Page 47 of At the Sheikh's Command
She bit her lip and looked away in shame. She remembered her desperate need for comfort, for diversion, for anything which would make her forget everything she’d left behind.
His phone sounded a second time.
“It’s not what you think,” she said.
“It’s exactly what I think,” he replied.
His eyes seemed to bore through her and see her for what she was—a weak and broken woman, could see the men she slept with as she’d tried to forget she had a heart she’d left on a hilltop in Sifra.
“So you walked away.”
His phone went for the third time. He swore. “I have to answer that.”
“Of course.” She knew that a third call meant something important.
She clenched her fists as she watched him pace away from her and talk into the phone. She couldn’t bear that he believed that she’d walked away from her child, and her man without a care, and had launched into a relationship immediately, as if neither he, nor Azra, had meant anything to her.
He finished the call and turned to her.
“I have to go.”
“Darrius! Please, don’t leave it like this. What you saw in Oxford eight years ago, it wasn’t what you think.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore, Nora. What happened, happened.”
“It matters to me! Please, Darrius, hear me out.”
“No. I have to leave.”
“But what about me? What about us?”
“You really think there is an ‘us’? You really believe that?”
She swallowed and nodded. “Yes.”
“Then, come. Now.” He grabbed her hand and together they returned to the palace.
CHAPTER22
Whatever was going on must have been urgent, thought Leonora, because before they’d even set foot back in the palace, the quiet of the early morning was broken by the sound of a helicopter approaching.
There was no time for talk and as soon as they stepped inside the palace, they went in different directions: Darrius to his room and Leonora to hers.
She hurried through her shower while a maid packed her things. She didn’t linger but Darrius was already inside the helicopter, waiting for her. As soon as the bags were stowed and she was strapped in, the helicopter swept up into the bright blue morning sky.
Leonora sat back, stunned by the suddenness of the change. She didn’t know what the emergency was about and had had no opportunity to ask Darrius. Even if he hadn’t been on the phone, the severe look on his face would have put her off. She hadn’t even been able to explain what he’d seen when he’d returned to Oxford. But then, what he’d seen had been correct. She had been kissing someone. Or, more accurately, someone had been kissing her. But she hadn’t resisted, and she knew she’d feel eternally guilty because of that. She knew Darrius wouldn’t see the fact that she’d lost a baby and been rejected by the man she’d loved all in the space of a few weeks was an excuse for her behavior. And she doubted he’d ever understand how the devastation of that double loss had affected her. How she’d become a shell of a person who’d needed to reach out to other people for physical contact to reassure herself that she existed. Darrius was black and white. He’d never understand all the shades of gray of which she was composed, never understand what she’d gone through.
Despite the breathtaking view of the sweep of desert below, there was an eerie silence inside the helicopter. Leonora stared out the window, lost in thought. Darrius was on the phone, his focus entirely on the conversation. Every now and then, she tried to catch his attention, but he was too engrossed in whatever was happening on the other end. Whatever the crisis was about, Darrius was at its center. That much was obvious by his occasional responses.
As they landed on the palace rooftop, Darrius ended his call and handed the phone to one of his assistants. He stepped out of the helicopter, seemingly in a hurry. Leonora followed, but he didn’t acknowledge her as they entered the palace. The tension between them was palpable, and Leonora couldn’t help but feel hurt. After everything they’d shared, he had cut her off completely. It seemed the business of running the country came first. And she could understand it. Just. But it still hurt.
Darrius gave Leonora a curt nod before continuing on to be greeted by his officials. Leonora hesitated as she watched them surround him, their expressions grave, and walk with him along the marble white corridor. She wondered if this would be the last she saw of him. Her image of him blurred as her eyes misted over and they turned a corner and disappeared from sight. She looked away abruptly. It was up to him. There was nothing she could do.
Feeling abandoned and alone, Leonora made her way through the palace corridors, her mind full of questions. Why had Darrius been so distant with her? Was it the memory of how he’d seen her kissing another man in Oxford? Or was it something else entirely? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she needed answers before she left this country and this man who was so dear to her. She couldn’t return to Oxford as she had done eight years earlier—with things left undone.
Darrius was angry with himself.He’d set the ball in motion before he’d left with Leonora, but he hadn’t expected his own brother would be the source of the leak. Now the financial markets had reacted with a volatility not seen in decades, and ambassadors were queuing up to speak with him about the news that he, King Darrius, had plans to abdicate in favor of his younger brother, Sheikh Zaire.
He’d done it to be with the woman he loved. But he was still trying to sort things out with her. It was too soon.
