The Rose & the Dagger (The Wrath and the Dawn #2) - Renee Ahdieh Page 0,48
face brought to mind a hawk in flight. Piercing, yet coolly aloof. As though he could gauge a man at a glance, had he the care to do so. The fine linen of his garments hung across the trim figure of a seasoned warrior.
His eyes gleamed molten gold. And they said all without a word.
Shahrzad drew her sodden waves to one side, splashing water by his feet.
“I’m sorry!” She wrinkled her nose. “That was—”
He pulled her in to his chest, a hand tangling through her hair. The beat of his heart rang loud and true against her cheek. The only measure of time that mattered.
She exhaled fast only to inhale deep. To breathe in his scent. The scent of sandalwood and sunshine. Her fingers moved across his skin, making memories of their own. The hands of a master swordsman. The lips of her greatest love. The heart of a king.
“Khalid.”
Following their embrace, Shahrzad saw Khalid carefully maintain his distance.
Though it frustrated her, she understood why.
It was not to punish her. It was to protect her. She knew him well enough to realize this. And Shahrzad had yet to divulge why she’d returned.
Perhaps talking was of greater importance.
For now.
Khalid listened—the stern set of his eyebrows high in his forehead—as Shahrzad told him about the magic carpet. As she told him about the strange new ability she had yet to fully control. But, save for that initial display of emotion, he offered nothing further on the matter.
Instead, Khalid procured a change of clothes for her and—infuriatingly—turned away while she stripped off her drenched garments.
At that, Shahrzad was forced to swallow a rather cheeky comment.
They were married, after all.
Alas, she understood this behavior as well.
This time he was protecting himself.
So, despite Shahrzad’s desire to challenge Khalid’s resolve with a verbal assault, she chose a less direct approach, opting to wear the loose linen qamis he’d provided for her . . . and nothing else. After all, the sirwal trowsers were much too large. Both garments were cut for a man. The qamis covered more than enough, for its hem fell close to her knees.
More than appropriate.
For now.
Shahrzad found herself smothering a rather inappropriate grin.
When Khalid turned around, his eyebrows shot into his forehead again.
Then he sighed, long and low.
“Is something wrong?” Her voice sounded innocent, though her expression conveyed a sentiment far less so. Shahrzad sat on the edge of his platformed bed, tucking her legs to one side.
“Wrong is not exactly the right word.” His retort was brusque, but there was a note of humor beneath it.
Khalid strode through his poorly lit chamber, his movements fluid, like those of a shadow limned in smoke. Shahrzad followed him with her eyes, aware she likely resembled a predator stalking prey.
He removed a cushioned settee from behind his ebony desk and brought it before the bed. When Khalid sat down, he made a point of the distance between them—
A point Shahrzad was not meant to mistake.
At this, she frowned. “That’s taking matters a bit far, don’t you think?”
“If I intend to think, then no. One could argue it’s not far enough.” Khalid leaned against the settee, his eyes flashing. Focused. Unflinching.
No. Shahrzad was not the predator. Not anymore.
Well, then.
Flustered, she made a motion to stand. “Really, I—”
“Shazi.” Khalid lifted a hand to stop her. “You can’t . . . you . . . you shouldn’t stay.”
She’d never known Khalid to struggle with words before.
“I’m—not staying.”
Khalid sank lower into the ivory silk. Then he nodded.
“But I have every intention of staying—eventually.” Shahrzad raised her chin with an imperious air. “In fact, I intend to do far more than stay. I intend to flourish. Once we break the curse.” She let her statement carry through the vast chamber, defying the very walls to rise up and challenge her.
Even in the weak light from the latticed lamp above, Shahrzad saw Khalid’s face soften. “If I thought there was a way to break this curse—”
“There may be,” she interjected. “But I need you to trust me. And not be angry with me for what I’m about to tell you.”
“I do trust you.”
“But will you be angry?”
He said nothing. His eyes merely constricted at the edges.
Undoubtedly weighing their options. Or forming their strategies.
Some things do not change.
“You must know you have an abominable temper,” Shahrzad said with reproach.
A smile ghosted across his lips. “As do you, my queen.”
“We are not discussing my shortcomings.” She sniffed. “Promise me you won’t lose your temper until I finish talking?”