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His gaze drifted over her face, lingering on her lips before rising to meet hers once more. ‘My given name will suffice,’ he replied.
Her mouth tingling, she attempted to nod. When she barely succeeded in moving her head, she swallowed and tried her voice instead. ‘I... Okay.’
That damnable brow lifted. ‘Okay? Perhaps you should try using my name. Let’s be sure it is satisfactory to both of us. Perhaps in a morning greeting?’
‘Good morning... Zaid.’
Brandy-coloured eyes turned a shade darker. He stared at her for a handful of seconds before his lids swept down, masking his gaze. This close, Esme couldn’t help but appreciate the indecently long male beauty of his lashes. Too soon, he speared her with those piercing eyes, his mouth quirking when he caught her staring.
‘Sit down, Esmeralda. Our breakfast is getting cold.’
She sat. She even managed to chew and swallow a few morsels of food. All in silence while several members of staff approached to speak to Zaid. Belatedly, she realised that for him this was a working breakfast. She was thankful for the chance to collect her scattered thoughts.
What she wasn’t thankful for was the ominous approach of Fawzi as they were finishing their meal. The sixth sense she’d honed during her time with her father warned her that whatever news he was about to deliver wouldn’t be welcome.
To give him his due, he didn’t glance her way once. But even before he bent to murmur in his master’s ear, even before Zaid’s jaw clenched and he cast a glance at her, Esme’s belly was rolling with dread.
‘What is it? What’s happened?’ she demanded the moment Fawzi straightened.
‘It looks like you’ll get to see your father much sooner than planned. There’s been another altercation at the prison.’
CHAPTER SIX
ESME HURRIED TO keep up with Zaid’s strides, although she had no idea where they were headed. He’d merely risen from his chair and instructed her to come with him.
‘How could there have been another altercation? He’s still in the prison hospital,’ she said.
‘No, he’s not. Apparently, he was moved back to his cell in the middle of the night.’
Her heart lurched. ‘And he’s been attacked again already?’
‘The details are still sketchy. But I’ll have answers within the hour.’
She believed him. The grim set of his jaw and the purpose to his stride told her so. What she didn’t realise until they approached double doors manned by sentries who swung them open to reveal a walled terrace was that he intended on seeking the answers first-hand.
Stone steps led down to meticulously landscaped gardens that rolled for almost a quarter mile. In the middle of it all, on a patch of grass, a helipad the size of two tennis courts held three helicopters with the royal insignia emblazoned on their gleaming frames.
Time slowed, along with her feet. A loud buzzing sounded in her ears, her palms growing clammy as she stared at the helicopter that Zaid was heading towards. Dry-mouthed, she urged her feet to move, but it was like being stuck in treacle.
Zaid, noticing that she wasn’t beside him, turned sharply. Esme sensed more than saw his frown. ‘Is something the matter?’ he demanded.
The sound of his voice brought time rushing back, fast-forwarded in a kaleidoscope of shameful, cutting memories.
Vegas.
A thrilling helicopter ride over the Grand Canyon.
Hopeful smiles and a stumbling proposal of marriage. Bryan’s haunting expression when he’d discovered the truth—
‘What is wrong? Are you feeling unwell?’ came the sharp query.
Esme jumped, blinking back into the present and the man whose towering shadow dwarfed her.
He was staring at her with a puzzled frown, one that grew darker with each second.
‘I... I’m not a fan of helicopters.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘You suffer from vertigo?’
