Page 20 of At the Sheikh's Command
“But if you believed I had good reason, why didn’t you follow me to England? Why didn’t you come to me and ask me why I left?”
A sadness suddenly clouded his eyes. “But I did,habibti, I did.”
Shock robbed her of words, and she stared at him in disbelief. He’d followed her? It was the first she’d heard of it.
“But—”
“There is a formal dinner tonight,” he said, as the car rolled to a halt in front of the rear door to the palace. “I’d like you to attend. My brothers will be there, but we won’t be seated together. Nevertheless, I’d like you there.”
“Right, of course,” she said, forcing herself to focus on the present.
“And then later…” He brought their joined fists to his lips and kissed her hand. “I hope you will come to my room.”
Her stomach flipped with desire at the thought, and the past was completely forgotten. There was only now, and she liked the now, very much. But she couldn’t help teasing him. “And if I don’t?”
He shrugged. “Simple. I will come to you.”
“I may be out,” she said with a smile.
The door opened, but he didn’t move.
“I will come and find you, wherever you are, Nora, and I will put you over my shoulder and carry you somewhere where I can ravish you.”
A shiver of lust ran through her body. “Then I shall definitely be out.”
He gave a confident smile, which declared that he knew she’d be waiting for him, and got out of the car.
He walked away without a backward glance as the car continued on to the private wing, where it stopped for her. It appeared the palace officials weren’t keen on word getting around that the visiting academic had such intimate sleeping arrangements with the king. She bet they weren’t. She remembered the last time she was here. Everyone had been terrified she’d trap their Crown Prince into marriage. She didn’t understand why, when it had never even been a possibility.
He’d never had any intention of marrying her and had been engaged to be married all along. He hadn’t even had the decency to tell her. That had fallen to his parents. And yet he’d followed her back to the UK after he’d discovered she wasn’t in Sifra? It made little sense. Something was wrong, and she couldn’t figure out exactly what. But she would.
As soon as she set foot in the palace gardens, the tensions of the world slid away. The meeting at the museum had been more stressful than she’d imagined and, besides, she’d had little sleep the night before. She smiled to herself and sat on the cushioned gazebo by the fountain. The flow of water stirred the warm and sultry air. She lay back, looking up at the shifting leaves and awning through which sunlight gently filtered, and thought of Darrius and that strange, powerful blend of tenderness and authority which had her totally hooked.
With a happy sigh, she closed her eyes and drifted into a sound and dreamless sleep.
CHAPTER10
An hour closeted in the office with his advisors was more than enough. After Darrius had become king, his staff soon realized that they had to get to the point quickly because he would leave meetings after sixty minutes. Darrius never found making decisions difficult. So long as he had all the facts, he always knew what should be done. Just as he did now. Mistress be damned. He would marry Leonora because he could not live without her, and he wanted no one else. And he had one week in which to convince her. As soon as his office hour was up, he rose and left. He wanted to make a start on that week, because he wasn’t under any illusion that it would be easy.
It was mid-afternoon, and it was a relief to walk through the gardens under their cooling canopy of trees and awnings, which provided shelter from the unrelenting sun. Unlike the public gardens, he’d made sure these private gardens which the royal apartments surrounded were allowed to run a little wild to remind him of the real world he’d once loved to be a part of, which existed outside the confines of the palace.
But as he walked between the reflecting pools towards the royal apartments, he wasn’t noticing the extravagant orchid blooms lifting their faces to the sun, or the lush palm leaves which spread their shifting shade over the reflecting pool. No, his mind was on Leonora. She’d changed. Outwardly she was still the same beautiful, sexy woman that she’d always been, but inwardly? Something had subtly changed. She was tougher, a little more defensive, as if she didn’t trust anybody. Something had happened to make her feel the need to protect herself. Something had hurt her deeply, and he hated he didn’t know what. But he would. He’d make it his business to find out what had happened to her.
He was passing the fountain when a flash of color caught his eye. He paused, and retraced his steps, then gave a soft laugh. She didn’t look so tough and independent now. She was lying fast asleep on the richly colored cushions in the gazebo, her scarf pulled off and her dress hitched slightly where she’d turned on her side. No doubt last night’s nocturnal activities and jet lag had caught up with her.
He walked over to her, assuming she would awaken at the sound of his footsteps. But she didn’t move, and neither did he. He was struck by how relaxed she looked. She was normally so full on that it was the flash of her eyes and the tilt of her chin which struck you first. But now her sensual lips were relaxed and full and lifted slightly at the corners, as if she were enjoying a lovely dream. He wondered what was pleasing her so much. He wanted it to be him. But she seemed more interested in the diamond than him. His sense of pleasure fled at the thought and he began to move away, when her eyelashes flickered and she opened her eyes.
For one brief moment, they looked at each just as they used to. There was nothing between them—no families, no politics, and no complications. It was only themselves—two people in love—and in that moment, he knew he was doing the right thing. And she’d come to see it, too.
And then the moment passed. She blinked, sat up, and frowned.
“I must have fallen asleep,” she said, immediately looking away. “I don’t usually fall asleep easily. Must be something about this place.”
“My grandmother designed the garden.” He sensed she wanted space and so walked across to the central tree and looked up at its canopy of leaves, the green bleached by the harsh sun. “She planted this oak tree as a symbol of her love for her husband, my grandfather.” He smiled and patted its gnarled trunk. “He was a great man. A great sheikh.”
“It was his father, your great grandfather, who wrote about the last of your ancestors to see the diamond.”
His heart sank. He’d hoped they would talk of love, not diamonds. “And his daughter, my grandmother, was the last of my ancestors to talk freely about love. It was certainly not something my parents spoke about.”
