He was just about calm again when there was a soft knock at the door. Fahim blinked, because most people knew that he was working in the library and didn't care to be disturbed.

  “Come in.”

  To his surprise and pleasure, Rose came in. Far from the pale and worried woman he had seen just a short while ago, she was beaming, her eyes as bright as stars. He rose to pull her into his arms, and as she made a soft sound of happiness, he kissed the top of her head.

  “You're looking better,” he said, and she grinned up at him, her sheer joy taking his breath away.

  “I am. Oh, Fahim, I spoke to my parents.”

  “You did?” he asked, steering her to sit in the chairs by the hearth. “Tell me about it.”

  As Fahim had privately guessed from some of the things she said, Darius had had more to do with the dissolution of Rose's family relations than anything else. He had been the one refusing to pass on messages, filling Rose's head with poison until parental concern and disapproval looked like fury and nearly outright theft.

  He shook his head as Rose finished.

  “I'm so sorry you lost all this time with your parents,” he said. “I'm glad that you are making up for it now.”

  “They're happy to hear from me,” Rose said again, shaking her head. “It feels like, I don't know, like there's been this block of stone that I've been carrying for a decade, and now it's just gone. They love me. They want to see me again.”

  Fahim smiled as he knuckled a stray tear from Rose's eyes.

  “I'm so glad for you,” he said. “If you would allow it, I would love to meet them.”

  “If I would allow it? I'm so happy that they can meet you and everyone else here who I care about. But you were working when I came in, weren't you? I can take off—”

  “No, no, actually, I was just finishing up. As a matter of fact, I should tell you about my recent call.”

  He told her about his call with Bright. He wasn't expecting her to jump for joy, but he was surprised when her smile fell away to be slowly replaced with something that looked like horror. When he was done, Rose stood, her hands fisted by her sides, shaking her head.

  “No. No. I told you, this is exactly what he wants, this is exactly what he's been hoping for…”

  “He's been hoping for a restraining order and the displeasure of an entire country?” Fahim asked. “Rose—”

  He reached for her, but to his hurt, she shrugged him off.

  “Yes. He wants a reaction, attention. He wants material that he can spin into a story. You've given him everything he's been waiting for.”

  Fahim snorted.

  “Only a madman would want the kind of attention I can bring to bear,” he said, but Rose only shook her head again, fear and a near-panic in her eyes.

  “Don't you get it?” she demanded. “He is crazy. He doesn't care about anything except what he wants, and right now he wants—Fahim, why would you do something like this without asking me?”

  Stung, Fahim rose to his feet as well.

  “I'm doing my job as the legal lead for the Khalid family and as someone who cares about you. Doing nothing is no longer an option. Rose, listen. You are underestimating our ability to protect you, my ability to protect you. It'll be fine. Right now, you’re still upset about what happened today, about all the reporters. When you are thinking more clearly—”

  “Don't,” Rose said, her voice loud and clear. “Do not suggest that I'm being a hysterical woman over this. I'm not. I know Darius better than I hope you ever do, and—no. No, I'm not doing this.”

  She spun on her heel and walked out of the library, leaving Fahim to stare after in her baffled anger and worry.

  15

  The problem with having a regular nine-to-five job, Rose thought, was that it just kept going on. You had to show up, do your best, and take care of things even when you felt as if the world was cracking faster and faster all around you.

  When I was touring, I could just zone out on the bus and the plane. But if I were touring, I’d be with Darius right now, and no, this is way, way better.

  Despite her worry, it was easy to focus on Jamila, who was progressing by leaps and bounds on the guitar that she had grown to love. Her small fingers were still not strong enough to hold down the strings the way she wanted to, but she was getting there, and more important than the mistakes she made was the fact that she was going back to correct them over and over again.

  Hasan was already down for a nap with the nanny, so it was just Rose and Jamila in the music room, Rose laying down a simple chord progression on her own guitar and Jamila following along.

  “Much improved,” Rose said as they finished. “You keep that up, and we'll get to the songs you want to play even faster.”

  The door to the music room opened as Jamila put her guitar away, and Laura came in, maneuvering carefully to avoid bumping into the cabinets or the music stands, her hand on her belly.

  “Don't laugh,” she said wryly, “I'm you're future.”

  Rose grinned a little shyly.

  “Wouldn't dream of it,” she said, and she felt for her own belly, showing more now, but nowhere near what it would be when she was closer to term.

  “Mama, Rose says I'm much improved,” Jamila crowed, and Laura bent down to give her a kiss.

  “Very good, my darling. Why don't you run over to the playroom now? I believe there are some snacks waiting for you.”

  Jamila ran off without a second glance, and Laura turned to Rose.

  “I was thinking that we could have a grown-up lunch,” she said, and then at Rose's expression, she laughed. “Don't worry, you're not in trouble, I promise. I just want to have lunch with someone who isn't so eaten up with trade negotiations he called me Minister at breakfast.”

  “Aw, Ziad's still at it?” Rose asked, putting her own guitar aside.

  “He is. Come on, it's so nice out that I was thinking we could eat outside.”

  When she followed Laura out into the garden, however, Rose realized that it was more than just a whim. There was a place set for two in the shade, and the table was laden with cold chicken, an olive dip that was one of Rose's favorite discoveries since coming to Yeni, and plenty of fresh fruit, which she had been craving since her first trimester.

  “This looks fantastic,” she said cautiously, taking a seat, and Laura leaned over to squeeze her hand.

  “Sweetheart, I promise, this isn't a trap. I just thought you could use a little treat. The last few days have been pretty intense, and it's good to take time for ourselves, think about what we're doing. I'm sorry the Darius stuff has come up again. I was really hoping he would just leave you alone.”

  Rose shook her head, toying with a slice of apple.

  “No, that's not what stalkers do,” she said darkly. “I've been reading up on them, and they crave attention. He pushes and pushes until he gets a reaction. I wish Fahim hadn't—”

  She cut herself off because Fahim was Laura's brother-in-law, but Laura only smiled at her encouragingly, spooning a portion of chicken and olive onto her plate.

  “It's all right,” Laura said. “It seems to be a common feature of Khalid men—take action first and think about it later. I always thought that Fahim was free of the urge, but apparently not!”

  Rose laughed, caught by surprise, and she covered her mouth guiltily.

  “It's okay, honey,” Laura said in a voice that probably made her incredibly popular when she was still working with children besides her own. “It really is. You have friends here, and we're not going to bite your head off just because you don't think Fahim necessarily made the right call. It's okay to talk about what's bothering you.”

  Rose took a deep breath. It felt as if she had done nothing but talk for a while, to her parents, to Fahim, to Jamila and Hasan about their music. However, looking into Laura's calm, sweet gaze, she found herself opening her mouth again.

  “I don't know how well things are really going with Fahim,” she said reluctantly. “He's not listening to me about Darius, and all I can think is that he's made this situation worse. I don't blame him. He wants to protect his family. I think he wants to protect me. I'm just afraid of what might happen, and Fahim just doesn't understand. I mean, I just don't want to bring all this drama and strife into your family.”

  To Rose's surprise, Laura laughed, shaking her head.

  “You do know that Ziad and I had something that was maybe two steps up from an arranged marriage, right? And Sarah was still the nanny when she and Imran started seeing each other.”

  Rose blinked.

  “No, I didn't know that,” she said. “They seem really happy now.”

  “They are, and I’m letting you in on a little secret, I think that you and Fahim can be as well. You just have to ride out the storm.”

  “Darius isn't a storm; he's more like a hurricane,” Rose said. “He's destructive, and he'll destroy things in his path without ever noticing they were there at all.”

  “That's life—we all have a whirlwind. When my sister was ill, it felt as if the winds were battering at me and Ziad. We had a lot to learn about how to cope with each other's needs and wants. We had to learn how to accommodate each other and things that we couldn't control. I'm so glad that my sister's all right now, but the strength we built from pulling through that together, it means everything. You and Fahim are very tough, and if you can learn to pull in the right direction, there won't be anything that you can't conquer together.”

  “We're both tough, but I think unfortunately that we're both pretty stubborn as well,” Rose mused. “I don't know if I'm ever going to get him to understand my perspective on things.”

  “Well, you start with talking,” Laura said decisively. “If you can say all of this to me, you can certainly say it to Fahim. He's a good listener. I mean, he's paid to be, given his legal work, but I think that even before that, he was a man who wanted to listen and to understand. I think that if you speak to him, if you give him the chance to prove himself, you might be surprised.”

  “I want to believe in him,” Rose said, almost surprised at herself. “I want to trust him, and I want him to listen to me. I think he will.”

  “Only one way to find out,” Laura said sympathetically, and no matter what she might have feared, Rose knew Laura was right.

  16

  Fahim had never let stress or worry keep him from his work. He knew that it made people whisper that he was cold compared to his brothers, made them think that he didn't care, but the truth was that sometimes he cared so much that he couldn't bear it. Then, the only thing for it was to put his head down and work, blocking out all the rest.

  He had done everything he could about the matter of Darius Bright for the moment, and he knew that doing more would be a kind of overkill that he couldn't afford, that Rose couldn't afford. He knew that after their last disastrous meeting, he had to go speak to her, but he wasn't sure that they were ready for that yet. Right now, if they spoke, there was a chance that they would just end up shouting at each other, and given her condition, given the baby, he wasn't sure it was something he wanted to risk.

  That was why he was buried in the library again, looking over a deposition that he had actually stolen from one of his junior partners. Maybe it was a little embarrassing to be taking work from someone lower down the ladder, but it was all he could think of to do right now, the only thing he could think about to make himself useful.

  Even as he focused on the words of the statement in front of him, Fahim found that he couldn't concentrate. It was ridiculous. It was work that he could do in his sleep, and yet every time he let his attention wander even a little, it went back to Rose.

  Rose needed to be protected. Rose needed to be free. He wanted to give Rose both those things, and he had no idea how to do it beyond what he’d already done. He wanted to go to her immediately, to take her in his arms and explain, but would that do anything to help? Or would it only spur them into another argument?

  He was almost relieved when his phone chimed. Even if it were only Laura again, chiding him and telling him that he needed to be more forthright and more understanding, he would take it at this point. However, he had just gotten the phone into his hand when it chimed again and again and again, a cacophony of noise that told him that something big was happening, something that needed his attention right away.

  The alerts he had placed on Rose's and Darius's names were both going off, and he remembered grimly that tonight was the night of Darius's concert, the last one before he ended his tour prematurely. The alerts were so thick that Fahim couldn't tell what was going on. Finally, Twitter directed him to a recorded stream of what everyone was talking about in such excited tones.

  The video was from Bright's concert, and Fahim scowled to see Rose's ex on stage, bathed in a cool blue light that gave him an almost angelic glow. Fahim had observed enough trials in law school to know a ploy for audience sympathy when he saw one, and his disdain only grew when Bright ended a song, and paused, finding the central camera with uncanny accuracy.

  “Well, that's the end for now, but I find that I'm not done yet.”

  He paused to look down, almost bashful, at the shouts of We love you, Darius! from the crowd, and then he gestured for silence.

  “I can't be done,” he continued earnestly, “because I'm incomplete. When you see me up here, on my own, you all know that you're seeing half a man. Without Rose, I feel like I'm bleeding out every day.”

  Fahim made a face even as the crowd roared, but even though he expected the worst from Darius, he didn't expect what came next.

  “You hear me, Rose?” Darius demanded straight to the camera. “Do you know what you're doing to me? If you wanted me broken, you've got that. If you wanted to suck the life out of me, you've got that too. Nothing's the same without you, not music, not living, nothing at all. I love you. I miss you, and I know you didn't believe me when I told you, but I want us to be a family.”

  Fahim was surprised that the phone didn't crack in his grip. Bright had said nothing of the sort to Rose, but you wouldn't know it from his soulful look now.

  “A family, Rose, something that neither of us had. Look, we've had a tough time, both of us, but that only means we'll know how to protect our own kid. If you don't want to be on the road anymore, we can stop. We can do anything. There's just—”

  Bright took a long breath, as if he were overcome with emotion. Fahim thought there was a real chance he was going to be sick.

  “There's just nothing for me without you, babe,” he said, and as he reached into his pocket, the crowd began to shriek.

  As Fahim watched in disgust, Bright whipped out a black velvet box and presented it to the light, as if he were proposing to the whole damn stadium.

  “Babe, I love you. You're mine, and you always will be. I want you to be my wife, and after that, it's just us, just you and me—”

  Fahim could see that there was a little more, but he cut it off, unable to bear it longer, muttering curses under his breath.

  Then he forced himself to take a deep breath, and he rose from his desk to go looking for Rose. Right now, the only thing that mattered was her, and he wanted to tell her about this before she had to hear it from someone else.

  He had almost managed to clear his thoughts of wanting to beat Darius Bright into a pulp when Ziad found him, his older brother's face a thundercloud. He wouldn't have stopped—Ziad was more than capable of taking care of himself—but there was worry there too, and that made him pause.

  “Before you say anything, I've seen the video,” Fahim said. “It's going to be dealt with.”

  “I hope so,” Ziad said reflexively. “This is ridiculous. This man does not know when to quit, and it is reaching the point where we're going to need to bring in experts to handle the matter.”

  Fahim stiffened at the censorious tone in Ziad's voice.

  “I told you, it's being handled,” he stated stiffly, but his brother didn't look convinced.

  “This feels like the kind of scandal that is only going to get worse the longer it goes on,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I've already heard people talking about it in the halls, and no matter what kind of gossip policy we institute at the palace, that's only natural. It's gossip concerning people they know, and of course they are going to want to speak about it. It's only a matter of time before Jamila hears something.”

  Fahim flinched at that, a pang of guilt striking him hard. He was the one who had decided to bring Rose into their home and into their lives. He was the one who was responsible for Ziad's worry now. No, worse than that, he was the one who was going to be responsible when Jamila got upset about what she had heard about her beloved music teacher.

  “I'll be talking to the legal team to see what our options are,” Fahim began. “At this point, there's no physical threat—”

  “Ha, I almost wish there were. If it were a physical threat, we would know how to handle it,” Ziad said with some wry humor. “I hate to say it, but it seems as if Bright is too smart for that. He knows that the moment he makes a physical threat against Rose or anyone, people will lose all sympathy for him. The problem, of course, is that he won't, and he'll just get to keep playing the sensitive, jilted boyfriend until he grows bored.”

  Ziad shook his head, his gaze turning brooding. He went on.

  “I know it’s something of a cliché to speak about my own daughter's future when she's not even tall enough to go on most roller coasters yet, but I worry. Is this the kind of thing she's going to run in to? Is this the kind of man she's going to have to deal with? How in the world can I expect her to trust and to be open when at the same time I feel I have to send her out armed and with a guard?”

  A call interrupted Ziad before Fahim could think about a response to his brother's woes, but as he hurried on, Ziad's worry stuck with him and stung.