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Grinding his teeth at the additional sarcasm lacing his friend’s tone, Sayed hung up the phone.
He turned to face Aaliyah. She’d scooted to the other side of the king-size bed and was sitting against the headboard, her long, dark hair in just-woken-up disarray, the sheet pulled up over her nudity.
The way it outlined her delectable curves, he did not think the cotton provided the barrier she thought it did.
There was no point putting off what he would rather avoid altogether. “My bodyguard insists you sign a nondisclosure agreement.”
Aaliyah nodded and then winced. Pressing the hand not holding the sheet in a death grip against the side of her head, she let her eyelids slide shut.
“You do not mind?”
“No,” Aaliyah said in a whisper. “Would you mind not yelling, though?”
“You’ve got a hangover?”
Her eyes snapped open, fire sparking in their narrowed green depths. “Thank you, Captain Obvious.”
He laughed, when he was sure nothing could have made him do so today. Not when he faced one of the biggest political crises of his life.
CHAPTER SEVEN
AALIYAH’S FROWN TURNED into a full-on glare.
And Sayed’s laughter increased, lightness pushing away a layer of his stress. “You are a breath of fresh air.”
“Why? No one else frowns at you?”
“It is pretty rare.” He stood up, unashamed of his nudity. “Come. You can have the first shower. It will help.”
She stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “I’ll wait until you leave.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He started going through the drawers and cabinets in the room. “Are there any pain relievers in the suite?”
“Your fian…the princess requested we stock ibuprofen. It is in the bathroom cabinet.”
“She’s not a princess,” Sayed remarked as he went in search of the pain reliever. “Her father is a very influential sheikh, but he is not a king. And now she is merely a Mrs. Palace Aid.”
Which would not afford her any of the prestige or benefits life as his wife would have done.
“You’re a little bitter there.”
Coming back out of the bathroom with two pills and a glass of water, he shrugged. “She chose her life, now she will live it.”
And he did not think the pampered daughter of a powerful sheikh would enjoy her newly humbled circumstances as much as Tahira clearly believed she would.
“Love makes up for a lot of deprivation.”
“That is a sweet sentiment, but not very realistic.” He handed Aaliyah the pills and water.
She frowned up at him. “My mother and I went without many luxuries you probably take for granted as necessities, but I never doubted her love and that made up for everything.”
“She was no doubt an amazing woman,” he said with sincerity.
Ms. Amari had raised Aaliyah, after all.
“She was.” With a look of sadness, Aaliyah looked away as she swallowed the pills.
When she tried to hand him back the glass, he shook his head. “Drink it all. It will help.”
