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Hannah.
Just saying her name made his insides tighten.
And that twinge of tension was enough for him to come to a decision.
This wasn’t going to work with her here. He realized they’d only just arrived, but she had to go. The timing was terrible, but there was too much at risk to allow himself to be mired in indecision.
CHAPTER FIVE
STILL flattened from her call to Hannah, Emmeline showered and wrapped herself in her robe that had been unpacked and hung in the closet next to Hannah’s wardrobe.
Curious, Emmeline sorted through Hannah’s clothes. Hannah’s wardrobe wasn’t exactly dowdy, but it was practical. Hannah dressed conservatively in keeping with her job.
Stretching out on the bed, Emmeline felt a sudden rush of affection for her lookalike, thinking Hannah was the kind of friend you’d want in your corner. And she’d been in Emmeline’s corner, too.
Emmeline didn’t remember drifting off to sleep, but hours later the doorbell woke her.
Sitting up, she saw the sun had shifted across the sky and now sat low, hinting at twilight. Pale violet shadows crept across the bedroom and hovered in corners. She headed for the door. One of the palace’s kitchen staff stood outside with a gleaming silver trolley.
“Good evening, Miss Smith,” the palace staffer greeted her. “His Highness thought you’d want to dine tonight in the privacy of your own room.”
A thoughtful gesture on the sheikh’s part, she thought, opening the door wider. The man pushed the trolley through the living room out onto the flagstone patio. Emmeline watched as he arranged the tables and chairs closer to the pool and covered the small round table with a cloth from the cart, then dishes, silverware, goblets, candles and a low floral arrangement.
Then with a brief respectful nod to Emmeline, he left, taking the now-empty cart with him. Once he was gone, Emmeline stepped out onto the patio. The table had been set for two. Two plates, two sets of silverware, two water and two wine goblets.
She wasn’t dining alone tonight.
And just like that, Emmeline’s sense of well-being fled.
The moment Hannah opened the door that evening, Makin knew he’d made a mistake. He should have called her to his office to tell her he was sending her away, summoning her as one would summon an employee, instead of breaking the news over dinner.
He’d thought that talking in private would lessen the blow. But he was wrong. Wrong to speak to her at dinner, in her room.
Worse, she’d dressed for dinner tonight, and she’d never dressed for dinner before.
Why had she put on a frothy cocktail dress? And why those gold high heels that made her legs look silky smooth and endless?
Makin followed her slowly through her gold living room to the garden knowing he was compounding matters, adding insult to injury by staying. One didn’t give employees bad news like this. He should go and wait until the morning. Go and wait until he felt calmer, more settled.
But he didn’t leave. He couldn’t, not when he felt an irresistible pull to stay. Instead of going, he trailed after her through the large sliding glass doors to the garden where a table had been set for two.
Makin’s gaze rested on the table and his unease grew.
She’d dressed to match the table setting, her orange chiffon gown a darker, more vibrant shade than the table’s rich apricot-and-gold jeweled cloth. Tall tapered candles framed the low floral centerpiece of apricot and cream roses.
Yet another mistake. His chief of staff had misunderstood him.
Makin blamed himself for the confusion. He should have been more clear with his kitchen and waiting staff. He’d requested a quiet meal with Hannah so he could speak frankly with her. He’d asked to have the meal served in her room so he could talk without interruption. It had never crossed his mind that his simple request would get turned into this …
This …
Intimate setting for two.
Makin frowned at the gleaming display of silver, crystal wine goblets and fine bone china.
His frown turned grim as the tall tapered candles flickered and danced, throwing shadows and light across the table, accenting the rich jewel tones of the embroidered cloth. More candles flickered in hammered iron wall sconces. Even the pool and fountain were softly lit as a whisper of a breeze rustled through the tall date palms standing sentry around the perimeter of the garden.
Makin had come to Hannah’s apartment hundreds of times over the years, but they’d never dined here before, not alone, not late at night, and certainly never like this.
When they met for dinner, the tone had always been professional, the focus centered on business. She’d attended numerous banquets with him. Had sat across from him at countless perfunctory meals where she took notes and he rattled off instructions. But it had never been this, never the two of them seated across from each other dining by moonlight and candlelight. The lighting changed everything, as did the soft sheen of the embroidered silk tablecloth. The shimmer of fabric, the glow of light created intimacy … sensuality.
