Her solemnity as she made her vow of silence brought an affectionate smile to Tariq’s face ‘I appreciate that, Molly. But you do know that Khalid and I would both have been proud to have introduced you as our sister tonight.’
Warm moisture filled Molly’s amber eyes as emotion clogged her throat. ‘Really…?’
‘You can doubt this?’ he asked, before a spasm of self-condemnation twisted his dark features. ‘Of course you can. Why would you not after I have ignored you for the past twenty-four years? If you had told me to go to hell it would have been what I deserved.’
A grin spread across Molly’s face as she flicked away a strand of waist-length hair that had drifted across her face. It was still slightly damp from the shower. ‘The way I recall it I pretty much did just that.’
The reminder of that meeting brought a rueful grin to his face.
‘If it wasn’t for Beatrice coming to see me I wouldn’t be here now,’ she said frankly.
It was true. When the half-brother who had ignored her since birth had suggested they should get to know one another, her response had been to angrily reject his overtures. What did she need with a brother who she knew had caused their mother so much heartache by refusing any contact with her after her second marriage to Molly’s father?
They were strangers and Molly had been happy for it to stay that way; she’d wanted nothing to do with him.
Why would she?
She owed Tariq nothing. He hadn’t just ignored the fact she existed, he had pressured Khalid, whom she had seen and adored as a small child before their mother’s premature death, to reject her too.
It had been a visit in person from Beatrice pleading her husband’s case that had persuaded her to accept the invitation.
Molly had come prepared, almost wanting, to despise this brother, but to her amazement after a slightly rocky start she had found herself liking Tariq.
‘And you are glad you did come?’
Molly uncurled her legs from underneath her as she lifted her chin and scanned the lean dark face of the brother she still barely knew. ‘Very glad,’ she admitted huskily.
Tariq smiled and got to his feet. ‘And you will think about what I have said?’
‘I will,’ she promised, walking with him to the door.
‘Tariq!’
Standing framed in the doorway, he turned back.
‘I do understand, you know…why you wouldn’t come and visit Mum when she was alive.’
She hadn’t always. As a small child the only thing she had understood was the desperate hurt in her mother’s eyes when the eldest son she had been forced to leave behind when she’d divorced the King of Zarhat had not accompanied his brother for the arranged visit.
It had not crossed her mind at the time that Tariq had been hurting too and perhaps feeling betrayed that the mother he had loved had chosen her freedom over her sons.
‘Dad told me, when he knew I was coming here, how she never stopped feeling guilty about leaving you and Khalid, but she knew you would be safe and loved. She always knew that your place was here.’
‘And hers was not.’
There was no trace of criticism in Tariq’s manner but Molly felt impelled to defend the choice their mother had made.
‘She must have been very desperate.’
Molly could only imagine the sort of unhappiness that would make a woman make that choice. She knew nothing about the strength of maternal bonds, but something deep inside her told her that to leave a child would be like ripping away part of yourself and you’d walk around with that awful emptiness the rest of your life.
Without being judgemental, Molly really couldn’t imagine a situation where she would make the same decision.
‘But she knew you and Khalid would be well cared for and I think me being here would have made her very happy.’
Without a word Molly stepped into arms that opened for her and the years of rejection and anger melted away.
‘God, look at me, I’m crying,’ she said as she emerged from a crushing brotherly hug. She wiped the moisture from her face with one hand and pushed back her hair with the other.
‘Go on,’ she sniffed. ‘Or Beatrice will be sending out the search party.’
FROM where he was standing, Tair witnessed the embrace and heard Molly’s parting warning. He could feel the anger burning inside him like a solid physical presence.
He stayed where he stood concealed in the shadows until the echoes of Tariq’s footsteps on the marble floor died away. Then he began to walk towards the door that had just closed, his long stride filled with purpose.
A muscle clenched in his firm jaw as he imagined her in the room feeling pleased with herself because nobody suspected her game. Her mask was good, he conceded, but he had seen through her disguise.
There was no effort involved in recreating in his head the image of her standing in the doorway.
He had barely recognised the mouse minus the glasses and with her hair hanging loose to her narrow waist like a silken screen. The light streaming from the bedroom had acted like a spotlight shining through the fine fabric of her demure nightclothes, revealing every dip and curve of a slender but undeniably female form. Female enough to cause a lustful surge of his own undiscriminating hormones.
Who would have guessed, other than Tariq, that under the baggy top there was that body?
He stopped a few feet from the door and forced himself to think past both the memory of those small plump breasts and his anger—the two seemed inextricably linked in his head—and took a deep breath, forcing the fury boiling in his veins to a gentle simmer.
To confront her would give him pleasure of a sort, but what would it achieve? Other than to watch her struggle as she tried to explain away what he had seen. She would have her work cut out, Tair thought. He was not a man to jump to conclusions, but in this instance he felt he was fully justified to assume the worst.
However, what he had witnessed showed how deeply she had her unvarnished claws into Tariq, and threats from him were not going to make her back off. Him barging in might even have the opposite effect and actually make the situation worse. Right now the situation was retrievable, but if the affair became public knowledge…?
He needed to think. He needed to think about this like any other problem. He needed to analyse the problem, decide what he wanted to happen and then choose how he was going to make it happen.
Tair inhaled deeply, then released the breath slowly. With one last look at the door he turned and strode away in the opposite direction to the one his cousin had taken.
Tariq,
