movement of his hips against hers she could feel exactly how pressing that engagement was.
She blushed, but forced herself to say, ‘This is more important, though. I don’t want to be responsible for taking you away …’
He silenced her words with a kiss, drawing her into a secluded alcove. People passed them by, but they were oblivious to everything but the heat between them. They finally came up for air and Jamilah groaned softly, resting her forehead on Salman’s chest. Would she ever be free of this insanity?
When he took her hand again and led her out she was silent. Back in the car, she noticed that they weren’t heading towards their hotel, and finally they pulled up at a small, slightly battered-looking restaurant boat that was moored near the Île de la Cité on the Seine. Lightbulbs were strung around the perimeter, bathing it in a golden glow. Her heart lurched. This had always been one of her favourite parts of Paris.
Salman led her down rickety steps and said, ‘I thought you might be hungry …’
Jamilah’s stomach growled, and she smiled. ‘You seem to be more in tune with my eating habits than I am.’
He smiled, too, and for a second looked years younger—as if some of his dark intensity was lifting. She had to stem the rising tide of tenderness. Just then a rotund man came to the door and exclaimed over Salman effusively. Clearly he was a well-liked visitor. They were soon seated in a quiet corner, overlooking the slightly choppy river. The glowing lights of hundreds of apartments shone down on them, and on the water. Jamilah could see a couple on the path by the Seine stop and share a passionate kiss—it might have been her and Salman, six years ago. She sighed.
Salman took her hand and said lightly, ‘You don’t like this place?’
She shook her head and said quietly, avoiding his eye, ‘It’s perfect. I love it.’ And I love you. Still. She curbed her words.
The waiter came then, to take their order, and Jamilah forced herself to relax. Salman ordered champagne and oysters, and they spoke of inconsequential things in an easy conversation that didn’t stray anywhere near difficult topics. Jamilah could almost imagine for a second that she’d dreamt up Salman’s horrific revelations … but then she only had to think of the charity and the work he was doing and remember.
By the time they had gorged on the succulent morsels, and after Salman had kissed and licked away the droplets that clung to her mouth, she was trembling with desire. When he stood up and took her hand to leave she didn’t hesitate.
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