Except for me. Yeah, even hundreds of years ago, I had game.
I spoke in another language back then—where was I? My mind wouldn't focus. Too lost in the memory. It felt like the present. As if I were experiencing it for the first time. And at this present time, I was mad. Because I knew that thisman, this beautiful, determined man, was going to fuck up my relationship with the Pasha.
Pasha! That's a clue! But it slipped away when Ace touched me.
“I can give you more than jewels,” Ace whispered in my ear as he pulled me backward against his chest.
I jerked away from him. “Enough! I'm not fooled by your pretty face. Go away!” I tried to leave, but he made a sound of such sadness that I paused and looked back.
His stunning face—more beautiful than any face I'd ever seen—was crumpled into lines of woe. “I can't sleep. Please.” He held out his hand. “I'll give you anything you want. Just give me a chance.”
“No. Leave me alone.”
He chuckled, but it was self-directed. “So many women have begged to be with me, even if only for a night. And you reject me over and over.”
“That's the only reason you're interested. Now—”
“If you think I'm that superficial, you don't know me, Saliha.”
Saliha. The name rippled through me. But it had no effect on the dream.
“Then tell me why you can't sleep. Go on.” I crossed my arms, the long, silk sleeves of my kaftan bunching over the long strings of pearls and amber I wore.
At my throat was a diamond the size of a magpie's egg—a gift from Melek Ahmed, my lover, the aforementionedpasha. I could have had the Sultan, but that would have meant giving up my freedom to become a part of his harem. A good life indeed, but not the life I wanted. Pashas kept harems too, but there were all sorts of pashas and all sorts of men. Melek was a military pasha—a man of tactics and violence who craved love and tenderness when he was in private. I gave him what he needed, and he gave me what I demanded—freedom and loyalty. It was virtually unheard of—a pasha without a harem. I knew it wouldn't last, but while it did, I was going to accumulate all the wealth I could. When Melek grew bored with me, I'd be free to leave as a wealthy woman. No man would ever rule me—something else unheard of in the Ottoman Empire. But unlike a wife in a harem or even a concubine, I owned everything Melek gave me. Still, when I left, I'd do it under cover of night. Just to be safe. Because men were traitorous bastards. Especially possessive men like Melek.
“Saliha, you and I are a lot alike,” Ace said. “We both want our freedom. I know you want to explore the world. I can help you. I can take you places you've only dreamed of seeing. There are countries where women are not covered and kept. They walk freely down the streets without a veil.”
My hand trailed up to the silk veil that covered most of my face. It was another gift of Melek's. Traditional enough for me to be honorable, but sheer enough so that other men could see a hint of my beauty and envy him. Oh, yes, I knew that even this freedom was about Melek. Men ruled the world. This man was no different. He'd get me away from my Pasha's palace and turn me into a slave.
“I don't believe you,” I said. “And it doesn't matter. I have a plan. I'm going to be completely free one day. I'll travel the world on my own. I don't need you to show me anything.”
“You know that wouldn't be safe. Please, leave with me. I won't ask anything of you. I'll be your companion and protector. That is all.”
“And eventually my lover?” I lifted a brow. “You wouldn't take me around the world for friendship. You don't know me well enough to be my friend.”
“I admit I want you as my lover, but I also know you, Saliha. I've seen your fortitude, witnessed your sharp wit wound others, and laughed at your jests. You are my match. I'll do anything for you.”
“Oh?” I unwound my arms. “Then go away.” As I turned away from Ace, I came out of the dream.
Gasping, I sat up, my gaze going to the balcony doors where sunlight streamed in. The light had crept over my bed and lay across my hand as if holding it. I stared at that light, something shivering inside me. Then I turned my palm over, and I could have sworn that the light wove its fingers with mine.
I jerked my hand back. “Dear Gods! Am I losing my mind? Is Cyrus right? Maybe all those lives are too much for my brain to deal with.” I rubbed at my temples. But then I dropped my hands, my dream returning to me. “Holy shit. Was that really Ace? Maybe my mind just put Ace's face on someone . . .” I trailed off as the full memory came to me, along with many more.
It was Ace. I hadn't replaced another man's face with his. It was him. But here's the thing—I've been reincarnated many times and not once have I ever come back in the same body, much less the same face. Ace couldn't have been the man I met all those centuries ago in Algiers.
“But what if my mind had replaced the image of another man with Ace?” I scowled at the bright day blooming outside. “Just as it turned Turkish into English. It did it because it knew that Ace was that other man. Can souls recognize other souls they've met in past lives?”
Then I remembered Mr. Average. He had felt familiar too. I hadn't doubted that I'd known him in a past life. And yet, there I was, doubting Ace when I had felt the same things with Ace all along. Why doubt Ace and not Mr. Average? Because I had loved Ace. Or at least, the man he'd been in a past life.
Yup. I was wrong. It happens. Turns out, my soul had hidden memories. I don't know why I'd hide those memories from myself. They were good ones. Maybe that's why. Maybe I knew those memories would weaken me. So, I told myself a story about never being loved. I fostered disdain for men to keep myself safe. Or maybe I had simply forgotten them because they were my oldest memories. Who knows? It didn't matter. All that mattered was that I remembered them now.
And what did I remember? A lot. The quick version is—Melek got bored sooner than I expected, and I had to make my escape unprepared. I almost didn’t make it because I had been greedy and was carting several bags of clothes and jewelry with me. With me looking so suspicious, the guards stopped me, but Ace—nope, still couldn't remember his name—knocked out the guards and helped me carry my treasure out of the palace. He even got us passage on a ship. We sailed to Rome that very night.
And Ace became my closest friend. He did exactly as he promised, becoming my guardian while expecting nothing in return. Of course, he hoped for more, but he never pressured me. He waited. He hoped. And he won, in the end. Because whocould resist a man like that? We were happy together. So very happy.
“For a while,” I whispered.
Ace and I traveled the world for a few years. I knew freedom as I'd never known before. I saw things that opened my mind. Things that amazed me and things that made me believe in God. Then I was murdered. I don't know who killed me. They broke into our home when Ace was away and did the deed. Done. I spiraled back to the Asphodel Fields to await another run at life. And I forgot all about Ace.
