Midnight on the Sands. Оливия Гейтс

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СКАЧАТЬ last moment with ease and she let out a short, sharp curse word when she came to a stop just behind him, her hair wild around her face, her breathing labored, cheeks flushed pink.

      “Oh, you knew you were going to do that, didn’t you?” she said, gasping and laughing at the same time.

      “Of course I did.” He slid off of Nalah, grimacing as pain shot through his thigh when his feet made contact with the hard ground. The sand was thinner here, the terrain a bit rockier, and his muscle noticed the lack of extra cushion.

      Katharine dismounted, too, and shook her main of coppery hair out, sending the faint scent of vanilla into the air, into him. It was like a sucker punch straight to his gut.

      “Fair enough. If we’d been on my home turf, I would have done the same to you.”

      “Speaking of home turf,” he said, ignoring the tightness of desire that was making itself felt at the apex of his thighs, drowning out any muscle pain he’d been experiencing. “I want to show you something.”

      This hadn’t been part of the plan, but now that they were here it seemed logical somehow. She would want to see this. She’d been connected to Malik, too. There were so few people in his life that were.

      There were so few people in his life, full stop. But it suddenly made sharing this seem vital. If someone else knew, then the memory would have a better chance at living. And maybe it wouldn’t feel quite so heavy on him.

      He led Nalah to the post and tethered her to it, more of a precaution than he probably needed to take, but he didn’t chance things with his horses. Katharine followed his lead.

      “All right, lead the way.”

      “This way.”

      Katharine followed Zahir, her heart still pounding, from the exhilaration of the ride, and from the intense adrenaline high that came just from being with him. Zahir was an experience all on his own. Infuriating, fascinating, arousing. She’d never known anyone like him.

      Certainly Malik hadn’t been like this. He’d been fun. Easygoing. Truthfully, five years ago Zahir hadn’t even been like that. He’d been more of an enigma, always a bit more serious than his brother, but nothing like the man she’d got to know over the past week.

      She followed him to the outcropping of rocks that seemed to have been placed there, everything around it flat and desolate for miles.

      There was a small space between the rocks, just big enough for them to pass through.

      “What is this?” she asked, looking at the green surroundings. The rocks curved inward and offered partial shade, and water trickled down the side of the natural walls.

      “Amal, the Oasis of Hope. This was what drew the first band of my people here to Kadim. Hajar is mostly flat and shelter from the elements is hard to find. They had been walking through the desert for weeks with no reprieve, and they found this outcropping. There was water, shelter.”

      “And eventually a palace nearby. And a city,” she finished.

      “The city came first. But this has always been a special place to my family. Malik and I used to come here as boys. A place we could play, escape the heat and the indoors.”

      She could picture them as they’d been. Boys with no cares. “Things must have seemed simpler then.”

      He shrugged. “Yes and no. I always knew. Always knew that Malik had a heavy burden to carry. I was always grateful that it wasn’t me.” He laughed, the sound cold and flat in the enclosed space. “I have wondered …” He looked down, then back at her. “I have wondered if that’s why I’m left. A trick of fate. I was always much more content with my lot. So happy that it was my brother who bore the responsibility of leadership.” He cleared his throat. “I was a military officer. I should have seen the signs. I should have known.”

      She touched his forearm. “You should have known what?”

      “I should have known what was coming. I’ve seen war. Usually, I … feel things in my gut. That day, there was nothing. I was blindsided. We all were. And I was the only one who had no excuse. It never should have got past me.”

      “You couldn’t have known, Zahir.”

      “I know,” he said harshly. “I know.” He softened his tone. “But sometimes I still think I should have been able to stop it.”

      “No. The only people who could have stopped it are the ones who did it. They could have turned back that day. They didn’t.”

      “All for power. Fools. Power is an empty thing.”

      “Not if you use it right.”

      “And spare few do. Power, the lust of it, is why you’re here and not at home. Why you have to guard Alexander. Because of people who will do anything to get it.”

      “So it’s the ones who don’t want it who do best with it. That’s why you’re such a good leader, Zahir.”

      “And what about you, Katharine the Great?” She arched her brow at the nickname and he pressed on. “What about you and all the responsibility you take on? Is it your job to fix everyone?”

      “Yes. Maybe. I don’t know what else to do. Unlike you, I do feel called to rule. And yet I can’t. I never will. I have to … do something. Find a way to … matter. And if I fix things to accomplish it, then okay. I’ll be the one to fix things.”

      He looked at her for a long time, his dark eyes assessing her, causing prickles of heat to fire beneath her skin, making her want to close the gap between them, then share her warmth. Because he looked cold, and she wanted so badly to make the cold go away for him.

      “You do not need to fix me,” he said, his voice flat.

      Suddenly she realized she didn’t know how. She offered him platitudes. They were even true, but they weren’t … enough. She’d been taught to lead with her head, and it wasn’t enough with Zahir. She wanted to put a bandage on it and call it better, when she doubted if that were even possible.

      She looked at him standing there, a warrior, even if he was a warrior scarred by battle. The scars inside were so much worse than the ones that covered his skin. And she had the swirling, helpless sensation of knowing she wouldn’t be enough for him. That she would never be able to reach him.

      “It was easier today,” Zahir said, entering the library.

      Katharine set her book aside and treated him to one of her easy smiles, a sight he’d become more accustomed to than he should have. More than he’d like to admit.

      “I’m glad.”

      The drive into town today had been easier. They had been getting progressively so. The touch of Katharine’s hand, her face, they anchored him. Kept him in the present. Ironic since he had attributed the flashbacks to her, to his losing control.

      The wedding was another matter. Hundreds of people with their eyes trained on them, the chance for him to either emerge in triumph, or humiliate his people. His family name. It was hard to explain, even to himself, what he thought might happen in that situation. The possibility of lost time, a loss of control, with СКАЧАТЬ