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“True,” he said, so smoothly that for a second she was mollified. “But my brother-in-law’s authority is absolute and you had better believe he despises you as much as I do.”
Eleanor’s stomach squeezed tight. The Sheikh of Ras el Kida was young and vibrant, but there was an inherent power to him that made Apollo’s statement disconcerting.
“He adores my sister and would put you in prison before he let you cause her a moment’s harm or worry.”
Now Eleanor began to tremble properly. “Ras el Kida is a civilized country,” she said weakly. “I have rights…”
“Regardless of what you might think about this country’s ‘civilisation’, Raffa is not a man to let anyone harm his family – and you’ve already done plenty of that.”
“I told you, I’m not here to hurt your sister…”
“That’s not something I find easy to believe.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “But if you’d prefer, I can take you to Raffa to plead your case.”
Eleanor’s body sagged. “You can’t be serious?”
“Why ever not? You’re only writing a harmless political piece, after all. He could give you an interview…”
“Stop it,” she said.
“Or,” Apollo continued with a thread of danger in his voice, “He might put you in prison and throw away the key.”
Eleanor swept her eyes shut and now, she recognized the futility of her predicament. She wouldn’t be able to stay in Ras el Kida any longer. She’d have to go. “Fine,” she muttered, her eyes unknowingly bleak when they met his. “I’ll leave.”
“You think I’d simply let you walk away from this?”
“What do you mean?”
“After everything you did, you think I’d trust you? You’ve been working on this piece for God knows how long – no way do you get to ride off into the sunset and churn out some harmful, vindictive rubbish about Chloe and Raf.”
She resisted the temptation to tell him she wasn’t writing anything harmful at all – he clearly wasn’t going to believe her. “Well, you’ve made it pretty darned obvious I can’t stay here, so where do you expect me to go.”
“You’re coming with me,” he growled. “And you’re staying with me until I can be sure you’ve given up any idea of ever writing another word about me, my family, or anyone remotely connected to us. Got it?”
Eleanor shook her head, so that her dark brown hair fell from behind the head scarf she wore. “No. Never.”
Apollo’s eyes met the challenge in hers. “That wasn’t an invitation.”
“And my answer wasn’t negotiable. I’ll leave the palace. I’ll go back to England. But I wouldn’t go anywhere with you – even if I my life depended on it.”
“Perhaps I’m not making myself clear,” Apollo murmured with a dangerous edge to the words. “If you do not come with me, I’ll turn you and your recording device over to the next guard we see. Treason is a very serious offence here. I wasn’t kidding about Raffa locking you up and throwing away the key – and he’d do so with the full support of his government.”
Her breathing was uneven and she reached for the railing to steady herself. “You don’t mean any of this. You’re angry about the article, and I understand that. I really do. But threatening me now is beneath you, Apollo. You’re bluffing.”
“You’re welcome to test that theory.”
She couldn’t see clearly – she had no idea what to say or do. Though Ras el Kida was progressive, their royalty was an institution that the people guarded with their lives, and Eleanor didn’t really doubt that her presence would be punishable under some law or another – despite how innocent her intentions were. But would Apollo really dob her in?
“I don’t believe you,” she said weakly, after several tense moments.
“Then walk away and see how far you get.”
She closed her eyes, her body aching, her mind numb. Silence stretched between them, but it was heavy with acceptance. Because she couldn’t call his bluff – she didn’t dare.
“Where would you send me?”
His look was one of triumph; it flared in his eyes and made her ache to say something, anything, to pull the plug on his gloating look of success.
“You don’t need to know where. Just be grateful I’m getting you out of this country before anyone discovers who you really are.”
