and to hell with the consequences. No one had ever liked her mind before. "You like it better than my body?" She knew she had a decent body.
"I adore your mind."
She couldn't suppress her smile. "Why?"
"It's sharp. It's smart. It's funny." His head cocked. "You're funny. I'm having a fantastic time watching you, wondering what you're going to do next. You're very daring."
What did he mean by that? What did he know? "You mean... marrying you? A stranger?"
He laughed softly, and the sound just melted Ino. She felt so hot, she pressed her knees together, pushed the pillow to her thighs.
"You'll never admit the truth, will you?"
"What truth?"
He wasn't going to answer that one. "Never mind. It's not important. I'll leave you to your sleep." Sai bent down, kissed her gently on the mouth, a long slow kiss that made Ino's head spin and tummy slip as if it'd taken flight. "Tasbah ala khir."
Good night. Wake up happy.
"You're not going to stay?" Disappointment washed through her in waves.
"No." He sounded regretful and he kissed her again, parting her lips ever so slowly, flicking the inside of her lip with his tongue. "You wouldn't be able to keep your hands off me. And I wouldn't be able to keep my mouth off you. And I love to kiss, laeela. Everywhere."
Sai returned to the fire outside. Hours passed, and he couldn't make himself go to bed. His guards wanted to stay up with him—security had been stepped up a year ago— and he knew it was for his own good, but tonight he needed space. He reminded his guards that he was within the locked walls of the Citadel, his own fortress, a fortress that hadn't been conquered in five hundred years. "If I'm not safe here," he said to his men, "then where?"
They laughed because they were supposed to, and they retired. Finally alone. Sai's thoughts raced. He found himself thinking of not just one thing, but many, and his thoughts weren't linear.
He thought of Ino, his siren, and knew he'd met his match. He thought of Hanako and her sorrow and shame, and he wished he'd known what she was expecting, wished he'd tried to find her a good match before. But she'd never wanted to marry. She'd told him many times that she'd rather stay single, than marry a stranger and leave the palace. He thought of his younger brother, Kalen, now living in London, having studied at Oxford—just like he did—but unlike Sai, chose to sever his ties with Baraka, become a true citizen of the United Kingdom. Sai had never understood it but he'd accepted it.
But with Kalen choosing to become a U.K. citizen, he'd forfeited all rights to succession. Kalen had been second in line for the throne but now...
Sai had been furious with Kalen on moral grounds—they were Arabs, their home was North Africa—but it wasn't until the attempt on Sai's life a year ago that he understood Kalen's fears.
Kalen didn't want to get caught in politics. He wasn't a politician. He was a businessman. He thrived in the high-powered world of banking, loved the urban rush, felt like he'd found a true home in London. Sai couldn't stay angry with his brother. Every one deserved a chance to lead a happy life, a life of meaning and value. If Kalen found that meaning in London, who was he to criticize his brother?
Sai contemplated the glowing orange red fire, and knew he'd lived a good life. It'd been a very full and interesting life. He'd been blessed. And in the past several years he'd been so busy living—doing—that he'd spent very little time in contemplation.
If it weren't for the assassination attempt a year ago, he wouldn't be as contemplative as he was now. The threat on his life last winter had forced him to become cognizant of all that he'd been given, of the blessings heaped on his head—wealth, prestige, education, power, respect. In reality, he'd been denied little. Looking back he saw that he'd lived large, loved readily and regretted nothing.
Not true, he thought, stopping himself. He did have one regret. He was sorry he'd waited so long to take a wife, start a family. He wanted a child. Needed a child. He needed an heir in case the unthinkable happened. And quite frankly, the unthinkable happened somewhere in the world every day.
A log shifted in the fire, rolling, and red-hot sparks shot up, into the still black night. Sai's eyes narrowed as he watched the sparks burn brightly then fade just as swiftly. Life was like that, wasn't it? One was here, present, accounted for, and in those hours one had youth and life, one believed in forever.
One wanted to believe there'd be forever.
And then something happens and it changes all the naive assumptions, forces one to confront the very things human beings shy away from. Mortality. He couldn't deny his mortality any longer. He. King Sai Kazuri, had a price on his head. There'd been one assassination attempt already. Sai knew there'd be another. It was simply a matter of time.
Sai crouched by the fire and stared into the shimmering red heat, letting the acrid bite of smoke waft around him, slinging his eyes, filling his nose. He could taste the smoke, feel the smoke and it reminded him of his younger days. He'd been to battle. He'd returned from battle. He'd led his country for the past fifteen years and Baraka had benefited from his leadership, but he knew history. He'd studied history. Each man was but one part of the whole, and time was a continuum and would continue long past one man's years.
Sai knew he wasn't going to live forever, and he could accept that as long as he provided for his people. And in this case providing for them meant providing leadership. He needed a child desperately. And while the mantle of leadership would fall to his child. Sai also vowed to love his child with all his heart, and all his strength.
A rustle of fabric caught his attention and Sai turned to see Ino coining toward him. She was wearing one of the traditional robes, and the head covering had slipped back, exposing her chestnut hair.
"Did you ever go to bed?" she asked him, joining him at the fire.
"No," he answered, straightening.
She studied his profile for a long moment in the firelight "Thinking of Hanako?"
He made a hoarse sound. "I'm thinking of everything."
He tipped his head back, gazed up into the sky. It was hours till dawn and the heavens were huge, endless, a dark purple punctuated by countless stars. Here in the middle of the mountains he was more nature than man. Here he was part of the wind, the sun, the sand, the air itself. He wasn't king, wasn't royal, was just a common man.
Sighing. Sai ran a hand through his hair. "I miss this life," he said at length. "I don't get away from the city often enough."
She said nothing, and he felt her watchful gaze.
"I used to spend many of my holidays here," he added, filling the silence, knowing she wanted him to speak, that she'd joined him to hear what was on his mind. "The mountains here, the red sand, it's always been special."
He turned to look at her. Her blue eyes were a clear lucid blue even now, in the middle of the night, and he thought she looked real, no longer guarded. So often she hid her emotions behind a mask, and perhaps they, royals, always did. The world was always watching so one had to be careful. But it was good to see her calm, rather contemplative, too.
"My brother and cousins also enjoyed the trips across the mountains," he added. "They liked the nights like this, when we camped out, the night spent huddled around the fire, but they've all left Baraka now. But I could never call any other place home."
"You shouldn't have to. This is your country. You were born here, raised here—"
"And you were born and raised in Konoha but you're forced to leave."
Ino stood still, finding his words both painful and surprisingly honest. "I've known for a while." she answered after a long moment. "Once we realized the situation, we all knew we'd have to leave."
"And that doesn't break your heart?"
Her eyes closed and Ino felt his deep voice seep through her, into her heart, into her veins, touching her everywhere. And that doesn't break your heart? How could a man of his power, his position know? How could a thirty-seven-year-old Daimyo understand the difficulty of the decision, of the rocky heights and depths of emotion? "One does what one must," she murmured, voice failing her and tenderness suffusing every bone and nerve.
"One could always rebel."
She shot him a swift glance. His gaze was steady, penetrating, and she felt no one had ever looked at her, or listened to her, with Sai's focus. He truly heard her. He paid attention to not just the words she said, but the meanings beneath, to all the unspoken breaths and nuances that made conversation potent. "I'm no saint. I have rebelled." she hesitated. "Many, many times."
His dark gaze traveled her face. "Yet you're here now."
Ino fell heal warm her face every place his eyes rested. He was no ordinary man. He possessed extraordinary strength. There was nothing weak or passive about him. "I want what's best for my family."
He suddenly reached out, touched her temple with the pad of her thumb. "And not for you?"
She shivered as his thumb caressed the arch of her brow. "I need very little."
His thumb stroked along her hairline to the curve of her jaw. "You might be surprised."
Her face suddenly felt so naked, so bare—as if he'd peeled away some false self, leaving her real self exposed. She wanted him to touch her again, wanted his thumb to find her mouth, wanted his hands to frame her face, wanted him to surround her with his strength.
Bone to bone. Skin to skin.
Heart to heart.
Ino bit her lower lip, drawing the soft skin hard between her teeth. She pulled away, turning from him. He needed a wife. He thought he'd found his queen. And yet in a matter of days she intended to leave him.
He caught her shoulders, wouldn't let her retreat. "I see the sadness in your eyes again, and last night we were interrupted, but I don't think we will be again."
"There's no sadness."
But his fingers were firm on her shoulders. "No sadness? Why, laeela, you have the Sahara in your eyes—endless, speechless, lonely."
"I'm not lonely."' How could he read her so well? There were times it felt like he was part of her... another half of her… how could anyone—much less a man— understand her so well?
"You have been alone too long." Lowering his head, he kissed her forehead, very, very gently. "I think it is the fate of being such a beautiful princess. There is no one as beautiful as you—"
"Sai."
He cupped her cheek with his hand. "Life in a high stone tower."
"No. It's not like that. I haven't lived like that. I'm not—" She broke off, swallowing hard.
"Not what?"
How to tell him that she wasn't who he believed her to be? That all his assumptions were wrong because she wasn't the good, virtuous Hinata but Ino, the one who did what she wanted to do, the one who'd taken Hinata's place to keep Sai's necessary marriage from taking place.
Everything he needed, she'd prevented.
Everything he wanted, she'd keep him from having.
This was wrong. She was wrong. Ino clasped Sai's hand, pressing his palm more lightly to her check. She met his gaze and in his eyes she saw kindness. Such compassion. It was almost as if he knew she harbored secrets that could hurt him, and yet he'd already forgiven her.
But it couldn't be.
He didn't know... he couldn't... could he?
He released her, stepped away, returning to the fire where he prodded a burning log with a stick. The log rolled over, wood popping, sparks shooting high. "So, are you going to tell me?"
There was so much to tell him. But she'd been playing the charade too long. Ino couldn't figure a way out.
"Just say it," he said coolly.
"Can we sit down?" Ino's legs had begun to shake with fear and fatigue. She knew she had to start opening up a little. She'd suffocate if she didn't. He took a seat on the dark crimson carpet with the gold and black threads. Ino sat down near him and was relieved he didn't pull away. "I'm worried."
He waited.
Her heart pounded. She fell almost dizzy. "I'm worried about the future." The words tumbled from her lips. "I'm worried about Konoha. I'm worried about my grandparents, worried about Kaori—"
"And us. You're worried about us."
"I am."
His jaw jutted. He suddenly looked very weary. "I am, too."
"You are?"
He nodded slowly. "I'm also concerned about the future."
She heard the weight of the world in his voice. Please don't let her be the cause of his unhappiness. Please don't let her add to his burdens. "Why?"
"I don't believe in divorce. I don't want to marry to be divorced."