The Shiekh's Virgin Mistress Read online

  Omar finally hung up on Richard, but not before simply stating, “She is mine. You are despicable.”

  Richard stared at the dead receiver and grew even angrier. He stalked out of his office and found Anna weeping near the elevators. He went into a rant and began shouting at her, “You and Khalil? What did you do Anna? Did you mess around with him?! How dare you screw up my life this way, how dare you ruin my business, lose my best client, lose him millions, and fuck around with him!?

  Anna’s tears stopped abruptly as she stared at her dad in shock. He’d never shown her much notice, let alone gone into a rage directed at her. She’d heard him and her mother fight, so she knew he could rage, but all that venom had never been turned on her exclusively. She was wordless and her eyes grew ever rounder as her dad worked himself into a literal lather.

  Her phone began chiming, but she ignored it. She couldn’t move. She was petrified as her dad continued to rail at her. “I forbid you to ever see that sand flea again, ever! Do you hear me? God help me, but I will disown you if I even so much as get wind that you’ve seen him. If I find out you fucked him, I might disown you right now.” The elevator dinged and someone walked past them. Her dad clamped his mouth shut, but it wouldn’t have surprised her if steam had risen from his ears. Anna found her legs and stood, her dad narrowed his eyes at her, “You can’t leave now, we have an investment fiasco to clean up and you’re doing all the grunt work. All of it, you stupid bitch!”

  Anna said nothing as she slipped into the elevator and pushed the lobby button. Her dad looked at her in surprise, as if she were not allowed to defy him, but she did just that and as the doors slid closed, he continued yelling obscenities at her. She could hear him for more than three floors as the elevator lowered.

  Once in the lobby, she again went to the bathroom and hid. The thought of going outside and being burned by the sun made her feel sick again. Her phone again chimed. It was Omar.

  Without preamble, he said, “It wasn’t your fault my precious. I realize I distracted you.”

  Anna sniffed and her voice cracked, “I am so sorry. You have no idea Omar, so very sorry. How can I make it up to you? Is there anything I can do?”

  “It is merely money, and if I’d been offered your love, I would have paid any sum asked.” Anna began crying again, and was unable to form words. She mumbled and sniffed and the tears rushed down her cheeks. “You will come to me now my precious. Spend the remainder of the week in my care.”

  “I—I shouldn’t. I mean, my dad is furious. I think I need to go home.”

  Omar was again quiet for a long time as he thought. “Very well my goddess. When the time is right, we shall be together.. Never forget you are mine.” He clicked the phone off and the line went quiet.

  Anna’s sobs started anew. She felt as if she’d just lost her entire world and been dropped from a precipice, never to find solid ground or regain her feet. As soon as her legs would work, she made her way to her dad’s loft and gathered her clothes and fled back to Boston.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  I stayed with my mom, in the room I grew up in and I spent a solid month crying and depressed. My mom seemed to understand, without me having to verbalize too much of what happened. I supposed she’d talked to dad, but I wasn’t sure. He and I had not said a word to each other since that day.

  I didn’t eat much, but my mom made me drink water. We sat in silence and watched movies together and somehow, being at home, helped. Thankfully, my mom didn’t push, only offered me her continued silent presence.

  My body healed and stopped aching and I had a period, so I knew I wasn’t pregnant. Part of me was almost sad at the potential loss. Theoretically I knew it was an impossibility for me to have a child right now, but emotionally it was almost something I wanted. I guess it was my estrogen kicking in and telling me that I wanted to birth a son to the man I loved.

  I did not hear from that man. Not a word, not a peep. He’d disappeared and I began to wonder if I’d imagined the whole thing. Ten days after we parted, all of the bruises were gone from my body and I no longer felt him when I moved or sat or rolled over in the middle of the night. I missed him. I cried a lot. I looked horrible and stopped making eye contact with the sallow cheeked, gaunt girl I saw in the mirror.

  It was a month after I’d returned to the sanctuary of my mother that she said, “I can get you a doctor’s appointment honey, for some anti-depressants.” I’d jerked my head in her direction and she’d reached across the table and laid her hand over mine, “I understand. I really do. I’ve taken prescribed medication for years.”

  My voice cracked from disuse, “I’ll be fine mom. I don’t want to get on stuff.”

  “School starts in three weeks, do you think you can manage it?”

  “I have too. It’s all I have.” I replied and realized how true that statement really was.

  She shrugged, “Okay, but if you need help, it’s available. I’m here if you want to talk about it too, no pressure though.”

  I started crying, and then suddenly I blurted, “I think I love him. He’s gone. I’m all alone.”

  She left her chair and knelt next to me at our kitchen table, and she hugged me from the side. I put my head on her shoulder and I cried like I was small child. “I’m so sorry darling. Do you want to talk about it? I think that might help.” I shook my head and continued to sniff and sob. She looked at me, and I saw her eyes fill with unshed tears. “Come sit with me in the living room, I have a story to tell you.”

  I shuffled after her and we plopped down on the couch. She took two tissues and blew her nose and swiped at her eyes and then she threw the box to me. I stared at my feet and slumped down. I continued to sniff and a few tears fell as I listened without looking at her.

  “When I was twenty one, and still a virgin, I went on vacation with two girlfriends. We took a cruise to Belize, and we stayed on the island for over a week, and then cruised home. When we were on our way, I’d noticed an exotic man that continued to stare at me. I later learned he was a powerful, wealthy philanthropist from Argentina. He was staying in one of the huge penthouses up where us normal folk couldn’t go.

  I watched him and everything he did, and often I found his eyes on me. I was so young though, and so immature I didn’t know what it meant. But I really was drawn to him in an unexplainable way. He often had girls with him, never the same one though, and they were all beautiful and obviously of his class. You do realize that before your father made his millions, both he and I were from small town, working class families?”

  I’d grown extremely interested in my mom’s story and I nodded eagerly. Even though I’d not know my grandparents on either side because they’d all died when I was quite young, I knew enough to know we’d not been wealthy and affluent all of my life. I remembered some from my childhood and the small homes we’d originally lived in before moving into the huge brownstone in this Boston suburb.

  Mom gave me a half smile and continued. “We docked at the tropical island and I quickly became distracted with my friends and the parties and activities. At night I was exhausted from the snorkeling and hiking and everything we’d done during the days. It was on the fourth day, and I’d opted to just lie on the beach and relax. I was enjoying the sun and I think I’d fallen asleep, when someone stood between me and the sun, shadowing me. When I opened my eyes, it was him.”

  I’d stopped crying at this point and had turned with a bended knee towards my mom. I nodded and made a motion with my hand for her to continue.

  “He had a chair and a towel and was in just his swim trunks. Anna, he was beautiful. Like a god or something. He was a golden color and was the fittest man I’d ever seen. His heritage was a mix of German and Argentinian, and he was magnificent. He asked me in lightly accented, perfect English if he could sit by me. I of course agreed. He was easy to talk too, once I got past my nerves, we fell into an easy conversation. We clicked like I’ve never done with another. Ever!

  I remember
how my mouth went dry from anxiety, and how his skin felt when I took the water he offered and our hands touched. I don’t know how he did it, but somehow he eased all of my tension. Just being near him made me feel safe and protected and immensely cared about.” I nodded, knowing exactly what my mom had felt. She lowered her eyes and her cheeks tinted. “His name was Miguel.” I saw her eyes again fill with unshed tears and she picked up one of her tissues and dabbed at them. “He asked me out that night, and then the next and by the end of the week, we were inseparable. He told me he loved me, and I said the same. I gave him my virginity and I would have given him my entire life. I was more than willing to forgo my education and run off with him.

  By the time the ship reached port, and we had to go our separate ways, I was willing to devote my entire life to him. To bear his children, serve him, take care of him. I really and truly loved him.”

  My mom started crying then, real tears that left pale streaks down her cheeks. Her chin quivered and her breaths hitched. I slid closer to her and cuddled into her chest. She wrapped her arms around me and we held each other. When she could talk again, she said, “I haven’t thought of him in years. I can’t allow myself those memories. I’ll be as bad off as you are now for weeks to come.”

  “What happened? Why aren’t you with him?” I asked.

  “His family had other plans for him. Arranged a marriage to a daughter of a powerful alliance and he was unable, or unwilling, I still don’t know—he chose her and those plans. I was the wrong class, and well, just wrong for him.”

  “Did he think so?”

  She patted my shoulder, “He always told me I was his great love and he would ache for me till he died.” She began crying again and I burrowed in tighter and I let my own tears fall anew.

  Later, when we were making dinner I asked, “Did you ever love dad?”

  She thought about her answer and I patiently waited, “Honestly darling, no. But we had you... and I made it work.” It was a simple and truthful answer and I wondered at how she’d endured all these years without the passion and the love she’d felt so briefly. I was deep in thought when she said, “Anna, I adore you. You have made my life complete and I wouldn’t have traded any of it, if it had meant not having you.”

  I knew she was telling me a half truth. If Miguel had chosen her and they’d built a life and had children, she would have loved those kids just as much if not more because they’d been his. I already knew I felt that way about Omar and our potential offspring; but I knew her intent was to ease my feelings, so I nodded and smiled and told her how much I loved her, and I thanked her for telling me her secret.

  After dinner, we were sitting in silence and I finally opened up, and told her about Omar and how I’d lost my virginity, my job, my dad, and Omar all within forty eight hours. I didn’t go into details about how much dad had hurt me with his shameful words or how wounded I was that Omar had simply disappeared without a word. I also didn’t go into details about our wild, abandoned sex. I simply told her I felt as if my heart were broken and I had no reference in my history to draw from. No experience that I could use to help myself feel better and know I would someday be okay again.

  “I sensed that was what had happened. That’s why I told you about Miguel and me.”

  “But mom, your heart is still broken.”

  She blinked at me, and a series of emotions washed over her face. She finally nodded. “I suppose that’s right baby girl. I’m sorry; maybe I made it all worse.” She scowled at her lap for a long time and then her eyes lifted and they were filled with hope. “Maybe you can use me as a cautionary tale? Maybe Omar will come for you. If he does, if you have the chance again, you take it, you run with him, you take his hand and you don’t look back. Okay?”

  I bumped up my chest in amusement, “Yeah right, as if mom. As fucking if!”

  “Well, you never know.. Times have changed. You never fucking know!”

  We both giggled and laughed and our mutual tension eased. Mom never swore, so when she did, I knew I was seeing her younger, wilder, full of hope self, and that gave me hope for my future. Maybe I could learn from this and it wouldn’t ruin the rest of my life like it felt like in this moment.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  I returned to school and Julie was delighted to have me back. She’d stayed during break because she worked in town. She wasn’t supported by her family financially and was on a full scholarship.She was one of the most brilliant women I knew, but also full of life and fun, and she made it her mission to distract me with activities and outings on a regular basis.

  Her plan worked, and I was soon back to my studious self, with the small addition of the new adventurous Anna peeking her head out once in a while. I thought of my lost Shiekh daily, and continued to tell myself that he was the best man ever to take me at that moment in my life. My heart broke, but it also broke open and I was no longer the lackluster, one dimensional law student I’d once been.

  “We’re going to this conference at the end of the month.” Julie announced at breakfast.

  “You’re telling me?” I muttered into my coffee cup.

  “Yup, you have no choice. It’s all the way out in Southern Cali, we need some sun and surf and maybe a nice tanned boy body to play with.”

  “What’s so important about this conference?” I still wasn’t fully awake and the thought of playing with any other man, other than Omar, seemed wrong to me. I figured I might eventually meet someone else, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to go out and troll for one.

  Julie’s eyebrows waggled and she giggled, “You need to get back on the horse sweet pea.”

  I grunted and rolled my eyes and then affected a lazy, bored expression. “Not gonna happen. I am back to chaste and virginal for the foreseeable future.”

  She pouted. I snorted on the inhale and went back to looking at the brochure. “Okay fine, no boys, no flirting, that aside, this is where some of the top businesses in the country recruit. And since you and I are almost finished, fingers crossed we pass the BAR with no problems, not that I think either of us will have any problems, we are after all the two smartest girls in the entire fucking school.” She sipped her coffee and continued, “So, I booked us a room at the Hilton, you need to give me a grand to cover the week and for your half of the plane ticket, and you’ll need some for eating, but we can eat cheap, or…”

  “Or what?”

  “Wellllll,” She always stretched out her words when she was plotting something in her head, “Well, you bring enough for your meals, I will probably flirt my way to a few free ones.”

  I sarcastically mocked her, “You’re such a whore!”

  She wiggled in her chair, “In all the best ways!”

  I did love her shame-free attitude and I shrugged and nodded in agreement. “Okay, I’ll get you the money by tomorrow. I need to hit up mom for it. Dad still isn’t talking to me.”

  I did like the idea of being recruited so I wouldn’t need to canvas for a job. I only had the remainder of this last semester too, and then I was free to do as I pleased and would no longer be under the rule of my parents. I would be making my own way, making my own mistakes and finally be responsible for myself.

  The month sped by, and both my day and night dreams were still consistently cluttered with visuals of Omar. Whenever I thought of him, my body would wake up as if someone flipped a light switch. The rest of the time, I was as cold and numb as I’d ever been. I missed him in an intangible, hard to describe way, but at this point, with no communication whatsoever over the past four months, I was beginning to believe he had been a onetime thing, a great experience that wrecked me, but also resurrected me.

  He’d said that was how he felt too, maybe that was all it was, just a way to wake us both up so we could move on in life and know that intense passion was indeed a real thing, and not to settle for anything less in our future relationships. I thought of my mom, and how she’d cocooned herself, dwelling in a past that never manifested, and
living with those memories as her only solace. I felt for her and I decided she was a cautionary tale. I would not settle. I would wait and maybe someday. Someday.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO-EPILOGUE

  Julie and I arrived in San Diego and it was warm and sunny and as close to paradise as I could imagine. It was early spring, and back home had still been covered in a thick layer of snow and ice. California though was heavenly and the daily temps hovered right around seventy. We immediately went to the beach and laidin the warm sand and my skin soaked in the vitamin D. I felt good, and happy, and for the first time in five long months, I didn’t feel as if I might crumple into tears at the drop of a pin.

  The first couple of days of the conference were mostly lectures on the current economic climate of our country and how we as new attorneys could both work within and then stretch those boundaries. It was interesting to hear how each new generation of attorneys changed both the political and economic system in our country. I hadn’t realized we were considered so influential because of our youth and fresh new insights.

  The third day I’d signed up for a discussion on international law. There were three Americans on the panel and six advisors from other countries. When I took my seat, I noticed that two of the men were Arabs, and my breath caught. Neither were nearly as handsome as Omar, but still my heart stuttered at seeing their chocolate skin and black wavy hair.

  I settled in and got out my pad to take notes. My heart continued to beat erratically and I took long, yoga breaths through my nose. My insides began humming too, that invisible harp chord vibrating deep inside my belly. I found that odd; I’d not felt anything close to that feeling since Omar had plucked that particular string months prior, and not all since.

  I shifted in my chair and readjusted my jeans so that the seam wasn’t pushing up into me. I tried to focus on what the lead speaker was saying, but I could hardly hear him. I readjusted my position in the chair yet again, and nothing was helping. Maybe I was getting sick?