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She shuddered, turning to curl into a ball on her side as if making herself smaller would diminish the dread that name filled her with.
Did Crown Prince Hashim know they were on their way to Behran? Had Raschid told him? She was to find out soon enough.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
IT WAS late into the evening local time when the plane finally touched down at Behran Airport. Dressed more casually now, in a turquoise silk wrap-around skirt and long-sleeved cotton top, Evie stared out of the window at a scene that was, as with most airports, a hive of activity irrespective of the lateness of the hour.
'I didn't realise that Behran Airport was such a busy one,' she remarked to Raschid who was sitting beside her. 'It isn't, not by international standards anyway.' He frowned, dipping his dark head so that he too could glance out through the small porthole window. In the next second he was calling sharply for Asim who came hurrying down the aisle towards them. Reverting to Arabic, Raschid shot out a couple of curt questions that had Asim ducking his covered head to peer out of the window himself before he murmured something and walked off towards the flight deck. And Evie felt the tension begin to seep back into her system because neither man looked happy. 'What's wrong?' she asked Raschid. 'I don't know yet.' He was still frowning. Like herself he had changed just before they were due to land, only the difference between them was that he had reverted to Arab robes, and suddenly looked all the more alien for it with that black frown marring his face. 'But there is too much activity out there for this time of night.'
Perhaps not the most comforting thing to tell her, Evie mused as she glanced out of the window again. They were still taxiing towards the main airport building. It. was dark, of course, but the darkness had been diminished by the excessive amount of halogen lighting that seemed to be spotlighting the plane as it moved. And beneath the lights she could see people-lots of people standing watching their arrival as if they had nothing better to do.
Asim came back, his expression more sombre than when he had walked away. He relayed some information to Raschid in Arabic that had Raschid angrily freeing himself from his seat belt and standing up.
Pushing past the other man, he strode off towards the flight deck himself.
'Be calm,' Asim told Evie soothingly when he saw her expression. 'It is nothing to worry about.'
Then why are both you and Raschid looking distinctly worried she wanted to ask, but managed to keep the challenge to herself while her eyes remained fixed on the doorway Raschid had disappeared through.
The tension began to heighten the longer he was away. By the time he did finally reappear, the plane had come to a standstill some way off from the main building itself. 'Don't be too alarmed,' he warned, which thoroughly alarmed her. 'But my father has been interfering with my plans again.'
'Wh-why?' she said nervously. 'What has he done?' 'He has arranged a reception committee to meet us here at the plane. I'm sorry,' he sighed, coming to sit himself down beside her. 'This was not what I wanted. But-if you will just try to see it as a positive manoeuvre, in his own way he is trying to offer you a welcome.'
But you're not feeling very positive about this, Evie thought as she felt all that bravery he had attributed her earlier drain right away.
'What do I have to do?' she asked, glancing warily sideways to see what looked like a dozen people in flowing robes making determinedly for the plane. Her stomach flipped, her legs turned to jelly. Maybe she even trembled a little, because Raschid reached across her and slammed the shutter down over the window.
'You will be yourself,' he firmly replied. 'I ask no more of you.'
'Be myself in a cloak and veil?' she drawled suggestively, expecting him to instantly deny the challenge.
But he didn't. Instead his expression darkened perceptibly. 'I would request that you wear the gown you married me in today,' he said. 'As a sign of respect,' he quickly explained. 'For those people who have come here so late in the evening to officially greet you.'
'One being your father,' Evie murmured grimacingly. 'No,' he denied. 'My father is not quite strong enough to leave his palace. So we,' he added slowly, 'are to go to him.'
'What, now?' Evie jerked out, twisting her head to stare at him. 'Tonight?'
'It is perhaps a sensible alternative, when my father's palace is only a few minutes' drive away from here,' he said. 'Whereas my palace is still another hour's flying by helicopter away.'
But, sensible or not, Raschid was still angry at the way his plans had been outmanoeuvred; Evie could see that in the grim set of his jaw. He was also uneasy about what all of this really meant; she could see that in the frown that still pulled at his brows, and in the perturbed glitter he was trying hard to hide beneath the heavy droop of his lashes.
'What do you really think this all means?' she questioned huskily. 'And be honest with me, Raschid,' she added. 'I would rather be prepared for the worst than have it suddenly dumped on me so late that I have no time to react.'
'As I dumped this trip on you too late for you to react?' He grimaced.
'No.' Evie smiled, and to her own surprise the smile relaxed some of the tension out of her. 'Because your instincts were right and if you'd warned me that you were going to bring me here before we left England, I would probably have refused to come,' she admitted. Seeing the smile seemed to relax him too, and he reached out to touch a gentle finger to the corner of her upturned mouth. 'I am going to take my own advice and be very positive about this,' he murmured softly to her. 'So I am going to put to you that I think my father's intentions are entirely honourable, and he is attempting here to heal the breach at the first opportunity we are handing him.'
'And you want me to do the same,' Evie concluded from that.
'Can you?'
'I can try,' she agreed. 'But I can't say I'm looking forward to any of this.'
It took only a few minutes to change back into her antique gold wedding gown. Asim found her a long white silk scarf from somewhere, which he advised her to drape loosely around her face.
Stepping back into the main cabin, she found that Raschid, too, had changed the dark blue outer robe he had been wearing for a much more dramatic black silk one trimmed with gold. And as he turned to face her she saw that a wide gold sash was now wrapped around his lean waist.
The black and gold made him look different somehow, taller, darker-disturbingly alien as he ran golden eyes still sharpened by anger over her covered head to her satin shod feet.
