Pride and Consequence (25 page)

Eddie waved her hand. “Ah, girl, I don't think anything would do that.”

“Now, come on,” Zakira ordered, wiping a lone tear away from her cheek. “Let's get out of this room, so you can go dance with your husband.”

The two stepsisters left the bedroom chattering away. They never noticed Malik standing by the door in the shadows.

The delicious aroma of spicy, bubbling lasagna and buttered French bread greeted Zakira when she arrived home the next evening. She allowed her nose to be her guide and headed for the kitchen. Her loud gasp filled the air when she found Malik there, hard at work mixing something in a huge bowl. She cleared her throat and waited for him to look up.

“Hey. Damn, I was hoping to be finished by the time you got home,” he said.

Zakira waved her hand and walked closer to the kitchen island. She tossed her coat to one of the stools and smiled. “So, why didn't you ever cook like this…before? Or are you only doing this because it's Christmastime?” she teased.

Malik smiled, but didn't look up from his mixture. “I love your cooking more.”

Zakira resisted the urge to toy with one of his dreadlocks. Instead, she sat at the small kitchen table. It was already set intimately for two. Malik finished his Parmesan sauce and began to set out the delicious feast.

Dinner passed quietly and quickly. The thick, gooey lasagna was cut down to only a corner. They were enjoying the flavored coffee, when the silence was finally broken.

“Zaki?”

“Mmm-hmm?”

“How could you ever believe I'd think you were weak?”

Zakira's head snapped up and she frowned across the table at him. “What do you mean by that?”

“You know what I mean,” he assured her, pinning her with his unsettling gaze. “How could you ever think missing me and questioning my actions would make you weak?”

“Have you been talking to Eddie?”

Malik leaned forward and rested his elbows against the table. “No, I haven't been talking to Eddie. But I heard you talking yesterday after the wedding.”

“Oh, so you were eavesdropping?” Zakira asked angrily.

“Dammit, girl, if I hadn't been there, I never would've found out anything,” Malik informed her, becoming angry, as well. “Why didn't you just come talk to me?”

“Because you should've known!” Zakira snapped, slamming her palm against the table. She pushed her chair away and began to pace the checkered linoleum floor. “You should've known what your leaving did to me. It tore me apart. Sure you were sick, but I was dying, too. You didn't care about that, though. You had your plan and you were sticking to it, damn me and what you were doing to me.”

Malik left the table and followed Zakira across the kitchen. “Baby, I didn't mean to make you feel that way.”

“Malik, how'd you think I'd feel? Not only do you tell me that you have cancer and you're dying, but you tell me that you don't want treatment and you're going away to die. Then, I find out you've been living off somewhere for months. How did you expect this to affect me?”

“Love, I'm…I'm sorry,” he told her, his intense stare filled with pain and guilt.

Zakira only shook her head. She tossed her thick curls across her shoulder, then walked over to him and poked her finger into his chest. “Do you have any idea how long it takes to build trust? I don't think men get that part of it. You want to go back to the way it was, but I'm not sure we'll ever get there again.”

Malik's eyes narrowed and he tilted his head slightly. “So are you telling me you don't want to try and get past this? You expect me to just give you up? Is that what you want?”

Zakira cursed the tears that fell from her eyes. “I want—I want us to work this out, I do…But I'm so scared.”

A stunned Malik pressed one hand against his chest and stepped closer to her. “Scared? Of me?”

Zakira went to lean against the oak kitchen island. She stared at the tops of her plum suede pumps and then looked up. “What if you decide it's best for you to leave again?”

Malik squeezed his eyes shut tightly. “That'll never happen.”

“It happened before. I never expected it.”

“Dammit, Zaki why are you doing this?” he asked, frustration tearing away at him.

“Because when you left, I felt like I had nothing. I wanted to die, cooped up in this house with all our memories. I didn't want to hear from anything or anyone. Then I realized that the business was still there and it became my life. All I could really depend on. I don't want to ever feel so helpless again. Hmph, and now you want me to hand over the only thing that kept me going…”

Malik turned away, running both his large hands through his heavy dreads. “I've been thinking about that,” he said, after a long silence.

Zakira propped her hands on her hips and waited for him to continue.

“I want to spend more time in the kitchen and no time up in that office,” he admitted.

“What does that mean?”

Malik grimaced and walked over to the island to sit next to her. “I always hated dealing with all those suppliers. You're a lot better at it than I ever was or ever could be. The way you deal with the business part of the restaurant is far better than I ever have.”

Zakira frowned and watched him as though he were a different person. “I always thought you lived for the business part. It was like you thrived on it.”

“Nah,” Malik disagreed, shaking his head quickly. “I started the restaurant because I loved to cook. Unfortunately, I never counted on business taking me away from that. I think I began to resent it.”

“And?” Zakira said, watching him expectantly.

Malik turned to face her, his fingers absently trailing the line of her thigh visible beneath the high hemline of her plum skirt. “Baby, I don't want our lawyers or the business to stand in the way of us getting back together. We've got a lot to work out, but I think we'll have a better chance if the restaurant isn't standing between us. We should make it legal and move past it.”

“Legal?”

“You handle the business end of both restaurants completely. It's all your call. And I'll take care of the kitchens.”

Zakira's large brown eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why? Not that long ago, you and Tree were trying to sell me on the idea of giving you equal control. Or was I just imagining that?”

Malik's shoulder rose in a lazy shrug. “This is what you want. It's what you worked for. I think I knew it was for the best, but of course, I couldn't admit it at the time. Aside from all that, I love you and I'll do anything to get you back.”

Zakira still appeared unsure. “Malik, I…thank you…but why do I get the feeling you're not really sold on the idea?”

Malik raised his hands. “I am. I mean everything I just said. It's just…”

“What?”

“I should probably know the answer to this question already.”

“Will you please just tell me what you're talking about?”

Malik pushed himself off the island. “I've been gone a long time and even though we've been close since I came back, I know a lot has changed.”

Zakira took a seat on one of the stools skirting the counter. “Like…what?”

“Your feelings,” he clarified, turning to face her.

“I don't know how you can ask me that,” she whispered. “We've slept together more than once since you've been back, remember?”

Malik's slow strides brought him close to Zakira. He trailed one finger down her cheek and smiled. “I'm not talking about sex, Zaki. As fine as you are, you can't tell me that a ton of men weren't trying to break down your door.”

Zakira couldn't stop the tiny chuckle that escaped her. She was very pleased by the compliment, though a little embarrassed. “There haven't been a ton.”

“But some.”

“Business dinners, mostly. They could've escalated into something more had I taken a few of those offers. Despite my anger at you, in all honesty you weren't gone that long. There was nothing that got serious.”

“Not even Michael Renner?”

“It may have become serious, had there not been another man involved,” she announced, her words barely audible.

“Another man? What…other man?”

Zakira shook her head, enjoying his aggravation as she strolled out of the kitchen.

Malik uttered a short, humorless laugh and followed. Stopping her at the desk just inside the living room he braced his hands on either side of her. “Who is he?”

“You. Idiot.”

“Don't tease me,” he whispered, tilting back her chin with his finger.

“I'm not,” she assured him, wrapping her hand around his finger. “I missed you so much. Not being able to feel you against me in bed at night, or in the middle of the day,” she teased, her heart melting at the gorgeous smile he flashed. “There wasn't enough time for me to get over you—never would've been. I still love you.” She ran the back of her hand across his smooth, dark cheek.

“So, where does this leave us now?” Malik asked, pressing his forehead against hers as relief washed over him.

“I don't want to argue anymore, but I can't go through this again.”

Malik nodded. “I can't go through this again, either, Zaki. I talk about my pride getting in the way of my doing the right thing. But it was really my fear. You say you were afraid of my seeing you as weak. It's ironic, because that was my fear, too.”

Zakira's brown eyes narrowed. “Malik…” she whispered.

He turned his face into her hand and kissed her palm. “As much as I love you, I never let you see that part of myself. I always wanted you to think of me as invincible. I did a good job of pulling it off, too, until this cancer took me down a peg. I can't promise you calm waters, Zaki, but whatever happens we'll deal with it. Together. I made a mistake, a big one, and I learned from it. It'll take you a long time to trust me again, I know that, but if you give me a chance, you won't be sorry.”

“I think we can work together, but we have to share everything.
Everything,
Malik. Don't keep anything from me for my own good. I don't care how bad you think it is,” she warned, her gaze steady and serious. “It's going to take a lot of talks like this, if you think you can handle it.”

Malik rose to his full height and gazed down at her. “I can handle it. It'll be one of the hardest things I've ever had to do—learning how
not
to be overprotective—but there's no way I'll give up. I love you, Zaki. I love you with everything in me.”

The happiness Zakira felt was intoxicating, and she hoped the feeling would never end. She was finally able to let down her guard. Her arms encircled his waist, and she smiled up at him. “At least there's one part of our relationship that won't need any work.”

Malik's long, dark brows rose. “What part?”

“This part,” she whispered, pulling his head down to hers.

Their lips met under a feverish kiss. Malik moaned, his tongue thrusting into Zakira's mouth. It felt incredible to have her willing in his arms. His hands wrapped around her hips, and he lifted her atop the kitchen island. He pulled her thighs apart and stepped between them to bury his head in the cleft of her breasts. One hand reached inside her blouse and freed one of the dark mounds from the confines of the lacy plum bra. His mouth sought the firm nipples, and he suckled it passionately.

Zakira threw her head back and let him have his way. She reached beneath his white T-shirt and raked her nails across the muscles that rippled in his strong back.

Their cries of arousal and desire filled the house. They reveled in the love they discovered still existed. Their every fantasy was fulfilled. Malik and Zakira held each other tightly as they lay together in their living room and watched the twinkling white lights on the tree. They each savored the journey that had brought them back into each other's arms.