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“Wanted to see the princess,” the boy said instead of answering.
“I see. She is very special, is she not?”
The little boy nodded and Angele gave the child the first genuine smile he’d seen from her in days. “What is your name?”
Zahir didn’t catch the muffled answer over a commotion going on to his right. The young girl his bodyguards allowed to come forward looking two parts terrified and one part awed, resembled the boy too much to be anything other than an older sister.
She confirmed Zahir’s guess with her first words. “My brother didn’t mean anything. I’m supposed to be watching him in the car while our parents run an errand, but we wanted to see the new princess.”
“Please don’t be upset.” Angele gave another one of her genuine smiles to the girl. “He hasn’t caused any trouble.”
The girl did not look appreciably mollified. “My parents are going to be very angry.”
“Perhaps they will not be so upset if they join us for dinner,” Angele said.
The young girl stared as if she could not believe what Angele had said. The maître d’, who had joined them outside, was looking at Angele with much the same expression on his usually unflappable face.
It was a politically brilliant move that would do much to shore up his princess’ popularity with his people. And considering the lack of success of Zahir’s attempts to romantically woo his bride-to-be, he didn’t mind the extra company tonight.
Angele gave him a pleading look that had nothing in common with her new persona of serenity ice princess, and there was no chance he would kibosh the invitation. He turned to his bodyguard with instructions to find the parents and have them join the royal couple and their children in the restaurant for dinner.
He would have done far more for the genuine and warm gratitude now glowing in Angele’s espresso-brown gaze.
Angele stood outside the secret passageway door to Zahir’s rooms. Her hands were clammy and the nausea that had for the most part abated, was back in response to her jumping nerves.
This evening, she and Zahir had connected in a way they had not since she’d first seen the hurtful photos. She hoped they could connect in other ways tonight as well.
Before she could allow herself to change her mind, she lifted her hand and knocked on the panel. Then, without waiting for an answer, she pulled on the lever. It wasn’t locked from the other side and the door swung inward.
A quick glance revealed that Zahir wasn’t in the bedroom, so she crossed to the sitting room. His expression inquiring, he was standing up from a desk with an open laptop on its surface when she came in.
He’d discarded his robes of State and his suit jacket, as well as his tie. His shirt was unbuttoned at the neck, giving her a glimpse of the dark hair that covered his chest and the sleeves were rolled up to reveal his muscular forearms.
It was an intimate look, few would be privileged to see.
His eyes widened fractionally as they focused on her. “Princess, what are you doing here?”
“I wanted to thank you for allowing that family to have dinner with us.” Angele had other plans as well, but she had enough diplomacy not to mention them right off the start.
“It was surprisingly enjoyable.” He bent down and pressed a button on the laptop, sending it into hibernate.
So, he wasn’t going to try to rush her out of there. Good. “Surprisingly?” she asked.
“I do not usually enjoy dining with strangers.”
“You do it often enough in your official capacity.”
“Exactly.”
“Yet, you didn’t hesitate to extend the invitation for them to join us when I asked.” And that made her feel warm and gooey inside.
Was that pathetic? Did it matter? It was her life, after all. Not someone else’s. She needed to live it for her happiness, or what she could grasp of it.
Which was why she was here, instead of chewing on all sorts of unpleasant possibilities for the future in her lonely bed.
He reached out and touched the corner of her softly curved lips, an unreadable expression on his face. “I will always try to give you what you desire, when I can.”
“I appreciate that.” Did she need his love when she had his commitment?
