Turkish Delights Series (11 page)

He sighed, drained his drink, and tried to cast his mind to the office girl. She’d make a fine wife, he was certain. It seemed proper that they would be together. Her father was one of his construction subs. They had plenty in common. He had his place now. He only had to move his few meager sticks of furniture and his mother into it. The apartment had a separate suite equipped with a kitchen and everything just for her. He stared out the window, unable to move, unable to do anything resembling productive. Vivian was here, still. He sensed her, craved her, and he couldn’t do anything about it. Even though he’d defiled her, taken her virginity like the commoner he was then dismissed her, he would never be the same as long as she was not by his side, sharing his life and all his successes.

Burak joined him at the window. “I am picking Lillian up after the dance. She had to go. Had made a promise to her cousin to accompany him months ago.” Levent held up a hand. “No, my friend, my brother, I will not stop. This is killing both of you. Lillian says Vivian has stopped going to school, sits in her room staring at walls, and won’t talk to anyone. She won’t eat or anything. You are a man grown with a successful life. You don’t require permission to be with the woman you love.”

Levent stared at him. “I swear to
Allah
those are the most words I’ve ever heard you string together at one go my brother.” Burak shrugged. “And all on behalf of my love life. How sweet. You’re going soft. I must let our former commander know. Perhaps you need another couple of years back at the Syrian border, hmm?” Levent wasn’t sure why he was being such a jerk. But jealousy and frustration all roiled in him, making him speak before he thought—something he rarely did.

“I’m not gonna hug you or anything, so don’t get any ideas.”

Levent’s laughter was harsh, even to his own ears. “No, no, I’m sorry. I’m being, oh hell, never mind.”

“She wants you to come for her, Levent.” Burak put a hand on his arm to stop him from walking away. “Why doesn’t that matter more than what her class-asshole father has to say? And frankly.” He ran a hand down his face. “Frankly, my friend, Lillian is afraid of what she might do tonight with the Marine. She’s been saying self-destructive things all week.”

Levent’s heart stuttered when he let the reality sink in. Vivian. His Vivian was going out on a date with another man. An American military man who had a job in Ankara. Her father had told him flat out that she was going to marry this man and move away. That he should pack up his rug shop and move along, find someone suitable to his station in life because it was not going to be his daughter.

Burak’s grip tightened on his arm. “I don’t know what you did with her, and it’s not my business. But whatever it was…well, Lillian says she will never get over you. Tells me constantly, if you must know, that I have to convince you to come to her. That she’s afraid of what Vivian will do if you don’t.”

“
Amına koduğumun piçi
” In a lightning fast move, Levent had his friend pinned against the wall, arm to his throat. “Stop already, will you? I cannot. I,
bok
.” He let Burak go. The man rubbed his throat and stared at him. “That
sikkafa
of a father has me tied up in knots.” He dropped on the couch.

Burak put a hand on his shoulder. “Let it go. She’s not a teenager. She doesn’t need his permission. But she does need you, my old-fashioned friend. And you do her a disservice by letting the
sikkafa
stand in your way.”

Levent looked into the middle distance. Let memories tumble through him. The girl, her laugh, her strong legs pumping, following him through the streets all those years ago, defending them from dogs, sneaking around, and stealing bread. And the woman, her scent, her smile, her very soul. It was his. He knew it. It was time to claim what was his.

“Let’s go. I’ll wait with you. Then I will take her from that
piç
of a Marine. He will not touch what is mine.”

Burak laughed. “Now that is the Levent I’ve known all these years. Let’s go, my brother. The dance should be starting soon. And I have a connection at the venue. We’re going to have a front row seat, so we can make sure these men don’t do anything with our women that doesn’t meet with our approval. Go change into black trousers and a plain white shirt.”

Chapter Nine

Vivian stared out the window, aware of her date on the other end of the seat, realizing she’d said perhaps three words to him since getting in the car. His eyes had shone as she descended the steps to meet him. And she’d smiled, completely ignored her father, and gripped Ron’s arm.

“Let’s go have some fun, shall we? I hope you have a bottle of something in that car. I need a drink. Ta-ta, father.” She’d waved without looking at him. “I’m going out to get blasted drunk with this handsome man, and maybe I’ll let him go all the way. What say you, Marine?” Ron’s jaw had dropped as he quickly glanced at her father’s face. “Oh don’t worry about him, dear. He’s already sanctioned you, did you know.”

She put a hand right on the man’s crotch. The black wool trousers of his dress uniform were scratchy under her palm, but she felt movement under there. He wasn’t dead. He was a man, and something in her gave warning. Perhaps she shouldn’t act like this. It wasn’t fair to him. But she went on. Her brain was shut down. She was one screaming live nerve, full of anger, hurt and regret. “This.” She gripped his hardening shaft. “Is the chosen one, Ron?” He met her eyes. The bright blue of them sharp, questioning. “He says so.”

She turned and faced her father. His face remained calm, inscrutable. He leaned on the ornate wooden banister, scotch in one hand, as if he weren’t watching his only, nearly grown daughter grope her date right in front of him. She sighed. She’d lost her affect apparently. Or he truly did not care. Merely wanted her gone. That was more likely the case.

“Let’s go.” She yanked open the door herself and stomped down the long flight of steps towards the waiting car.

Her chest ached as she climbed into the back seat. She closed her eyes and leaned against the window, begging Levent to come, to save her from this nightmare. But he wouldn’t. He wanted her father’s approval, which he would never get.

After a severely uncomfortable dinner where Vivian proceeded to drink three gin and tonics and a glass of wine, the well-dressed Marines and the bright flowers of their dates moved into the larger hall. The curtain raised and revealed none other than the Temptations. As the group launched into their signature songs, the room began to move, to dance, laugh, and relax.

“Where’s the bar?” Vivian didn’t even feel drunk.

Ron gripped her elbow. “I think you’ve had enough.” His words were clipped, jaw tight with tension.

She whipped around and glared at him. “Look, if you are gonna be my chosen one, you’d better just get used to this. I’m not going to change to please you.”

He frowned and held her closer, his fingers dug into her side. “I don’t give two shits how you act around me, but you will behave in public, are we clear?”

She scoffed but entertained a slight flutter of fear. Maybe she’d gone too far. But he released her and smiled at a pretty red-headed girl who stopped in front of him. Vivian glanced around, ignoring them, seeking an alcohol source. She motioned for one of the roving waiters to bring his tray closer. He was tall and striking. Their eyes met, and she gasped.
Bloody hell, it was Burak
. He grinned and put a finger to his lips, handing her a glass of champagne. Burak jerked his chin up, and Vivian slowly turned, her face heating up and her skin prickling in anticipation.

Levent stood, dressed like a waiter, tray of drinks in one hand, eyebrows raised at her. Her knees nearly betrayed her, but she rallied, observing the two of them. She never thought she’d see Levent again and had spent the last week creeping into a hole of despair.

Ron’s voice invaded her ear. “What’s wrong?” He looked up, saw the man, and narrowed his eyes. “Did he say something to you?”

“Um, no.” She faced her date. He truly was a handsome man. He’d make someone a fine husband—tall, blond, broad shouldered, his dress uniform fit him beautifully, his wide blue eyes charmed every female in the room but her. He was politically astute, a natural flirt, and he knew all the right people. He’d be Somebody, Someday. Just like her father. She smiled at him, hoping he couldn’t hear the thudding of her heart. “I’m just, you know, a little tipsy.”

She refused to turn back around. Why was he here? What was he thinking? Was he trying to torture himself and her both? Her thighs quivered with memory of his touch. She glanced over her shoulder. His dark stare bored straight into her soul. She put a hand to her mouth and leaned on Ron’s shoulder put her lips to his ear. “Let’s dance.”

He nodded, grabbed her hand, and tugged her onto the dance floor. Vivian threw herself into the crowd. The alcohol she’d consumed made its presence known and the room spun as she laughed, let Ron hold her, even kiss her at one point. In spite of herself she sensed Levent as he moved around the room, observing her. But she determined not to care. To prove to him she’d kept her promise. That she’d cut him out of her life like a cancer. If he wanted to hang around and watch her make out with her handsome Marine date then that was his problem. Ron’s lips were on hers again, as his hand crept up her side, cupped her breast. She shifted so he had better access but her body was in shut down mode. His touch, his kiss, did absolutely nothing for her. But it didn’t matter. Her father had spoken.

She didn’t know how much time had passed. Her face was hot from alcohol, her dress disheveled from Ron’s near constant attentions. “I need another drink,” she mumbled around his lips, hoping to distract him. Lillian grabbed her hand then and pulled her away. Ron scowled but let her go.

“What are you doing?” Anger made her friend’s voice harsh. Vivian tried to focus on her. “Don’t you know he’s here? In the room? Damn it, Viv, you’re being a real slut.”

Vivian yanked her hand out of Lillian’s grasp. “Let go of me. I have to get back. My future husband is over there glaring at me. I have to go do my fucking duty. Being a slut.”

Lillian rolled her eyes. But let her go. Vivian saw her look at Burak who had materialized at her elbow. Vivian blew her friend a kiss.
Lucky them
. She found Ron’s blue eyes laser focused on her. He wore a look she understood. Fine. She’d brought it up. Might as well get it over with. She sashayed over to him, felt Levent’s stare from the side of the room but kept her eyes on Ron’s blue ones. “Where can we go?” Her question was clear.

He took her elbow without speaking and guided her to the back of the room. “I’m going to give you what you want, Vivian.” He pressed against her side. His intent was clear. “But you must know your father has had your bags packed, they’re in the car. We are going to Ankara. Tonight.” She stared at him. Then looked away, so he couldn’t see the tears forming in her eyes. “You obviously need something first. And I’ll oblige you, but if I see you making eyes at that tall Turk with the drinks tray one more time, you will be sorry.” His voice was low, curt. “You had one thing right tonight, my dear.” He smiled at a passing couple while still digging his fingers into her upper arm. “I am chosen for you. What you got wrong is how this going to go down. I won’t be married to a drunken slut pining after a servant boy. I’ll drive him out of your head so hard you won’t know what hit you.”

Fear bloomed in her chest. She watched as he made platitudes and politicked his way through the room while blatantly threatening her under his breath the entire time. They reached the large bank of floor to ceiling windows that opened out onto the massive marble terrace. When he stopped to schmooze his superior officer in the room, she took the opportunity to yank her arm out of his loosening grip. Levent remained within shouting distance. Would he save her? She took a breath. Maybe she should save herself. She sipped a drink and watched Ron. When he turned to her the look in his eyes was one of resignation, not anger.

She had a flash of realization. He didn’t really want this any more than she did. But he followed orders. At that moment, with Ron watching on one side, Levent, a few feet away on the other, she had never felt more miserable. Ron looked up, caught the other man’s eye. He grabbed her hand and pulled her out onto the balcony where he kissed her, hard, demanding, his tongue shoved between her teeth in a way that tried to prove something. She didn’t resist. What was the point? They were both stuck. He walked her backward into a dark corner, gripped her breast in one hand, and pressed her hand to his zipper with the other.

“How do you want it, Ron? Want me to turn around, so you can take me from behind? I don’t care.” He stared at her, gripped her arm so hard she yelped in pain.

“Just shut up would you, Jesus.” He groaned as she ran her hand along the impressive bulge under his zipper. “Yeah, that’s what I want. And I want that boy over there to watch.”

She closed her eyes. If Levent watched, she didn’t want to know it. This was her life, at the hands of this suddenly brutish man. Fine. She would do her duty. He pulled her farther into the dark shadow, jerking her dress up, seeking what was underneath. His rough fingers, probed, ungentle, and demanding. He sucked her tongue into his mouth. When he found her bare mound, he moaned. Vivian sighed. She was bone dry there, surely he knew what that meant.

“Ow,” she mumbled. He stopped and stared at her. Her brain kicked in. What was she doing? The clarity of the moment was one she’d never forget. His cold eyes reflected nothing but unhappiness. He stepped back, taking his fingers from underneath her long skirt, sudden remorse flooding his handsome face as a dark hand emerged and landed on his shoulder. He let himself be pulled back. Squaring his shoulders, he turned to face the taller man behind him. Vivian jumped between them.

“Stop! Now!” She glared at Levent, then at Ron. “I don’t need this. I don’t you need you—” She poked Levent in the chest. “To rescue me. I can take care of myself.” He took a step back. “And I don’t care what my father says, I won’t go anywhere with you.” She stared into Ron’s eyes. Did she see relief there? “I’m going home. All the way home. Screw this damn country.” She stomped away from their little macho tableau. Lillian tried to stop her, but by then, tears had blinded her. She pushed through the crowd. The second in command’s diplomatic daughter date was leaving in tears. The drama quotient of the night had increased exponentially. She didn’t care. She had to get away from this, from that man, from all of it.