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er, my father – two people we hardly knew.”
“Yes.” She didn’t need to turn around to know he was right behind her, so close that the single word breathed across her neck.
“Have you spoken to your father about this?”
“It’s ancient history now,” Raffa said gruffly.
She turned around, and he was right there, his body so close that only a paper’s width separated them. “Not for you. It’s still inside you, right here.” She pressed a finger to his chest. “You love him, but you’re angry with him too. Talk to him. Give him a chance to explain.”
A muscle jerked in Raffa’s cheek. “Why? What good could come of it?”
“It might change your outlook on life,” Chloe said haltingly. “It might change your outlook on everything. People, relationships, decisions.” Our marriage…
“No, habibte. I’m grateful to my parents for showing me the futility of love. The futility of fantasy and romance and dreams. I was born to be King to my country – that is my duty, and it is my love. That is all I care about – what’s best for Ras el Kida.”
Chloe’s eyes swept shut for a moment as more pieces slid into place. He wanted to do what was best for Ras el Kida, and that meant providing the country with an heir – and for that, she was instrumental.
There was nothing more between them. She had to remember that, even when her foolish heart was galloping hard and fast inside of her.
This wasn’t love; it was dynasty.
Chapter Nine
“YOUR HIGHNESS,” AYSHA BOWED low as she approached Chloe, drawing her attention away from the book she was reading (she was well-past the Beast now, and had moved onto the story of a bird, with wide wings that glistened silver underneath, that flew high over the desert, singing the song of a thousand children laughing).
“What is it, Aysha?”
“Mister Amit has asked to see you.” An infinitesimal frown showed a hint of disapproval, and Chloe was instantly intrigued. “I have told him you are working.”
“I’m reading a book of fairy tales,” Chloe chided with a small smile.
“Yes.”
“You don’t think he should have come here?”
Aysha chose her words carefully. “I think he shouldn’t call on you.”
Chloe arched a brow. “You know his relationship to my husband,” she said boldly, sounding unaffected by the fact her husband had a child with another woman. “He’s family, Aysha. As far as I’m concerned, he can call anytime he likes.”
Aysha’s frown deepened. “But you are Sheikha…”
“Amit is one of the only people I know here at the palace. Would you deprive me a friend?”
“He’s a twelve year old boy…”
“And I enjoy his company.” Chloe stood, her expression showing determination. “Where is he?”
“Waiting outside.”
“You left him in the hallway?” She said, disbelief on her face. “Aysha,” she reprimanded gently. “He is family.” She said the word with reverence – odd, given that she hadn’t known enough of family to intrinsically rely on it so deeply.
“Yes, your highness,” Aysha said with a sigh of disagreement. “I’ll let him in.”
“Don’t bother,” Chloe softened her rejoinder with a smile. “I’ll go.”
“Your highness!” Ayshas’ exasperation was evident. “It’s not appropriate --,”
Chloe laughed. “I want to go for a walk, Aysha. I was just going to finish my chapter and then go out, anyway.”
