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‘Did … did your brother and his wife enjoy themselves in London last week?’ she asked.
‘I assume so.’
‘They didn’t mention it?’
He raised dark brows. ‘Should they have done?’
‘Just … well, I thought it was quite a fun evening, that’s all.’
‘Indeed it was.’ He gave a brief smile, preoccupied with his forthcoming trip and pleased to have something to take his mind of the damned tension between them. ‘But they have a hectic life, you know, Izzy. Pretty much wall-to-wall socialising wherever they are.’
It was the hint of aloofness in his tone which made Isobel stiffen. That and the patronising sense that she had stepped over some invisible line of propriety. As if she had dared to look on the King and his wife as some sort of equals, instead of people she’d been lucky enough to meet only on a whim of Tariq’s.
‘Silly of me,’ she said lightly.
There was a pause as she forced herself to acknowledge the tension which had sprung up between them and which now seemed there all the time. She didn’t know when exactly it had happened, but it wouldn’t seem to go away. Like a pebble dropped into a pond, the ripples carried on for ages after the stone had plopped out of sight.
She knew what was going on because she’d witnessed it countless times before. Tariq was beginning to tire of her and he wanted the affair to be over—with the least possible disruption to him.
She thought of how the situation might pan out. He might decide to stay longer in Khayarzah than he’d intended. Or he might slot in lots of extra trips abroad which would seamlessly and physically separate them. And when they finally came face to face back in the office so much time would have passed that it would be easy to consign the whole affair to history.
Easy for him, perhaps—but not for her. She hadn’t done this kind of thing before. Unlike him, she was no good at pretending.
Wasn’t it better to face the truth head-on—no matter how difficult that might be? To confront reality rather than trying to airbrush it away? Wouldn’t that at least go some way to restoring her pride and making sure she didn’t whittle away at her self-respect until there was nothing left but an empty husk?
She forced a smile. ‘Tariq, I’ve been thinking.’
Something in her tone made his eyes narrow. ‘Oh?’
Her heart was hammering, but she forced herself to look directly into his eyes. ‘I’m due a lot of holiday—and I was wondering if I might take the chance to use up some of my entitlement while you’re away? Fiona’s pretty much up to speed, and she’s perfectly capable of running your office.’
Tariq stiffened as he heard the sudden formality of her tone. Holiday entitlement. Fiona running his office. He met her tawny gaze and felt a brief spear of something like pain as he realised what she was doing. Izzy was clever, he conceded. Clever enough to sense that he was cooling towards her.
‘Is that really necessary?’ he said.
It was a loaded question. She knew it, and he knew it too. Isobel nodded her head. ‘I think so. I think we need to give each other a little space, Tariq. This … affair has been pretty amazing, but I suspect it’s run its course—don’t you?’ She stared at him, willing him to say no. Longing for him to pull her into his arms and tell her she was out of her mind.
Tariq looked at her and felt a wave of admiration underpinned by a fleeting sense of regret. For, although he knew that this was the perfect solution, he was going to miss her as a lover. But relationships never stayed static. Already he could sense that she wanted more from him. More than he could ever give. And if he allowed her these weeks of absence mightn’t she come back refreshed and able to put the whole thing behind her? Couldn’t they go back to what they’d had before? That easy intimacy they’d shared before they had allowed sex to complicate everything?
Briefly, he acknowledged the stab of hurt pride that she should be the one to end it. But why shouldn’t he be the one on the receiving end of closure for a change? Mightn’t it do him some good?
‘I think you could be right,’ he said slowly.
‘You do?’ Could he hear the disappointment which had distorted her voice?
He nodded. ‘I do. Maybe it’s better we stop it now before it impacts on our working relationship.’
‘Oh, absolutely,’ she agreed, gritting her teeth behind her smile. Wanting to lash out at him for his naïveté. Did he really think it hadn’t impacted on their working relationship already?
‘And you deserve a break,’ he said, his gaze drifting over her face. ‘Why don’t you get some sun on your cheeks? You look awfully pale, Izzy.’
Dimly, she registered his words, and they gave her all the confirmation she needed. He thought that a short spell in the sun was all she needed to bring her back to normal. Oh, if only it was that easy. A strange dizziness was making her head spin. For a moment she felt icy-cold beads of sweat pricking her forehead and the sudden roar of blood in her ears.
‘Izzy?’ He was grabbing hold of her now, hot concern blazing from his black eyes. ‘For heaven’s sake! What’s the matter?’
His fingers were biting into her arms, but she shook them off and pulled herself away. Gripping onto the edge of the desk, she sucked in deep breaths of air and prayed she wouldn’t pass out.
Tell him.
