with me to put her to bed,” he invited, indicating his sleeping daughter.
Iris nodded before her brain could even finish processing the request. She shouldn’t. She knew she shouldn’t. Keeping her distance from him was the only hope she had of keeping her heart intact this time around.
But keeping her distance from his daughter simply wasn’t an option. After the years of rejection at her parents’ hands, Iris did not have it in her to disappoint the child.
Besides, she liked Nawar.
Iris helped Asad undress Nawar and put a nightgown on the sleeping child like she’d done it a hundred times before. It should feel awkward, but it didn’t. Maybe the old saying was true, some things were just like riding a bicycle. You never really forgot how to do them, no matter how young you were when you learned.
While Iris had no experience with children as an adult, in boarding school she had often taken care of the younger ones.
She tucked the little girl into her bed, soothing her back to sleep with a soft lullaby when Nawar started to wake after her father laid her down.
“You’re good with her,” Asad said as they left the room moments later.
“Thank you. I’ve had some experience.”
“I wasn’t aware you had small children in your life.” He talked like he knew a lot more about her life than he possibly could.
“I don’t.”
“But you’ve had experience?” he prompted.
“I learned how to tuck little girls in when I was a child myself.”
“Explain,” he pushed.
“My parents sent me to boarding school when I was six. I was terrified at night without our housekeeper there to tuck me in and tell me a story.”
“I know this is a common practice, sending away one’s children, but not one I could ever approve of for my own.”
She didn’t imagine a man who considered family as important as Asad did would. That knowledge cemented her certainty that his parents’ defection to Geneva had hurt him badly, though he might never acknowledge it.
“It’s actually not as frequent a practice in America as it is in England, particularly not for children as young as I was, but there are some schools who will board their students from the age of six.”
“And your parents saw fit to send you to one of these?”
“Yes.”
“But how does that explain your experience with small children?”
“When I had been there a year, another six-year-old girl came to board, as well. Though I was second youngest of all the boarders, I was seven then and used to the life. The rest of the children in our grades were day schoolers.”
“Day schoolers?”
“They came for the day, not to live.”
“I see.” He stopped her before they returned to the feast. “But you were a night schooler? No that would not be right.”
She smiled at his attempt to get the word right. “I was a resident, or a boarder.”
“Oh, yes, of course. And this little girl …”
“They put her in my room because we were so close in age. I could hear her crying in her bed that first night. She missed her parents terribly.”
“So, you comforted her?”
“I had a little flashlight. I used it to read her a book. Then I sang to her until she fell asleep.” Iris had returned to her own bed after that, more comforted than she had been at bedtime since going to the school.
“It became a routine.”
“Yes. She was only there for a semester. Her parents had been in an accident and couldn’t care for her, but as soon as they could, they came and got her.”
Iris had been without a roommate until the next year, when they’d put the two newest and youngest residents in a room with her again, since she’d been so good with her other roommate. “The girls’ dormitory mother made sure that the youngest residents were always put in my room.”
“Even when you were older? That must have put a cramp in your style.”
Iris laughed. “Not so you would notice. I was a very shy girl, but I knew how to comfort the little ones and help them transition to boarding school life.”
“They were lucky to have you.”
“It was mutual. I would have been very lonely otherwise.”
“Didn’t you have friends?”
“Of course.”
“But not close ones,” he guessed far too perceptively.
“I made the mistake of growing close to a couple of girls in the beginning, but then they left.” And she’d learned not to let people get too close.
They always left. But then Asad had come along and she’d opened her heart again … only, he’d left too.
“And now?”
“Now?”
“Do you have friends now?” he asked in a strangely tense voice.
“Russell.”
“Russell? Your assistant?”
“You say his name like it’s a dirty word. He’s a really great guy.” Iris liked the geological assistant who told corny jokes only another geologist would get.
“Are you attracted to this really great guy?” Asad asked with dangerous quiet. “He is a great deal younger than you.”
A junior at his university, Russell was about as much younger than Iris as she had been than Asad when they were together. “He’s twenty. Anyway, what difference does it make to you?”
“Answer me. Are you two in a relationship?” he said, the last word laced with disgust.
She rolled her eyes. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous.”
“Who says I am not?”
She laughed, the sound cynical. “Oh, come on, Asad. Like you are going to be jealous of a geeky science boy.”
“Are you attracted to geeky?”
She could have been, she realized. Not Russell, necessarily. He was very much like a younger brother, but maybe to someone else like that. If there hadn’t been Asad to spoil her for others. “You asked me if I had friends, Asad. That’s what he is. My friend.”
And
