Page 5 of At the Sheikh's Command
She stifled a wave of panic. “You mean I have no control over my stay?”
He gave a derisive grunt. “Only you could believe you could force your way into my country after what you did, and carry on as if nothing happened.” He shook his head. “Such arrogance.”
The injustice was too much. “After what I did? All I did was—”
He held up his hand. “Enough, woman! I don’t want to hear your excuses.”
“But I want—”
“I don’tcarewhat you want! This is not going to be about whatyouwant, but whatIwant.” With that, he ascended the steps to the palace once more and opened the door.
“Darrius!”
He halted—half-in, half-out of the shadowy building. Then he sighed and spoke without turning around. “What is it now?”
“I need to know…” She trailed off, suddenly scared, suddenly not wanting to know the answer to the only question in her mind now.
He turned slowly to her, his eyebrow raised in query.
It was even harder to ask the question with those hungry eyes on her. “I need to know… what it is you want.”
The curve of his lips inched slightly higher, but his eyes were still cold. “Want? I’d have thought that was obvious.”
“Not to me!” she blurted out, realizing she shouldn’t be speaking like that to a king. But this man wasn’t only a king to her, he was an ex-lover, a man she needed to get out of her system, a man she thought she’d be able to resist. A man she’d underestimated.
“You’ll find out. You have thirty minutes. Thirty minutes to unpack your bag, refresh, do whatever is necessary, and then you will be escorted to the great hall.”
“There’s a formal reception?”
His eyes were steely. “Of course. You didn’t think your arrival would go unmarked, did you?”
He didn’t wait for her to answer, simply disappeared inside the palace. The sound of the door banging closed behind him echoed around the courtyard like a thunderclap.
“Dr. Cooper?” said a voice politely, and she looked around and saw a Bedouin official with a bowed head. “If you’d come this way, please, I’ll take you to your room.”
It was clear she had no choice. She was stuck behind several sets of locked gates with a man who’d made it clear she was to be entirely at his mercy over the coming days.
She pulled at the scarf, which suddenly felt too tight around her neck, and gulped in a lungful of hot, dusty air. She closed her eyes to contain the sense of panic, and steadied herself against the scorching metal of the car. She did what she usually did when the old fears threatened to take control of her and imagined herself floating on the surface of the sea with open skies above her and the cool ocean supporting her. Slowly, the panic subsided.
“Are you all right, madam?” asked the official, with genuine concern.
She opened her eyes and forced a smile on her face. “Yes, thank you.”
He gestured to a separate entrance, and she nodded and followed him inside the palace, after casting one last glance at the shadowy door through which Darrius had disappeared.
The panic was gone, but in its place was something she was rarely bothered by—confusion. From her sheltered life in England, her plan had seemed straightforward. Enter Sifra, find the diamond and try to arrange a brief meeting with her ex-lover. She’d imagined a civil conversation during which the past could be well and truly buried and she’d be able to move on. But from the moment the border guards had scanned her passport, everything had gone wrong.
She’d fallen into a trap to which only Darrius held the key. She was at his mercy now, and they both knew it.
CHAPTER3
Leonora noticed two things as she entered the room she’d been allocated. One, it wasn’t a standard guest room, it was a sumptuous suite of rooms fit for a queen. Two, it was next to the king’s. She knew this because as Darrius had sneaked her into his room eight years ago, they’d been careful to avoid the rooms in which his parents had slept. But his parents were long gone and, no doubt,henow occupied the king’s rooms. Which meant he wanted her close. Too close for comfort.
She’d never planned on that. She’d planned on seeing him, or maybe even talking with him politely, distantly, and noting the changes in him, and feeling nothing. She’d wanted the ghost made real and then, and only then, would she be rid of his spell. But it hadn’t happened like that. The ghost was up close and personal and the spell hadn’t gone.Yet. But it would. She’d make it leave—one way or another.
A quick shower and change of clothes later, and there was a knock at the door. She checked her reflection in the mirror. She could almost pass for a native-born Sifran with her smoky eye make-up, naturally dark skin thanks to her Italian heritage, and the scarf she wore which hid her bright blonde hair. She felt the familiar stab of regret at the thought. What she wouldn’t have given eight years earlier to have fitted in, to have been a suitable match for Darrius. She glanced up, caught the look of deep sadness in her eyes, and turned away. There was no point in regrets or might-have-beens. There was only the future, and she simply had to get on with it.
But then, as she smoothed the silky lines of her abaya, her mind once more strayed to Darrius, as she wondered if he would remember it. It was one of the most beautiful she’d ever seen—midnight blue and of the finest antique silk. It had belonged to Darrius’s grandmother, with whom she’d developed an instant rapport when Darrius had taken Leonora to meet her. Leonora wondered if Darrius would recognize the abaya, wondered if he’d remember how they’d felt that night and later, after they’d made love in his room, how they’d talked of the future. A future which had quickly turned sour.
