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“Another man?” The thought was like death. “How can you even hope that for me?”
His black eyes looked infinitely deep and sad. “Because I need your happiness more than my own.”
A bodyguard came back and gave him a nod. Sharif turned back to her and said simply, “It is time.”
Gently taking her hand in his own, he pulled her out a side door and into the warm night. She heard the burble of the fountain, the soft cry of night birds. She saw the black outline of palm trees swaying against a violet sky scattered with stars. She loved everything about this country. Somehow, it had become home to her. Every part of it—especially its emir...
Then she saw a limousine waiting to take her to the airport.
“No!” she cried, backing up desperately. She tried to think of an excuse to linger, just ten minutes more. Five. “My clothes—I need to pack my things...”
“It will be arranged. Here is your bag. Your passport.” He snapped his fingers and a bodyguard gave him something. Sharif held out her purse. “My plane is waiting to take you home. Your final paycheck will be transferred to your bank account in Colorado before you land.”
This was really happening. “How can you do this to me?”
“Do it to you?” He took a deep breath. “It’s for you that I’m doing this.”
“At least let me stay the week. I will stay here with you until the bitter end. Even—” she lifted her gaze to his “—after...”
His lips parted with shock. “You mean, even after I am wed, you would—”
Her voice was small. “I won’t leave you. Not even then.”
Sharif stared at her, then shook his head fiercely. “No. Even if you were willing to give up all your dreams, I wouldn’t let you.” Pulling her into his arms, he searched her gaze. “Don’t you understand? I have to believe in something. Something more than just cold duty to my country. And it’s you.”
Her legs were trembling. She clung to his shoulders, barely holding on. She wanted to fall to her knees and wrap her arms around him and beg him not to make her leave, at any cost.
“Don’t marry her. Marrying someone you hate will ruin your life.”
“It is already ruined,” he said softly, looking at her, and suddenly tears were choking her as she read everything in his eyes.
“Sharif—”
“I love you, Irene,” he said. “For the first time in my life, I understand what that means. Because my love for you will last for the rest of my life.” He cupped her cheek. “You were right.”
A sob escaped her. “No—”
“Be happy,” he whispered. He kissed her one last time with all his passion, his lips tender and yearning and full of grief and love. Then he let her go. He held up his hand, and two bodyguards came forward to escort her into the limo.
“Sharif,” she screamed, fighting them. “Sharif!”
But they pushed her into the backseat of the car, and the door was slammed shut behind her. As the limo sped away, Irene looked back with a sob through the rear window. She saw Sharif’s forlorn figure get smaller and smaller in front of the palace, until he disappeared altogether and all she had left of him was that last image of his stricken face, burned forever into her heart.
* * *
Long after the limo had disappeared past the palace gate, Sharif remained immobile, staring at the clouds of dust on the road. He closed his eyes, still seeing Irene’s tear-stained face as it had looked through the rear window. He knew he’d never see her again.
“Your Highness?”
He opened his eyes bleakly to see Hassan standing in the side door of the palace. “I have the head of the top Makhtar PR agency on the phone,” he said. “He’s saying he received an urgent message. I can of course take a message if you—”
“No,” Sharif said, and barely recognized his own voice. Kalila must have called them immediately—but then, she knew all the angles. She’d probably already announced their engagement on her social media accounts, making it all sound romantic, making everyone envious of their great love. “Ask him to come to the palace at once. We’re going to announce our engagement.”
“You and Miss—”
“To Kalila,” he cut him off.
“But—Miss Taylor?”
“I sent her home.”
“But you...I thought...” He hesitated. “When the rumor swept through that you’d rushed to see her in the women’s hammam, the whole staff greatly hoped...”
“Speak to me no more of Miss Taylor,” he said harshly. He turned away. “Let’s get this over with.”
