steady her.
Merida had never reacted to anyone with such force. In fact she had never responded to a man in such a way.
She had wanted to. And she had tried on occasion—going along with a kiss while awaiting desire.
But it had never arrived and there had never been more than a kiss.
Merida had decided that her unwillingness must somehow be her fault—that there was something she was missing in her genes, or that her parents’ bitter divorce and its aftermath had left her too mistrusting to let down her guard.
Oh, she could fake it for an audience. On stage, she could put on a sensual display indeed.
In fact, she was acting now—pretending that she had it all together and that he did not move her so.
Yet when the weekend came around, and she was back on stage where she felt she belonged, Merida knew she would draw on how it had felt to be so close to him.
In the real world, though, Merida was new to these feelings.
New to all this.
AS MERIDA STEPPED out of the draped tunnel and into the semi-dark space, which twinkled with jewels, she found herself a little breathless.
There were no windows, no signs of the outside world to orientate oneself. The subtle bergamot and woody notes of Ethan Devereux’s cologne were richer as she moved to where he stood, staring into the first display.
Merida cleared her throat and broke the heavy silence.
‘These are the Amulets of Al-Zahan.’
Ethan had expected jewellery, or ancient carved tokens, but instead there was an array of gemstones, embedded in rocks, still in their original form. Each was a mini-galaxy in itself, and, far from being bored, he had rarely been so entranced as Merida started to tell their tale.
‘The collection and its history was a passion of the late Queen Dalila of Al-Zahan. Right up to her death, some twenty years ago, she was still unearthing long-forgotten treasures.’
‘How did she die?’ Ethan asked.
‘In childbirth. I believe it was her fourth child...’ She faltered a little over a detail she did not know. ‘I can check.’
‘No need.’
Merida wasn’t so sure. She felt as if she were being tested.
‘On her marriage, she was given this amulet...’
In the first display cabinet was an intricate knot of emerald and ore. Beautifully lit, it turned slowly, and Ethan gazed upon it for a considerable time. The stone was practically bursting out of the ore.
‘Amulets are a gift of potential,’ Merida explained.
‘Potential for what?’
‘Marriages were, and still are, arranged in Al-Zahan. The amulets celebrate a future love, and also promote fertility. It is said that they are a gift of possibilities not yet fulfilled. To cut and polish the stone would reveal too many secrets.’
He seemed interested now, Merida thought as they moved on.
‘The next amulet is Lapis Lazuli. Lapis was, and still is, ground to create a pigment for ultramarine—the colour used in Van Gogh’s Starry Night painting. When the then Sheikha Princess was studying here in Manhattan she saw the painting on display. It is said it was the recollection of the painting that started her on a mission to find the missing amulets.’
‘And did she find many?’
‘Indeed.’ Merida nodded. ‘At the time of her death she had made significant inroads—though of course there are many gaps.’
‘And she studied here?’ Ethan checked, more than interested now.
‘Yes—at Columbia.’
It was the same college where Khalid and Ethan had met. He had known that the amulets belonged to Khalid’s family, but he had not known that the late Queen had studied at Columbia too. It struck Ethan that he had learned more about the enigmatic Khalid from a stranger than from the man himself. He was more than intrigued as Merida spoke on.
‘Princess Dalila returned to Al-Zahan to marry. However, her fondness for New York City was the reason that her son, Sheikh Khalid, agreed to the amulets being displayed here.’
Ethan moved on—but not out of boredom this time, more out of interest. He stood peering into the next display. Embedded within a large, egg-shaped piece of marble was a ruby.
‘This one is my favourite,’ Merida admitted.
She took out some black gloves and handed him a pair, then, as she put on her own gloves, Merida told him its story.
‘Three hundred years ago in Al-Zahan there was a secret wedding,’ she explained, and Ethan found he was drawing nearer to hear her low voice, as if she were sharing a secret only with him. ‘Due to feuding between the two families there was no amulet given. Peace was finally restored, but after two years, when there were still no signs of a baby, it was decided that this was the reason. The Sheikh King, desperate for the lineage to continue, asked that the best stones be excavated. It took three years until what he considered a suitable offering was found.’
‘It’s stunning,’ Ethan said, and so was the voice that told the tale.
She handed the large stone to him; he weighed it in his hand and then held it between finger and thumb, bringing it nearer to his eyes to examine it more closely.
‘Careful,’ Merida said, and drew on yet another of her well-worn lines. ‘It ensures fertility.’
‘For a hen, perhaps,’ Ethan mused.
That tiny glint of humour made her smile. It reached her eyes, and they shone as beguiling as any amulet, and there was a single perfect moment when he forgot his hellish day.
Hellish because he should be in Dubai, finally kicking back, but instead would be heading to the hospital soon, where his father had been admitted in advance of some exploratory surgery that morning.
Ethan knew no more than that.
In an hour or so he would glean what he could, but for a moment or two he forgot the troubles awaiting him in the world outside. For now he focused on her smoky voice and the history of this beautiful stone, said to promote both love and fertility—two things he did not want.
‘And did it work?’ Ethan asked, handing the amulet back to her.
Merida nodded. ‘Yes, the Sheikha Princess went on to have the first set of royal twins.’
The tour continued to its conclusion and, having seen and held some more amulets, Ethan handed the final piece to her and watched as she carefully replaced it in the display.
‘The
