Didn't You Promise (A Bad for You Novel) (23 page)

They’re breaking the tension with small talk. She’s flirting. This is the part I saw on the promo. Now it doesn’t enrage me. I’m still swallowing stones from before the ad break.

“
There’s no denying you’ve captured the attention and imagination of ladies around the globe.
How does it feel to be referred to as the world’s most desirable bachelor?
”

Haithem laughs, and scoots forward, but unlike the promo this time we get his answer. “
It feels...grossly inaccurate.
I’m no bachelor.
”

Jessica’s eyes stretch. “
There’s a Mrs.
Soltan?
”

I hold my breath, pulse racing under my skin.

“
There will be if I can convince her to have me.
”

My heart doesn’t slow, just skips a beat.

“
I
find it hard to believe a woman could be capable of resisting you?
”

Haithem lowers his voice as though he’s telling a secret. “
Then you underestimate what a jackass I can be.
”

Jessica stifles a giggle. “
Can you at least tell us what happened to make a woman let go of someone like you?
”

“
That’s between she and I
,
Jessica.
”

She wants to pry, it’s there in the purse of her lips. Instead she takes a deep breath. “
Would you share then
,
the impact your parents’ passing has had on you?
”

Haithem doesn’t move. His eyes narrow a fraction, and his gaze falls down. “
That’s not something I’ve analyzed.
” He looks at Jessica from under a frown, as though he’s confessing a sin. “
I
simply reacted and attempted to ensure it wasn’t for nothing.
Then tried to prevent anything like that from happening again.
”

“
Did that work?

He nods. “
Sure
,
at first.
”

“
Then what happened?
”

The camera swings wide, then narrows in on Haithem, focusing on the way his jaw works in the corners. I swallow. He won’t answer this. He’s already strayed so far out of his comfort zone he’ll have to charter a plane to get back to himself.

“
I
grew complacent
,
arrogant maybe
,
after five years things started to feel safe and I took risks...
” He rubs his hand over his mouth. “
I
never meant to draw someone into my life.
”

Oh god, he’s going to talk about us.
He can’t
. I press a hand to my chest, then glance around for my phone.
Shit
. This would be prerecorded. It’s too late to warn him he doesn’t need to do this.

The television flicks back to Jessica.

She shifts forward. “
But someone did
,
didn’t they?
Someone got drawn in?
”

His head snaps up, his gaze becomes focused. He’s back to himself.

Thank god.

His next words are careful. “
Only as far as I’d let them.
”

I breathe out.

“
I
thought that if you can’t protect the people you love—then nothing else matters.
That nothing is as important as survival.
”

“
And now?
” Jessica asks.

“
Now I think that surviving is not enough.
” His brows lift, he’s not quite smiling, but his expression
opens
. “
That if we’re not living
,
then there’s no point existing.
”

I sit back on my heels, a gray haze in my vision blurs the screen.

Could he mean that?

“
Sometimes it takes losing what you most value to understand the value of everything.
”

My head spins. The entire room does. If I were outside, then the world would too.

The segment finishes on those words. A background track takes the program back to the studio desk, where Jessica wraps up with commentary. I turn off the television, and stare at the black plasma as though it might provide me with that extra something I need to process.

Then, suddenly, all the pieces collide.

Chapter Thirty-Four

I dive for the cell phone still resting on the arm of the sofa, roll back onto the floor and punch in the number. The line rings. Rings, and rings. I run my fingers through my hair, squeeze my hand closed at the back where it’s still damp. The line clicks and the ringing stops.

The line goes dead.

I pull the phone from my ear and stare at the screen.
Perhaps I dialed it wrong?
I close my eyes and repeat the number still embedded in my memory after all these months, then open my eyes and type that number in again, one finger, and one digit at a time. Then I scan each number, reading the whole thing back aloud before touching the pad of my index finger to the call button, and bringing the phone up to my ear. It rings. I shut my eyes once more and breathe, listen.

Ring
,
ring
,
ring.

The line drops out, and something in my chest drops too. I set the phone down on the carpet next to my thigh, then leap to my feet, and run to the bedroom. The door bounces off the wall with a shudder. I drop down in front of the bedside table, pull out the entire drawer and dump the contents onto the floor. I push aside junk, and find a flash of gold.

I hold the watch I somehow brought myself to remove.

“
No matter what happens
,
no matter where you are
,
you press this and I’ll be there for you.
”

I stroke my thumb over the watch face. Would this still work? A rap sounds on the front door reaching into my bedroom. I slide the watch into my pocket and tighten the robe, and stride to the front door.

Whoever it is, they’ll have to come back later.

I turn the key and then the handle, leaving the newly installed chain in place, and yank the door open a crack.

Haithem fills the gap in the doorway. I slam the door shut, slide the chain free, then throw the door wide. He steps inside. The door swings closed behind him. I back up, not sure what to say or where to stand. He approaches me. As fit as he is, he’s panting. Moisture beads his nose and coats his forehead, and has the hair at his hairline curling.

He’s been running.

My gaze sucks him in. No jacket, sleeves pushed up. His clothes are wrinkled and he’s fresh off a plane if I’m not wrong.

“There’s something I couldn’t say on the interview,” he puffs out.

He knows I watched, but then, the whole world’s been watching.

“Something you need to hear in person.” He wipes his forehead on the back of his hand, then sets the entire magnificence of his gaze on me.

“I can let you go if you ask me to,” he says. “But I’ll never give up. I’ll work forever if that’s how long it takes to figure this out.” He reaches for me but I can’t back away. He takes my hand, pushing it against his chest. “I gave this to you, and I don’t know how to take it back.” His heart hammers against my palm. I feel every rapid beat. “I can’t change who I was, or what I’ve done, but I can give you who you’ve helped me become.”

I watch every movement of his lips.

“So tell me, Angel, will you have me?”

I stare into the deep dark depth of his eyes. Then reach my free hand into my pocket, close my hand around the cool gold watch, and find the switch, squeezing it between my fingers.

Next to my hand, his pocket vibrates, then a sharp ring echoes through the room. A look comes over him. He glances at the hand pushed into the pocket of my robe. There must be a ringtone reserved for me.

“I’ll take your forever,” I say, then pull the watch from my robe and slide it into his breast pocket next to his cell phone. “But we’ll be working at it together.”

He sweeps me off my feet—literally lifting me off the ground and I never want to land again. I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck.

My robe parts, reminding me that I’m mostly nude. We kiss. I slide my fingers into the back of his hair, gripping it between my knuckles. I melt like ice over the heat of him. His mouth shifts against mine, just a stir of motion—like he’s drinking the puddle that is me. He carries me to the bedroom, lays me down. Peels open my robe as though unveiling the jackpot of all prizes. His movements slow, satin slides over my skin, yet it’s the caress of his gaze that has me moaning.

He takes forever to undress me. Maybe because for the first time we actually have
forever
. He tugs one sleeve over my shoulder trapping an arm. Then kisses me there at the soft part of my upper arm.

I’m drunk on feelings, and crammed full of bliss.

He does the same to the other side. Then slides the robe down, and frees my arms. He runs his big hands from my naked neck to my naked knees. His touch, the drag of his fingers on my skin, runs on loop for my body to absorb a step at a time. A process. Like holding champagne in my mouth, first it’s a fizz on my tongue, I swallow, taste it, then it fills me. His touch is like that, conquering my senses one by one.

His lips press into the base of my neck. I run my fingers down his back, gripping his shirt but don’t pull the cotton free. I revel in the vulnerability of lying naked under this fully clothed man. I soak in the luxury of this gradual pace.

We have all the time.

He strokes my belly, the curve of my waist, the outside of my thigh. I bow into his touch as though greeting the sun.

We are free.

Chapter Thirty-Five

One year later.

I’ve experienced more than a few miracles in my time. Like the way you can still feel a person when they are gone. Or the way fate can quite literally knock you off your feet and land you someplace unbelievable. Like in a lifeboat on a yacht in the middle of the ocean. I’ve done things I’d never have believed possible. With Haithem, together we’ve achieved more than cleaning up a little smog. We’ve influenced policies, bailed out nations, funded research for blood cancers that has meant not only better treatments, but now the idea of a cure is no longer a matter of
if
, but of
when
.

I’ve seen my name up in lights in New York, Sydney and Rome.

Yet, of everything we’ve done, and all that we’ve been through, this right here, right now, is the greatest moment I’ve ever known.

I’m walking down the aisle.

Holding my father’s arm, striding towards a man whose very existence seems surreal. This is supposed to be too good to be true, but sometimes life throws you a bone. So maybe the one I caught is colossal, Jurassic even, but I’ll never let it go.

I take another step in the shoes I’ve been breaking in all week.

I’d thought a wedding would be nothing more than a formality. Signing on a dotted line for something we already live. But as I cross through a path of fairy lights at midnight, an outdoor orchestra of strings putting a melody to the magic of our love, it’s my heart performing pyrotechnics.

Maybe it’s the eyes of the world on us. The helicopters circling overhead. The cameras going off in a symphony of flashes like fireworks. But I see him waiting, hands held in front of him, the way he watches me move closer, and this is more than a certificate or the changing of names.

This is us falling into place.

This is where we become not just lovers, best friends, and soul mates, but husband and wife. We reach the bridal arch where he waits. It’s decorated with lights instead of flowers. Dad lifts my veil, kisses my cheek, then Haithem takes my hand. Our fingers touch, and we create our own electricity.

The vows we speak are our own. Then, I say I do.

“I told you a big wedding would be worth it.”

I glance up at my husband. “That’s because you don’t do understated.”

He grins and takes a sip of champagne. We’ve snuck off from our own wedding, but I couldn’t resist coming out here to the balcony off the honeymoon suite just to look down on it all. The music wafts up to where we are, weaving a romantic enchantment around us. Not that we’d need music for that. The aroma of Florence in summer is enough. Warm Italian air that compels you to dance in the moonlight. To take off your shoes and hold hands with the people around you. My body sways towards his, but I take one last look down.

Mum and Dad laugh with friends at a table glowing with candlelight. Everyone we love is here. Emma dances with Avner. Together they make quite a sight. Her in her ivory bridesmaid’s dress, and him in the triple black we’ve chosen to echo the bride and groom. She’s giving him that melt-for-me command with her eyes that renders any other woman for miles invisible. Maybe I should have warned her about him before she started playing in flames. But Emma’s a big girl.

Avner won’t know what’s hit him.

Haithem hands me the glass of champagne.

I shake my head. “No, thanks. Don’t think I’ll be drinking much anymore.”

He frowns slightly, then his brow smoothes. His glass meets the flat stone railing with a clink, then I’m in his arms, and we’re moving through the balcony doors. He sets me on the bed, shuts the doors, then he’s standing over me. Looking down at me in a way that tells me my handmade dress is at risk at being torn off.

“Wait.” I laugh.

Considering the particular Italian designer who made this dress, it’d be sacrilege even to me.

His gaze scans me, resting on my stomach, not that there’s much to see under yards of fabric. “Tell me.”

He reaches for the hem of my wedding gown, and begins drawing it up. It’s over my knees, and harder to remember what I was trying to tell him.

“That’s not what I meant.”

He slows a little, but doesn’t stop until there’s enough lace to curtain a village bunched under my arms. He runs his fingers over my bare abdomen, slightly bloated from our wedding feast. He brushes over the place where my white thong begins. “So what did you mean?”

I swallow and lean up onto my elbows. This is harder than I thought. Not sure why, when Haithem wants a baby. His timeline for parenthood is pretty much him being on standby until the moment I say okay.

“I meant that I’ve stopped taking the pill.”

He glances up from my belly, then climbs over me, resting his hand beside my head. “Sorry, my love, but I’m going to make you spell it out.”

His breath comes fast. His hips settle between mine. Fabric can’t hide that he’s hard.

Hard because he knows what I want and what it means. The bastard wants me to say it out loud though—ask him to do it.

My lips tremble even though I actually want to say it. Want to say it out loud because while sometimes the most amazing things take us by surprise, I want to take this next thing for myself.

I want us to choose it together.

I want him to hold me and to fuck me with the intention of putting a part of himself inside me. I touch his face, sliding my palm over his cheek, then grip the back of his head and pull him closer.

“Put your baby in me, Haithem.”

He groans. The rumble moves from his chest to mine and tightens my nipples. He rocks his hips against mine, and I groan too.

“Tell me what do you want, a girl or a boy?”

I laugh, but hold him tighter. As though he could control such a thing. But if he wants a challenge I’ll give him a real one. “One of each, give me twins.”

My chest pings.

His features soften, filled with so much more than the lust we started out with. “If effort counts for anything, then that’s what you’ll get.” He leans in and kisses my lips. “We’ll just have to do it twice as often.”

I curl my fingers in the back of his hair and give it a little tug. “And twice as hard.”