Turkish Delights Series by Liz Crowe Page B

father.
    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