The Sheikh's Captive Woman Page 6

  Khaleel chuckled, shaking his head to dislodge some of the water clinging to his face and hair. “Okay,” he said, twisting in the water and pointing at their destination. “Right ahead—no more than maybe forty feet.”

  Aurora could see the shoreline easily in the late afternoon light; the island had a white sand beach, and stands of scrubby, tropical trees standing watch over the ocean vista. She followed in Khaleel’s wake, swimming a few feet behind him, thinking that if she ever went on another cruise in her life, it would be a major comedown to take a shuttle to the shore of her destination, as opposed to swimming there.

  The sandy bottom of the ocean floor appeared underneath her, and Aurora got to her feet, wading the last few yards onto the beach. She hadn’t quite realized how restless she had been until she’d gotten the opportunity to burn off some energy swimming. As she stepped onto the soft, white sand, Aurora was breathing heavily from her exertions, even though she felt refreshed from the water.

  “I am so going to need a shower tonight,” she told Khaleel as they sank down onto the beach. Her skirt clung in sopping folds to her legs, and she was briefly aware of the fact that her shirt was very white—and very wet. If Khaleel didn’t comment on it, she decided, she wouldn’t bring his attention to the fact.

  “You will,” he agreed, nodding as he caught his breath. “The salt dries off on your skin, but your skin is softer and smoother when you shower it all off.” There was a fleeting look on his face in profile—something not quite like grief, but closer to regret—but it was gone before Aurora could accurately read it, so quickly that she wasn’t even sure she’d seen it at all.

  “So is this your private island, or are you just borrowing it?”

  Khaleel shrugged. “It’s a tiny little place. A nice getaway from time to time, when everything gets too stressful. It’s important to have somewhere like this.” Aurora nodded. “The sunset is amazing from here, too.”

  Aurora glanced at the horizon and she could see, from the shifting oranges and pinks already present in the sky, that he was right. It was going to be absolutely spectacular.

  “This place reminds me of something,” she said, leaning back and resting her weight on her elbows.

  “Where’s that? Miami Beach?” Khaleel asked, sounding doubtful.

  “Oh no,” Aurora told him quickly. “Not that at all.” She smiled slightly, looking out over the water. “I visited a beach like this in Thailand,” she explained. “I traveled through there a few months ago. Thailand, Singapore, Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos…”

  “I thought you told me you didn’t have a lot of privilege,” Khaleel said playfully.

  “I don’t,” Aurora said. “Someone loaned me money for the plane tickets and the hostel stays, and I had just enough money myself for things like transport and food.”

  “So what made you decide on Southeast Asia?”

  Aurora glanced at Khaleel. “It was the next on the list,” she said with a shrug. “I have a list of places I want to see at some point in my life, and even though I’ve managed to knock a handful off of the list, I keep ending up adding more.”

  Khaleel nodded. “There are so many places to visit on the planet; you could spend your entire life traveling and not get to see them all.” He smiled. “At least, not as thoroughly as they deserve. You could probably manage to set foot in every city, in every country, if you really tried.”

  Aurora chuckled. “I don’t know if I want to go to every city of every country, but I want to see as much of this planet as I possibly can,” she told him. “I grew up in North Carolina. My hometown was so small, all I ever wanted to do was get out there and see what the world was like. The rest of it, you know?”

  “That makes sense,” Khaleel said, nodding again. “I think I traveled for the first time when I was nine months old; my father had some summit to go to, and he convinced my mother to come with him and bring me.” He shrugged. “I don’t have any memory of it, obviously—but I’ve pretty much been on the move ever since.” He licked his lips and an expression flitted across his face that Aurora couldn’t quite read. “I never feel completely awake when I’m at home.”

  “I know what you mean,” Aurora said. “The few times I’ve gone back home to my parents', it’s like falling into some kind of mental sleep.”

  “Restful,” Khaleel pointed out, “but kind of unfulfilling.” He looked out over the ocean and Aurora followed his gaze. They watched the last purple-red spectacle of the sun descending beyond the horizon for a few moments in silence, and Aurora wondered what Khaleel was thinking about.

  “What’s your favorite place you’ve ever been?”

  Khaleel started, glancing at her and then shifting backward to recline on the soft, warm sand. “A family friend of mine, he has this little place, an estate in Sardinia. Up in the hills, a million miles away from anything. He lets me borrow it sometimes.” Khaleel smiled slightly. “It’s beautiful there; peaceful without being somewhere that makes me feel numb. Wine, delicious food, music…it’s just wonderful. What about you?”

  Aurora considered the question. “There was this tiny town in Vietnam,” she said slowly. “I was stuck there a couple of days—transport was off for a holiday—but I almost didn’t want to move on by the time everything opened up again. I ate the best soup I have ever had, made by an old woman who sold it by the bowl in the streets. It was better than anything I’ve ever tasted.” Aurora smiled. “Everyone there just seemed to be…content, I guess. Everyone knew each other, everyone worked hard but they had plenty of time to relax and talk to each other. I’m probably just imposing my own idyllic notions on them…but it was nice. Quiet and noisy at the same time.”

  Khaleel chuckled. “Someone from Vietnam could visit your hometown and say the same thing,” he pointed out.

  “Point taken” Aurora chuckled. “I just think some people, like me, and maybe like you; I don’t know you well enough, are maybe just… We can’t fully appreciate the place we come from, because there’s this itch to look for more.”

  “That sounds about right,” Khaleel agreed. “It’s not that I’m unhappy…”

  “If you were unhappy with billions of dollars at your disposal, then there’s no hope for anyone,” Aurora pointed out.

  Khaleel laughed. “Billions aren’t everything,” he told her. “But it’s not an unhappiness. It’s a feeling like you want something you can’t quite find. It’s there in the corner of your eye, or just beyond the tips of your fingers.” He looked out over the water again. “Look,” he said, his voice lightening.

  “The stars?” Aurora followed the Sheikh’s pointing hand.

  “I used to stargaze with my father sometimes,” Khaleel said. “When I was very, very young. Before the responsibilities started.” He sighed. “You know most of the stars have Arabic names, right?”

  Aurora considered the question. “Which ones?” She tried to think of the names of stars she knew.

  “Betelgeuse, there,” Khaleel told her, pointing. “It’s part of the constellation Orion. Alnilam, in the same constellation—it means ‘the string of pearls’. Alnitak, Orion’s belt.” Khaleel pointed to more. “Altair, the flying—the eagle. And there’s Deneb, the tail of the hen, part of Cygnus.”

  Aurora listened and watched as Khaleel pointed out more and more stars, telling her the names and giving her the translations as the darkness deepened around them. As the sky went pitch black with the pinpoint stars twinkling on the velvet-looking backdrop, lights came up on the yacht.

  “Ugh, that makes it harder to see the stars,” Aurora said irritably.

  Khaleel chuckled. “It’s the signal for us to get back on board,” he told her. “The tide will be coming in soon, and that makes it harder to swim back.”

  He rose to his feet and Aurora suppressed a feeling of annoyance at the prospect of going back to the yacht. Only hours before, she had looked at the vessel as her chance to get away from all of the troubles plaguing her; now it was a reminder of the
frustrations of her situation. Aurora sighed and got to her feet, dusting the sand lightly from her clothes and following Khaleel back into the water.

  The swim back was more leisurely than the one to shore had been, and as they approached the yacht, Aurora had to admit that part of her irritation stemmed from the fact that she was there at Khaleel’s pleasure—he could abandon her on the island if he wanted to, and she wouldn’t have much that she could do to counter it. She also realized that she felt more than a little bit guilty about the fact that she’d stowed away and then lied to the man. She tried to tell herself that she didn’t have much choice once she’d given into the impulse, but that was a lie. She could have turned herself in, just as Khaleel could have confronted her immediately instead of toying with her.

  Khaleel insisted that Aurora climb up onto the deck before him. “It’s dark here in the shadows,” he said. “If you slip, there should be someone here in the water to make sure you aren’t hurt.”

  Khaleel followed behind her and they both clambered onto the deck. The breeze gave Aurora a slight chill and she shivered until one of the crew members appeared with big, fluffy towels; the woman holding them gave Khaleel his and then, with a doubtful expression on her face, handed one to Aurora.

  “Let me show you to your quarters,” Khaleel said. “You can have dinner there; I’ll give orders that you’re to have whatever you want from the kitchens.” He started off, and Aurora followed, feeling the fatigue in her legs from the swim; it was a sweet kind of ache, and in the back of her mind, Aurora was glad that Khaleel had invited her out to shore with him.

  Khaleel came to a stop at a door along one of the winding corridors that made up the yacht’s interior, and Aurora tightened the towel around her. “There will be your quarters. There are some clothes in the dresser,” he said. “Some pajamas, I think—maybe something you can wear during the day. You can send your wet clothes to the laundry and they’ll be taken care of.” He looked at her for a moment and smiled. “Have a good night, Aurora.”

  “I do still kind of resent you for confining me to this ship,” Aurora told him, though there was no real conviction in her voice when she said it. If she was honest with herself, she knew very well that there were much, much worse things that Khaleel could have done when he discovered he had a stowaway on board.

  “You’ll sleep well, at least,” Khaleel said, giving her a faint smile before turning away. “If there's anything you need, let someone know. I’ll put the word out.”

  Aurora watched him disappear down the hallway and then opened the door to her room, stepping through it tentatively. It was not nearly as grand as Khaleel’s suite, but it was easily ten times more luxurious than her cruise ship cabin had been. Aurora’s gaze took in the full-size bed, the furnishings that were just as clean and ornate as those in Khaleel’s room, if somewhat smaller and more compact. Her quarters also boasted an ensuite with a shower and a bath, not as huge as her host’s but more comfortable than what she had back in her own apartment.

  Aurora wandered around the room, looking everything over, shaking her head to herself at the strangeness of her circumstances. The drawers in the dresser were sparsely populated with clothes, but there were a few things that Aurora thought she might be able to wear.

  She stripped off her clothes and tossed them into the laundry hamper in the bathroom, stepping into the shower stall and pulling the glass door shut behind her. Khaleel had also provided for toiletries; whether the soap, shampoo, and conditioner in the shower were simply always there for guests, or he had had them provided specifically for her, Aurora didn’t know, but she was grateful to be able to get thoroughly clean. She washed her hair and scrubbed the salt off of her body, standing under the hot water for a few minutes to savor the feeling.

  A little packet left on the bathroom sink had a comb, a brush, and a few other necessities. Aurora dried herself off, combed her hair, and wrapped one of the copious towels around her head before she slipped into a pair of pajamas.

  She looked around the room again, bemused and oddly pleased at her quarters, and tried to decide what she wanted to have to eat. “There has to be some kind of menu,” she said to herself, glancing at the various surfaces in the room.

  There was a phone on a nightstand next to the bed, and a directory of extensions throughout the yacht, just like on a cruise ship. Aurora found no menu, but when she called down to the galley, one of the crew members told her that the menu was fixed for the night by the Sheikh—she could have what the man was eating in his own room, or she could order something she liked, and they would see if they had the supplies. Aurora settled for the same meal that Khaleel had ordered for himself and thanked the crew member. It was early still, but Aurora knew that by the time she ate something, she would be just about ready to turn in for the night.

  EIGHT

  Aurora couldn’t remember how it was that she had ended up back in Miami; but somehow, she was miles away from the boat, wandering around an art gallery—she thought it looked like Spinello Projects. Somehow, the space was much bigger than she recalled it being, hopelessly vast, the walls moving farther away from her the farther she walked. Art flowed around her, wavering and then resolving, and Aurora wondered if she’d somehow managed to drink something spiked. What am I even doing here? I haven’t been to Spinello in months.

  She had no answer; Aurora just knew that she was exactly where she was supposed to be, wandering around and through a sparse crowd, looking for someone in particular—though she couldn’t say who it was she was looking for. She was dressed in a more beautiful cocktail dress than she could remember ever owning, in a deep amethyst color that made her skin glow. Aurora looked around, glancing at fleeting faces in the crowd, trying to remember why it was that she had come to the gallery, and who it was she was looking for.

  Time flowed by without Aurora counting it, and as she wandered around the gallery, she forgot that she had even questioned her presence in the space. She looked at artwork, stopping to admire a painting or a photograph.

  “Aurora, it’s good to see you here.”

  She turned quickly, and her gaze fell on the face of Khaleel. She started, staring at him in shock for what felt like an eternity, unable to quite believe the fact that he was right there in front of her. “Khaleel?”

  “Who were you expecting?”