Page 49 of Sheikh's Scandal


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“Maybe they should have. What’s the answer?”

“My duty is clear.”

“Yes, but is it one you want, or even need, to take on right now?”

“You question things you cannot hope to understand.”

“Maybe.” But he still hadn’t answered the question and Liyah thought that was telling.

Sayed went back to his computer, dismissing her. Refusing to take it personally, Liyah skimmed his download of that morning’s copy of The Times. He had probably been happy to note there was no mention of Tahira’s elopement, but it would certainly be in tomorrow’s edition.

After a while, she set the reader down, intending to take that nap he suggested.

But as soon as she closed her eyes, everything started pressing in on her. The argument with her father played over in her mind like an unpleasant reality show. When she managed to push those images aside, then pictures of the night before rose up to fill the void.

An unrelenting montage of the sensual and profound that uselessly fed her newly discovered love.

Sighing, she opened her eyes.

It didn’t help. Her mind and heart were determined to dwell on emotions and experiences she would have been better off without.

Sayed turned from his work at his computer. “You are very pensive, Aaliyah.”

“Don’t you think I have reason to be?” She rubbed her temples. “I may not be an emir, but my whole life just took a ninety-degree turn.”

“Perhaps you needed a detour.”

“Do you think you know what’s best for everybody?”

“It is in the job description.”

“Right.”

He smiled.

And she almost smiled back. Darn him.

That nap was sounding better and better. If only she could sleep, but then she’d probably dream about him. She’d done that before they’d made love. Now the dreams would probably be even more frequent and, with her new knowledge, definitely more graphic.

She expected him to go back to his work, but he didn’t. “You said something yesterday about having a confrontation with your father being the reason you’d broken into Tahira’s liquor stash.”

Liyah opened her mouth to deflect, but she wanted to discuss the painful event with someone and Sayed was offering. “Yes.”

“It did not go well?”

“No.”

“You alluded to him treating you very poorly.” Sayed’s dark gaze probed hers.

“He did.”

“You are being rather laconic.” Sayed smiled, as if he found her amusing.

She didn’t mind. She liked his smile. Too much. “I suppose I am.”

She found herself grinning at his huff of obviously exaggerated exasperation, but then memories took away the lightness his humor had wrought. “It hurt that my father thought I was trying to work an angle, but that’s not what was most painful.”

“What was it, then?”

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