Page 25 of At the Sheikh's Command
“Oh, and where exactly is her heart? With you, no doubt, by the moon-eyed way you’re looking at her.”
Darrius shook his head. Brothers could be very annoying. Part of him would be glad when they returned to their respective lives—Zaire to London, and Amare to Paris, where they both used their own particular skills on behalf of their country. But he also knew he’d miss the ability to talk uncensored to them, knowing they wouldn’t tolerate any arrogance, only plain speaking with them. It made it restful, on balance.
“She wants to find it to solve a mystery. That’s all. As I said, her research is on religious symbolism in the Middle East. Solving this will be beneficial to her career.”
“And that’s all she’s doing here? Nothing personal?”
“She is my woman,” Darrius said simply.
This time, Zaire didn’t laugh. He knew Darrius was serious. “Does she know that?”
“Not yet. But she will. What I want from you is all the information you have on the diamond. She believes it to be at the Qasr Jabal. But she’s wrong. It’s not there. That, at least, is something we know.”
“And you won’t tell her you know it’s not there?”
“No. I have other reasons to go there with her.”
Zaire laughed. “You’re really serious about her, aren’t you?”
“Oh, yes.”
“And you think information about the diamond will help you?”
“Let’s just say that finding it should make things easier for me to secure what I want.”
“Her?”
“Her,” he confirmed.
CHAPTER12
Leonora tried hard to concentrate on what one of the museum curators was telling her, which wasn’t anything she didn’t know already. The diamond had last been seen over two hundred years ago before disappearing, seemingly off the face of this earth. It could be anywhere. But she was sure it wasn’t. She felt sure it was close. There was something deep inside of her which sensed the treasure was tantalizingly within reach. All the clues pointed it to remaining nearby and yet she couldn’t solve the puzzle. And it was driving her crazy.
She looked up to find Darrius’ gaze fixed on her from across the room. It had been the same all night. She didn’t know why he’d bothered to have her seated across the room from him when it was clear to anyone with eyes that there was something between them. And that something was the other thing that was that was driving her crazy. Had she lost her mind? Last night was something straight out of one of her fantasies. Not real life.
She tore her gaze away and tried to focus on what her neighbor was talking about. Pottery shards found on a remote desert site had never held less interest. Suddenly, she was aware of a hush around her. She looked up to find one of Darrius’s attendants bowing beside her.
“Dr. Cooper, His Royal Highness would like you to join him.”
She looked over at Darrius, who was talking to the two men who she recognized from social media as being Darrius’s younger brothers. She didn’t remember them from her previous visit—she’d only had eyes for Darrius. They looked different to him somehow. They both had a worldly air, no doubt gained from living mostly in Europe. Darrius was the strong silent type whereas Crown Prince Zaire entertained the small group seated around them with apparently effortless conversation. The youngest brother, Amare, looked silently on, one arm languidly hooked behind the chair. He could have been a model for Italian Vogue. No wonder he appeared in so many social media feeds, either alone, or with one glamorous woman or another. Rarely the same. She might not have remembered seeing them eight years earlier, but she knew all about them now.
“Certainly,” she said, biting back her first response, which would have been the opposite. There was no way she wanted everyone’s eyes trained on her while she walked across the crowded room to Darrius’s table. There was no way she could do that without giving herself away with a blush or an expression on what Darrius called her open face, which meant her name would feature in the gossip columns the next day. She’d bet on it.
She rose, aware that the figure-hugging sheath of a dress with the plunging neckline could hardly fail to attract attention as the crystal beads sparkled under the bright lights of the chandeliers. And it did. She tried to ignore the hush which descended as she walked across the crowded room, past diners who looked up at her with open curiosity before turning to their neighbor to talk—about what, she hated to think.
She tried to imagine she was about to give a lecture to hundreds of students, something she did regularly. She always had complete authority in her classes, never suffered from nerves or shyness. She knew her stuff and never doubted herself. But now? It didn’t work. And she knew why. She was out of her depth. She knew nothing about relationships. She’d only had two. The first had been Darrius who’d entered her life like an explosion—an explosion which she’d willingly have walked in to, to be devoured by its force, if there’d been a hope of any kind of future with him. But he’d been destined to marry another, and she’d walked away. Ran, more like.
And then there was Steven, her ex, who wanted to become her non-ex. Whatever the opposite was to an explosion was a good description of her relationship with Steven. It had been like walking into a warm sea on a warm day—no racing heart, no drama, just comfortable. Surely comfortable was preferable to an explosion? She was here to find out.
Darrius rose and greeted her, and introduce her to his two brothers, who looked at her with intense interest and big smiles. She felt even more uncomfortable. They both rose, and Zaire took her hand and kissed it with a flourish.
“What a pleasure to meet you,” Zaire said.
She raised an eyebrow, not responding to his flirtation as, no doubt, other women did. “A pleasure? Are you interested in the Bah Al Noor diamond? ”
Zaire laughed. “Who isn’t? But when it comes to pleasure, meeting a special ‘friend’”—he shot Darrius an amused look—“of my big brother’s beats my interest in the diamond by a long shot.”
“And this is Amare,” said Darrius.
