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In fact, Azrael was just about perfect in the husband stakes, Molly acknowledged helplessly. They had discovered that they both liked to keep fit and Azrael had a workout room on the ground floor where they exercised together early in the morning. Their values were also similar. On a spicier note, she was married to an urgent and exciting lover, who made her feel like the sexiest woman alive. He regularly gave her little unexpected gifts that ranged from perfume to jewellery to lingerie. Even the fact that he was quite embarrassed giving her the fancy lingerie that he loved to see her wear had made her love him still more.
Azrael, she was learning by degrees, was not that much more sophisticated than she was, because his life had not accorded him much opportunity for self-indulgence. The depth of his concern for his people, the endless hours he worked striving to get everything right, hugely impressed her. She didn’t only love him, she also admired and respected him and she was incredibly happy being married to him.
But there were still little moments that could cruelly burst her cocoon of contentment. A couple of weeks after that first day of intimacy when Azrael had not used contraception with her, her period had arrived as usual. In truth she had been a tiny bit disappointed that she had not conceived and had scolded herself for that disappointment for it seemed wrong to want a child in a relationship that most probably would not last. There was also the sobering fact that Azrael had to think the same because he had been scrupulously careful to ensure that they did not run that risk again.
‘At least you won’t have that worry, then,’ Azrael had commented, which had convinced her that he was thankful that she had not conceived.
What he had left unsaid in that nebulous remark had haunted Molly for weeks afterwards, reminding her, as evidently she had reminded him, that their marriage was temporary and at that some yet unnamed time in the future they would part and go for a divorce. And the prospect of losing Azrael choked Molly as much as a gradually tightening noose round her throat because she couldn’t bear to contemplate the concept of suffering such a loss. In such a short space of time he had come to mean so much to her.
It had often seemed to Molly that throughout her life she had been unlucky and pretty much unloved. Only her grandfather had cared for her but, as her only refuge, what choice had he had? She had had nowhere else to go. Her father had let her leave without even asking her to visit because his wife’s feelings had been more important to him than his daughter’s. When she was younger she had often imagined confronting her dad about his lack of love and interest but had lost her nerve, knowing that being told her father couldn’t care less about her would only hurt her more. And that was why she didn’t have the courage to challenge Azrael and demand to know where their marriage was going, because she was afraid to force the issue. That pressure could easily push Azrael into bringing their relationship to a premature end, she thought fearfully.
Azrael’s cell phone jangled and he dug it out. Within seconds she knew he was receiving word of some crisis because his whole demeanour changed. He vaulted upright, dark eyes flaring gold as expressions of alarm, concern and annoyance flashed across his darkly handsome features in rapid succession. He shot staccato questions, clenched his fingers into fists and strode about the room like a tiger confined in a too-small cage, coming up against walls and redirecting his steps with ferocious tension and impatience.
‘I must leave,’ he told her tightly when he had finished the call.
‘What’s happened?’ she asked anxiously.
‘You don’t want to know.’ Azrael muttered that dark assurance while his phone began to ring again.
‘Of course I want to know,’ she protested very quietly, reluctant to press harder when he was visibly under stress.
It was clear that the second call was of a different nature. Azrael closed his eyes and gritted his teeth and spoke in short, studied sentences in a much quieter tone to the second caller. Molly frowned, convinced she had heard Tahir’s name, and she wondered how he was involved in whatever disaster had occurred. When Azrael had completed that call, he grimaced and by then Butrus was already knocking on the door, all flushed and troubled as if he had run up the stairs in a panic.
‘It’s a...er...diplomatic incident... I have to deal with this personally,’ Azrael told Molly urgently and he strode off, talking in a low voice to Butrus.
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ Molly opined to the empty room in her frustration, wondering why Azrael had turned all secretive when it was more normal for him to be frank with her.
At Molly’s request, Zahra joined her for lunch. It occurred to her that her companion was unusually constrained and she asked her why she was so quiet.
‘I’m aware that you’re dealing with a trying situation today,’ the other woman remarked with an apologetic look on her pretty face.
Molly tensed. ‘Situation?’ she repeated.
‘With Prince Tahir’s arrival. I am sure the King does not wish to be dealing with such a problem either. On the one hand the Prince is his little brother seeking his support and on the other he is his wife’s kidnapper, who frightened her a great deal,’ Zahra extended uncomfortably. ‘But it is a fact of life that a spoiled teenager who has been...er...disciplined and denied his usual freedoms will overreact—’
‘I wasn’t aware that you knew about the kidnapping,’ Molly confided, wondering why Tahir had arrived in Djalia seeking his older brother’s support.
‘What the Prince did made such a big stink... I can call it that?’ Zahra queried uncertainly as Molly nodded. ‘Few with diplomatic connections remain ignorant of the true passage of events. Much has been learned from the exaggerated deference Prince Tahir received at the London Embassy in the King’s name. Such a crime should not have been possible. Those who should have known better did not interfere to stop the Prince out of fear of causing offence and a bigger scandal. And I can never apologise sufficiently for being the woman who recommended that you teach the Prince.’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, that’s not your fault!’ Molly exclaimed. ‘Tahir’s sins are his own. I can understand that people were afraid to blow the whistle on him lest it rebound on them. But please tell me what Tahir has done now—’
‘I will take care of that,’ Azrael informed her drily from the doorway and Zahra shot upright and bowed very low, muttering apologies in her own language.
‘Well, I shouldn’t have had to ask Zahra,’ Molly proclaimed defensively in receipt of a censorious appraisal from her husband. ‘Why should I be the only person in the building who doesn’t know what’s going on?’
‘Because I didn’t want to upset you,’ Azrael advanced bluntly as soon as they were alone again. ‘Once again, Tahir has screwed up and I am involved in damage control. Although to be fair in this instance I would hold his father more to blame for his flight—’
Her brow furrowed. ‘His...flight? He’s run away from home?’
‘Not only that.’ Azrael’s mouth took on a sardonic curve. ‘He drove through a border checkpoint without stopping, hotly pursued by Quareini soldiers. There was a standoff between the forces on both sides of the border. The soldiers demanded the return of their quarry and the border guards refused because, when Tahir finally did stop, he was recognised and found to need medical attention. He has also claimed refugee status.’
Green eyes wide, Molly studied him in lively astonishment. ‘Refugee status? Tahir?’
‘He is legally within his rights...just,’ Azrael said very drily. ‘And I am torn between anger and sympathy while Prince Firuz is in an incandescent rage.’
‘Tahir really does know how to dig himself into a deep hole.’ Molly sighed, shaking her head.
‘I am sorry my brother is here under this roof. That is distressing for you.’
