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‘Of course, my lady.’
‘Hold on,’ Jag said, feeling his irritation levels rise even higher at their unexpected mutual-appreciation society. ‘Why would you need
the postal address of the school?’
Regan gave him a faint smile. ‘It’s nothing. I promised one of the teachers I’d send them some art supplies because it’s the one area in the school that isn’t flourishing and it’s really important.’
‘I’m sorry?’ Jag was finding it hard to keep up with her.
‘The curriculum is really strong on maths, science and English, which can be a bit limiting, particularly for really young kids. They need music and art and lots of time to play so that their love of learning doesn’t wither and die in the later years.’
‘The reason the curriculum is set up that way is because when I took over as King the school system was in an appalling state.’
‘I heard. All the teachers, and local dignitaries, were singing your praises. Apparently ten years ago Santara was in the bottom three percent for literacy and now it’s only in the bottom twenty-five percent.’
Jag winced. That was mainly due to the remote country schools that were slow to keep pace with changes made in the cities, but he’d have liked things to be further along than they currently were. The problem was that he couldn’t be on top of everything, as Tarik was wont to tell him.
As if reading his mind, his loyal aide raised a brow, seeming to remind him that he wasn’t an island, and he scowled.
‘Anyway, I said I would send some specialist supplies I know my kids back home love to use.’
Jag shook his head. He should be used to women taking advantage of his position and thinking they could spend his money out of hand. Just because she was spending it on kids didn’t make him feel any more generous towards her. In fact, the disappointment that she was like so many other women, who couldn’t wait to get their hands on a man’s money, made his tone harsh.
‘Next time you think to abuse my generosity and allocate palace funds you might care to run it by me.’ His eyes were cool as they held hers. ‘I will, of course, honour your promise this time, but next time I won’t.’
A heavy silence filled the air and just when he was feeling that he had everything in hand Tarik moved to correct him.
‘Your Maj—’
‘Tarik, please don’t.’
Surprisingly Tarik did as Regan requested and Jag stared from one to the other. ‘What were you going to tell me, Tarik?’
Before his aide could speak Regan lifted her eyes to his. ‘He was going to tell you that I was planning to pay for the art supplies myself.’
Another silence followed her statement. This time a fulminating one. Jag dragged a hand through his hair. ‘How is it that you always seem to wrong-foot me, Miss James?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe it’s because you’re always looking for the worst in people.’
‘That would be because I’ve seen the worst in people.’ He sighed. ‘And you will not be spending your money on supplies for the school.’
‘But—’
‘The palace will provide whatever is needed. Education is of vital importance to our nation. Write up a list of what you want and give it to Tarik.’
‘Really?’ Her face lit up and she gave him a smile that stopped his heart. ‘You don’t know how happy that makes me to hear a world leader speaking that way about education. Too often governments just pay lip service to education issues and it’s completely debilitating for those who work in the industry. Do you have enough funds set aside for musical instruments too? From what I could tell, they’re woefully under-represented as well.’
At the term ‘lip service’ Jag’s gaze dropped to her sexy mouth and he reminded himself that he was not an untried fifteen-year-old boy but a grown man in full control of his faculties. ‘Don’t push your luck, habiba.’ If she did he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions. ‘And now you only have fifteen minutes to get ready. Should I tell them to hold dinner?’
‘No, no.’ Regan pivoted on her light feet and raced towards the connecting door to her room. ‘Give me ten minutes. And thank you. You’ve made me really happy.’
Swamped by emotions he couldn’t pin down, Jag immediately poured himself a stiff drink.
‘Everyone loved her today, Your Majesty; she’s—’
‘Here temporarily,’ Jag reminded Tarik, cutting off what was sure to be an enthusiastic diatribe as to Regan’s virtues. ‘Or have you forgotten that?’
‘No, Your Majesty, it’s just—’
