Shadow of Love (23 page)

‘
I’m sorry to leave this lovely meal,’ he said pleasantly, his voice cheerful enough to make it clear how little sorry he actually was. If his grandmother could play by her own rules, so could he.

‘
I need to show Emily around, so she won’t get lost tonight.’ A weak round of laugher followed his words. It died instantly, his grandmother’s dark eyebrows forming one disapproving line. ‘Please, don’t let us stop you from enjoying the rest of it, while we will go see our rooms.’

He took Emily’s hand and pulled her to her feet, all the other eyes watching them with something he could risk calling a newfound respect. Nobody in the family stood up to Grandmother; her words and wishes were paramount to the whole clan. The fact that he defied her, smoothly and diplomatically, meant something, judging by the appreciative glances from his uncles.

Once outside the room, he had to let Emily go, her slim hand finding its way out of his grip as she stepped aside, putting an extra foot of distance between them.

‘
That was something, wasn’t it?’ He asked, a smile playing around his mouth. He didn’t want to let go of the feeling of camaraderie as she smiled back, her dark eyes relieved.

‘
I wasn’t prepared to see all of your family,’ she acknowledged, easily adjusting her steps to his smooth stride. ‘Neither were they, as it turns out.’

‘
I didn’t want to make it too official,’ he admitted, opting for honesty. ‘My grandmother tends to get territorial, still thinking that the fact that we are related means me agreeing to her demands, no matter what. It’s the way things happen here, and it’s all she knows.’

‘
She’s not what I expected,’ Emily admitted, her lovely face serious. ‘I thought she would be one of those calm, dark-clad ladies living in the past.’

‘
No way.’ He was grinning now. ‘If there is one thing I really respect about her, it’s how determined and headstrong she is. She is running this family; don’t you doubt it for a moment.’

‘
What about our rooms?’ Was it an edge of worry in her voice? He had explained to her back in England how unfounded it would be for her to worry about the accommodations. It was Egypt, after all. Even a modern western man like himself could hardly walk into his family’s home and demand a room to share for himself and his girlfriend. Only married couples could share the bed, the rest of the couples safely separated by walls and locked doors.

He knew that if he insisted, neither his grandmother nor the rest of the family could do anything about it. It was tempting for a second or two, but the temptation was soon erased as he imagined the way it would reflect upon Emily and the way she was treated. For whatever reason, it
was
important for him to know she was respected, even though their short relationship wasn’t necessarily giving her any hope to come here ever again. Still, he would do it the right way, he promised himself, as Afiz guided them to the wing of the house with guest rooms. The housekeeper reappeared at their side, as if charmed by magic, his short stout figure and white beard making James think of a genie.

‘
Madam has plenty of rooms for all her guests,’ he said to Emily, his brown eyes twinkling. ‘God willing, maybe one day they can be transformed into children’s rooms.’ Raising his eyes to heaven, he sighed deeply, before peeking at Emily with sly eyes. There was no way to misunderstand his hint, James thought, realizing what kind of hopes his reappearance had stirred in their house.

Emily handled it well; he had to give her that. She smiled at the older man, her eyes mischievous. He could tell that she had scored at least one admirer in that house, Afiz’s eyes softening in response. He liked her, James thought, watching the older man trot alongside her, briefing her in on the history of the house.

‘
Did Mr. James told you that the house is built on the site of an ancient temple, Miss?’ He was asking, his brown eyes round and full of admiration for the slim, brown-haired girl who showed just enough interest in his favorite topic to make her an ally for life.

‘
Really?’ she asked, genuinely interested. ‘Who was it dedicated to?’

‘
Isis,’ Afiz replied, ready to launch himself into an explaining tirade. ‘She was the Goddess of love and marriage and—.’

‘
I know who she was.’ Emily smiled, her eyes soft. ‘The wife of Osiris and mother of Horus. I always liked the story about her going on a search for her husband’s body, never giving up. In the end she managed to bring him back to life.’

‘
Very true.’ Afiz beamed, his face wrinkled into a smile bright enough to light up the shadowy corridor they were passing. ‘Long time ago, there was a small temple right here, where Madam has her courtyard. Nothing is left, except for a few figurines and a crumbling monument. The archeologists from the city came to look at it and maybe try moving it to the museum, but Madam would have none of it. It’s on our land, she said, and that’s where it is going to remain. Don’t say anything, Miss, but I suspect that she was afraid of the wrath of Isis, even though, of course, she doesn’t worship any of our ancient gods.’

There was the proof that Emily had successfully conquered the older man’s heart. Loyal and discreet, Afiz would rather die than say anything unflattering or private about his mistress. The fact that he spoke about her weaknesses to Emily could mean only one thing—he liked her and considered her part of the family.

Which was a problem, of course. Because James didn’t want to consider her anything more than exactly what they had agreed upon just days ago. She was a fraud, lovely and tempting, but a fraud, nevertheless. She had agreed to help him in return for getting back the place that meant the world to her, nothing more. They had an agreement, he reminded himself as they finally arrived at the end of the corridor. An agreement and nothing else, his foolish hopes something to be squashed before things got out of hand.

Maybe it was the fault of the balmy Egyptian air gently moving the tall, plume-like grasses around the house in a hypnotic, repetitive motion. Or maybe it was the dark rich soil, bursting with life under his feet.

It didn’t matter what it was. He would remember why they were here and do his best to play the part in the drama he himself had created. Even if it meant silencing the more and more persistent voice that kept whispering into his head that he had miscalculated his strength. That if he didn’t watch out, he might lose the battle against his most formidable foe—his own heart.

She liked the room, Emily thought, as she looked around, relieved to be left alone at last. James had been around for the last few hours, and she was getting unsettlingly used to his presence. She would love to find him annoying, overbearing, and plain old bossy, she thought wretchedly, as she walked around the large, opulent room. Her eyes went over the gold-embroidered curtains of her four-poster bed, barely registering their beauty. In her mind, she still saw his dark eyes and the slanted smile that was becoming annoyingly familiar. He was much more interesting and compelling than she expected him to be.

Thank God, their rooms were not too close together. It didn’t matter that his grandmother must have organized it to be so for her own reasons. She was gloriously alone, left to recover from her immersion into his company that was becoming easier and easier to accept.

She lay down on the bed, praying to all gods, ancient or not, to keep away any members of his family. They would most probably not approve of her stretched atop the expensive-looking embroidered coverlet.

The room was very big, making her think that most of her flat back at home would fit easily into it. The walls were painted burnt ochre, going beautifully with the terracotta tiles in orange and brown covering its floor. The furniture was minimal; something she has been getting used to in an Egyptian home—just the monster of a bed occupying the main space, plus a night table and a large commode with a mirror in a silver frame. The windows were large and covered with shutters, making her wonder what was on the other side. Unable to contain her childish excitement, she got up and walked across the room, to the large antelope hide lying in front of the bed. Looking briefly at the exotic pattern of stripes going across its tanned beige skin, she felt her heart race. She was here, in Egypt. Not the way she planned or wanted, but definitely here, in a true Egyptian home erected on the site of a temple worshiping one of the most famous deities of the Black Land.

Her hands went to the windows, cautiously working her way with the latches. Afiz didn’t open the shutters for her as they walked in, most probably thinking she would enjoy the cool shade blocking out the afternoon sun. But she wanted to see what was on the other side, easily compromising her comfort for the promise of yet another picturesque view.

She wasn’t disappointed. The window opened, and she stared outside, her mouth open in delighted surprise. The courtyard lying there was absolutely stunning, starting with the large pots filled with blooming trees and flowers and ending with the large rectangular basin filled with sparkling, silvery water. Surrounded by clumps of papyrus and blue, iridescent allium globes, it promised coolness and refreshment to all who chose to rest beside it. The sweet intoxicating scent must have come from the blooming orange and lemon trees, a sudden gust of wind carrying the fragrance to her nostrils. Or maybe it was the rose bush, covered with pale pink, luxurious blooms that climbed around the columns in an intoxicating rampage of color.

True to the local religious customs, there were no statues of people or animals around the patio. Instead, the walls themselves displayed an intricate, highly detailed web of patterns. Emily’s enchanted eyes soon gave up on following the interlocked squares and octagons. It was peaceful, beautiful, and serene, she thought, wishing to climb over her window and explore that hidden gem of architecture.

She could just imagine what James’s family would say. She restrained herself, turning away from the window and the temptation it offered. Instead, she could do with some freshening up, she decided, eyeing the small travelling bag that held all her outfits for the following four days. She hadn’t packed anything too exciting, firstly because she didn’t own any of those breathtaking fashion statements that seemed to be the norm in James’s house, and also because she wasn’t here on a pleasure trip. She had to remember the true reason of her coming along, the practical and simple things she chose good enough to serve their purpose.

She chose her only elegant dress for tonight, thinking that it was the most important day of all, the first impression always the one to be remembered the longest. Along with some t-shirts, pants, and long-sleeved shirts she planned to use for sightseeing, this dress was meant to slip into a more sophisticated role if needed. It looked as if she could need it soon, she thought wryly, as she carefully unpacked it, congratulating herself on buying something care- and wrinkle-free instead of those gorgeous, but oh so fragile, silk creations she had seen on the women in the salon. Most probably they never had to iron them themselves, she thought as she laid her dress on the bed, smoothing out some of the few wrinkles it suffered. It was a wine-red creation with three-quarter sleeves and a square neckline, reaching past her knees. She tried to be thoughtful and respect the local customs, picking something a bit more traditional and less revealing. Although after seeing Layla in her ultramodern and slightly risqué pearl grey number, she wasn’t so sure any more if it was needed.

She left the dress to rest on the bed and grabbed her cosmetic bag, heading for the spacious bathroom that was cleverly added to the room. Afiz told her that the house had undergone a major renovation a few years ago, the more Spartan and traditional layout replaced with the sybaritic row of luxurious and self-contained suites for the guests.

Thank God for that, she thought as she allowed herself to relax under the jet of water, thousands of tiny cold needles massaging and reviving her skin until it glowed. The knots in her back dissolved into a pleasant tiredness, making her think of bed and rest. She couldn’t take a nap, could she? Was it the air of this land that made her feel like succumbing to its timeless rhythm of life? Or was it her fear of going out of the room and confronting the world, James in particular?

To make herself feel more confident, she spent a much longer time with her makeup. Applying mascara to her long, curly lashes, she had to think of Layla and her lovely, almond-shaped eyes. She looked like an Egyptian princess, she mused, acutely aware of her own shortcomings. She would never be as beautiful or as graceful, she realized, her own familiar face staring at her from the large mirror.

Which didn’t matter, she hurriedly added, her fingers fast as she applied just a smidge of the apricot-colored rouge that went beautifully with her naturally pale skin. Adding a touch of her favorite perfume behind her ears and into the hollow of her neck finished it off, as she eyed herself in the mirror once again. It would have to do, she decided, walking over to the bed and picking up the dress. She would put it on in just a moment, she decided, giving in to her wish to stretch out on the coverlet for just a moment. She was done, wasn’t she? James told her they would travel to Alexandria tonight, combining his meeting with her first exposure to the hidden side of his hotelier and restaurant business. In the two hours he planned to be away, she would get a chance to talk to his hotel manager and tour the place.

She decided to lie down for a moment, her whole body still too excited to relax properly. The large, rectangular pillows with matching embroidery were too scratchy, so she removed them unceremoniously and rested her head in the crook of her elbow. Her eyes closed almost instantly, the stresses of the last few days finally catching up with her. Before she knew it, she was asleep.