The Contract (13 page)

yet I took advantage of the situation, because of my own weakness…her obvious offer…”

He paused and said almost mockingly, “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I was a better man

than that. I still am, and I hope you’ll believe that of me. Try to believe it. I haven’t given you any

reason not to, have I, Shahira?”

She shook her head but found no words to comfort him.

“I have great respect and admiration for you. You’ve made a great deal of difference in my life,

especially what you’ve done with Natasha. She’s healthier, happier, surer of herself now because of

you. I can’t thank you enough for that.”

He paused and added, “I wish you’d let me return the favor. Shahaan needs a father just as much as

Natasha needed a mother. Or are you one of those superwomen who can do it all on their own?”

She didn’t reply. She felt nervous and confused. She was both happy to hear the words he said, and

dreaded that they might not mean to him as much as they did to her.

“I guess our contract, if left that way, would allow you to be that but I really do want to help with

the kids. I’ve wanted a real family for so long. I always did but that woman took it all away from me.

You could be the woman to give it all back to me, Shahira…if you wanted. I really wish you would.”

It seemed to Shahira that the air stilled; everything stopped, waited on bated breath for her

response, but her voice was stuck in her throat and her heart sank in dismay and dread. She wasn’t

ready for that level of sharing. She couldn’t trust him. Not another man who would hurt her, and use

and abuse her, turn her into a cipher because of his own limitations. A part of her brain said that

Hussain was not that kind of man, that he was emotionally secure and good-hearted. But she couldn’t

find her voice.

That eternity of silence ended at last when Hussain spoke and his voice was cold, impersonal.

“No need to look so horrified, Shahira. It was merely a suggestion. I gave you my word. That’s

something I’ve always kept, even when I was being the worst caricature of myself.”

He made a move to return to the room, stopped and added, “Just for the record, I’ve never said

anything close to what I just did to you, not to any woman since Rutaba…and I never felt anything like

this for her.”

≈

ELEVEN

It had been three weeks since their return, and Shahira had fallen back into her routine. Everything

was the same, and yet there was this emptiness that hadn’t been there before. It was something similar

to the void she’d felt when her parents passed away; only now she couldn’t understand the reason for

this new emptiness.

Aunty Salma had commented at her preoccupation, but she didn’t know how to make an effort even

with her, or what to do about it, since she didn’t really know what was wrong with her. So Shahira

went through her daily duties like an automaton. She fell asleep every night thinking how happy she

had been with this life, and she wished with all her might that she could go back to that state of mind,

when everything had seemed so perfect.

They’d parted on cordial terms, but there had been tension in the air and Hussain hadn’t come back

with them, instead he’d flown straight on to the U.S. They’d had such a good time. She wished it

hadn’t ended the way it did. She couldn’t get that conversation out of her head and she felt deflated,

anchorless. It was almost as if some part of her was missing.

A huge mental block reared its head and she couldn’t think beyond it. She thought of the burden

he’d lived with. She couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for him, suspecting Natasha wasn’t

his daughter. No wonder he’d found it difficult to stay with her. She was the exact replica of her

mother. Now she knew how much hurt and resentment his late wife had inflicted. How terrible it must

have been for him—her unfaithfulness, his suspicions about Natasha. He was very brave to trust

another woman enough to offer her what he had to her. He’d been badly hurt in his marriage just like

she had.

Shahira knew she’d lost faith in love long ago. As a young girl, she’d tamed any romantic

inclinations, knowing her parents’ constraints, but after her horrible marriage she’d lost the ability to

trust anyone again. She’d never give to another man that power over herself. She just couldn’t allow

that to happen.

She put her little trinkets into her cupboard, her mind far away, still thinking of those wonderful

times they’d had in Europe spent laughing and having a good time, just…fun. Lost in thoughts of the

wonderful time spent together, she turned towards her bed and gasped.

The connecting door between their rooms stood open and framed in it was Hussain, looking tired

and miserable. He watched her silently for some time, unmoving and unblinking. “Let’s play a game,”

he said as he moved forward towards her.

His voice was low, as if he was afraid to hear himself. He closed the distance between them

slowly, almost reluctantly. “Let’s pretend that you really are my wife. That there is no stupid

contract…just us.”

He reached her and hesitantly, he touched her cheek with his fingertips, “And that you missed me,

and that you’d be happy to hear it if I said that I missed you terribly.”

Her hands were limp by her side and he took one and then the other in his, entwining his fingers

with hers, and putting his forehead against hers, he whispered, “I missed you, Shahira.”

She couldn’t move or protest or do anything but stand there, immobile and thrilled, listening to the

staccato beating of her heart. His words had been spoken softly yet they raged in her mind and her

heart.

“Did you miss me? Even a little?”

“Yes…”

The admission stumbled out of her unconscious and her mouth, unbidden. She felt, rather than saw

him smile.

“I’d hoped you might.” He shifted his head slightly and put his rough cheek against hers, just for a

moment, the duration of a heartbeat, and then slowly he closed the breath of distance between them

and his lips found hers. Shahira’s eyes closed of their own accord and she melted against him. It was

the softest touch of lips, like a promise, or the fulfillment of one.

She felt bereft when his hands and his lips were no longer on hers. She opened her eyes. His eyes

were searching hers and then his handsome face broke into a slow smile.

“Will you come with me tomorrow?”

Shahira nodded. If he’d asked if she’d jump out of the window she’d have said yes too.

His smiled widened.

“Good. Till tomorrow then.”

And he left.

* * *

When she woke up the next morning, Shahira was sure she’d dreamed the whole episode. Yet, she

jumped out of bed, dressed quickly and rushed downstairs.

And there he was…sitting at the table with both the children and Aunty. His eyes lit up when he

saw her, and he smiled. But he didn’t say anything more than the usual greeting.

“We don’t want to go to school today,” Natasha protested but before Shahira could say anything,

Hussain replied firmly, “No, missing school is out of the question. And anyway, I have things to

discuss with your Mom.”

Shahira’s heart skipped a beat.

When the kids left, Hussain turned to his mother and said hesitantly, “Ami, I need a favor.”

“Of course,
beta
whatever you want.”

“Ami…er…there are a couple of meetings I have in Paris with some Arab investors. Shahira met

them last time we were there, and dare I say, they were
almost
as enamored by her as you are. So

they’re expecting her this time as well. Do you think you can look after the kids for three or four days

so Shahira could accompany me?”

Aunty Salma stared at him for just a moment too long and then her face broke into a smile and she

said, “Of course, I can. When do you want to leave?”

“Tonight.”

“Oh…well, okay. No problem.” And she started off about some family gossip.

Shahira felt as if a heavy weight had settled on her chest. So that’s what it was: he just wanted an

assistant, an interpreter. It was all nonsense that he’d missed her. He must have thought he’d soften the

dried up woman starving for attention and love, and then use her. He was no different after all. She

laughed at herself bitterly, silently, for having even entertained the thought that it could have been

something else, something more than just tawdry manipulation. Everything he’d said and done had an

end. It wasn’t real. None of it was real.

Later that evening, he knocked and entered her room awkwardly, as if unsure of his ground. “I hope

you’re okay with this?”

He was watching her closely. She didn’t bat an eyelid.

He added, his voice a little unsure “It’s not something that you
don’t
want to do, is it? I don’t want

to force the issue. So tell me honestly, if you’d rather not. Although…”

“I’ve never been without Shahaan even for a day.”

She interrupted him tonelessly. She didn’t want to hear his excuses or his manipulative lies.

“I know. That’s why I said just three days—even though that’s hardly any time at all but let’s not

worry about that now, okay? They’ll be fine with Ami and Susan’s here to help. If you’re okay with

this?”

She nodded.

“Shahira…”

She looked up.

“Thanks for making the effort. It means a lot to me. I know you’re taking a great leap of faith going

alone with me.”

She smiled and nodded. He seemed to hesitate, his eyes questioning and she gave him an over-

bright smile to assure him his little stunt hadn’t bothered her at all. He gave her one of his long,

impenetrable looks.

“You’re not having second thoughts are you?”

“Certainly not. Very excited, in fact.”

He laughed. “Glad to hear it.” He came forward and whispered, “You have no idea how glad I am

to hear it.”

He took her mouth with his in a slow gentle kiss. She felt tears prick her eyes. No. Not again. She

broke the kiss and moved away.

“Shahira?”

“We should get ready. We leave in two hours, don’t we?” Shahira asked, even as her heart wrung

with this new pain. She’d been stupid enough to trust a man again. She deserved this. She deserved

every bit of it.

The children were inconsolable at the thought of losing both of them together, but Hussain said he

would talk to them alone and explain. So he took them to his room, saying he needed to speak to them

about something very important and after fifteen minutes when they came back, both wore identical

grins and their eyes were sparkling.

Shahira raised an eyebrow at Hussain and he shrugged. He had a bit of a grin, too. After that they

were no trouble at all. In fact they saw them off rather enthusiastically.

In the car, on the way to the airport she asked, still slightly put off, “What did you say to them?”

He gave a short laugh and said, “I don’t know whether you can be trusted with the information yet.

Maybe, I’ll tell you. Depends.”

Throughout the flight he was just as attentive as he’d always been to her but she wasn’t falling for

this routine again. They went to the same hotel they’d stayed at last time, only this time their suite had

just one bedroom.

Hussain seemed almost apprehensive.

“Would you like some tea? Or anything else?”

“No, I’m fine, thanks.”

“Well then...er…just make yourself comfortable.”

Then, as an after-thought, he added with half a smile, “And I do mean, make yourself comfortable,

like you were the other night.”

She looked at him, confused. He smiled almost mischievously and Shahira suddenly recalled that

he’d caught her in her lingerie the other night. Instead of feeling embarrassed, as she would have

normally, she felt insulted and angry. How dare he bring that night up, after using her so brutally for

his own petty ends?

In some spirit of vengeance or stupidity, she’d brought along a couple of her sexiest La Perla

lingerie and taking out one lacy red and black little number, she took a luxuriant fragrant bath, lathered

herself in expensive smelling body lotion as extra armor. She came out, determined to be the
femme

fatale
and not the scared little girl Hussain took her to be.

But when she came out he was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly deflated, she sought the comfort of

the bed, feeling tears of defeat sting her eyes.

She didn’t know how long she’d been hiding under the covers, it seemed like hours, but was in fact

not more than fifteen minutes perhaps, when she heard Hussain come in and after a while get into bed.

Every nerve in her body was alive and aware of him. This sensation was entirely new to her, and it

was uncomfortable in a thrilling sort of way.

“Shahira?”

“Yes?”

“I was afraid you’d gone to sleep.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, and determined to confront him, she said in a quivering voice,

“I will as soon as you explain to me why it was so important for the Arabs to have me at a business

meeting. And why you had to pretend with all that sappy stuff to get me here. I would’ve come if