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But she could see the weary cynicism in his eyes, and had heard the bitter edge in his tone… And she doubted anything she had to say on the subject would convince him, so she simply smiled and decided to lighten the mood instead.
‘Whatever you say, Your Majesty. I’ll see you at noon tomorrow. If nothing else this should be a grand adventure,’ she finished, pleased when she heard another tired chuckle.
‘Yeah, right,’ he murmured.
When she got back to her suite, she sent Dervla a text, telling her she was heading to Zafar, then switched off her phone.
She did not need to be bombarded with a ton of fanciful nonsense by her sister right now.
But as she put the phone down and got ready for bed, the bubble of exhilaration she hadn’t really acknowledged until this moment expanded.
Going to Zafar with Karim would be a grand adventure. So much about Karim fascinated and excited her.
Here was a chance to discover more about him, and to see where this thing, this connection, or whatever it was between them, might lead. She would be well outside her comfort zone again, but was that really a bad thing? She’d spent so many years making a place for herself—finding a purpose—in Kildare, in some ways her work there had become a prison. She’d become scared to try anything new, to move away from the comfortable, the familiar and take a chance. She’d allowed her weaknesses as well as her strengths to define her, but Karim had already shown he had confidence in her abilities. Now she just needed to be brave again. And bold. And see where this new adventure might lead her.
She sobered, recalling the flash of confusion, even vulnerability on Karim’s face when he’d lifted his head earlier to find her standing in the doorway of his study.
The death of his father had hurt Karim in ways she was fairly sure he wasn’t even aware of.
He needed her support. Even if he refused to admit it. Because however short, or fake, or fleeting their relationship, she understood what he was going through because she’d been through it herself when her own father had died a year ago. She’d had to pick herself up, deal with the conflicting emotions she felt towards a man she’d once loved and looked up to who had let her and her sister down terribly in the end. Coping with her grief in the midst of all that had been next to impossible—and the only way she’d survived it was by immersing herself in work, in caring for the horses she loved, and by leaning on Dervla and Maeve and Gerry and her other friends and colleagues.
Karim had more than enough work to keep him busy, but he didn’t seem to have any friends, anyone who could lift his spirits or look out for him when the going got really tough.
And maybe she wasn’t his friend—and he didn’t want her support—but he had rescued her once. Was it really so wrong to want to rescue him in return?
CHAPTER TEN
AS THE CHAUFFEUR-DRIVEN cavalcade of vehicles crested the rocky terrain and the minarets of Zafar’s Palace of the Kings sparkled in the setting sun in the distance, the dark thoughts that had defined so much of Karim’s boyhood and adolescence crowded into his mind.
His mother’s pale, drawn face—which looked so young now from the distance of twenty-two years. The tight thin line of his father’s lips, the spark of anger in his golden eyes—signals that Karim had displeased him again and would be punished.
Karim tensed, humiliated by the dropping sensation in his stomach—the echo of that long-ago fear—as the car rolled through the palace gates, and made its way past the honour guard of tribesmen and uniformed officers in Zafar’s red and gold livery.
A soft gasp beside him yanked him free from the bitter memories. And he turned to see Orla, her vibrant hair contrasting with her pale skin as she stared in awe at the palace’s golden walls. They passed into the lavish inner sanctum of lush planting, exotic birds and trees, elaborate fountains and deep pools of blue-green water created in defiant contrast to the barren desert that surrounded them.
‘It’s so beautiful,’ she remarked, those wide emerald eyes meeting his.
‘Is it?’ he said as the familiar spike of desire and yearning—and something more debilitating, an emotion he couldn’t and wouldn’t name—accosted him. He quashed it, as he had so many times in the last ten hours, ever since he’d met her on the heliport in Belgravia.
Just knowing she was with him, tucked in a seat at the back of the private jet reading a book, had helped to calm him down while he worked with his advisors during the long plane journey. But being in this damn car with her for two hours, for the drive from Zafar’s main airport, had been nothing short of torture. The phantom sound of soft sobs, the very real scent of her permeating his senses, had put his whole body on high alert while he was supposed to be concentrating on how the hell to navigate the next few days, weeks, God help him, probably even months…
She’d caught him at a weak moment the night before, and he’d given in to the need coursing through his body—to have her by his side while he dealt with this new reality. But it wasn’t just the familiar surge of heat that accosted him as she stared back at him, her eyes seeing so much more than he wanted her to see. Just as they had last night.
‘I’m sorry you don’t think so,’ she said.
The intuitive remark made the vice around his ribs—which had dogged him ever since he’d learned of his father’s death—tighten.
Why had he really wanted her here? Was it just to finally satisfy the sweaty erotic dreams that had pursued him for days now? Or the expediency of not creating a diplomatic incident by terminating the engagement too soon…? Or was it more than that?
Why had he been incapable of leaving her behind, when he’d never had a problem facing his demons alone before now?
One thing was for sure. He would have her tonight—and put at least one damn demon to rest.
‘Once the official introductions are concluded, I’ll have you escorted to my quarters,’ he said, the tightness in his chest joined by the much more familiar spike of desire.
The blush hit her cheeks. ‘Okay,’ she said softly.
The breath he hadn’t even realised he was holding gushed out at the indication that she was still willing.
