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“I doubt luck has anything to do with it. I’m sure you and his father are excellent parents.”
Melinda looked to Ra’if and then flicked her gaze back to Olivia. “His … father … isn’t in the picture. But thank you. I would love to think I can take at least a little of the credit for what a sweet boy he is.”
“Raising him on your own must be hard. My sister Ava was in a similar situation. She brought my niece Millie up on her own in the beginning and I know it was a struggle at times. You have my admiration.”
“Thank you,” Melinda smiled, taking the compliment. “It’s not easy,” she said thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t recommend
it, and it wouldn’t have been my first preference.” Her eyes strayed distractedly towards the hallway. “But at the same time, I have loved it. I have loved not having to share him. That probably sounds silly.”
“No,” Olivia shook her head, a smile on her features. “I understand that. Are you amicable with the father?”
“Umm,” she said, toying with her fingers.
At one time, Olivia might have apologised for obviously making Melinda a little uncomfortable. But she’d been Sheikha for two years, and had become used to a degree of authority. “Does he ever see Jordan?”
Ra’if, from the edge of the kitchen, had been watching the byplay between the two women with a degree of fascination. He loved Olivia dearly, but he was in love with Melinda, and he was not content to see her upset. “You are interrogating her,” he said with gentle admonishment to his sister-in-law.
“Oh, Melinda!” Olivia clapped a hand to her lips and shook her head. “I was. I know I was. I didn’t mean to. I seem to have forgotten all my manners.”
“It’s fine,” Melinda said quietly, instantly warming to the blonde. “The situation is just complicated.”
“And you just met me. Forgive me.” She smiled at Ra’if and he returned it.
“Come.” Ra’if led the way into the dining room. The Christmas tree stood, enormous and magical, instantly lifting Melinda’s mood.
“Oh, Ra’if. Look at it,” Olivia laughed. “You really went over the top, huh?”
“I’m afraid that might have been my influence,” Melinda grinned. “I’m a bit of a lost cause when it comes to Christmas.”
“Hey, me too!” Olivia laughed. “My sisters and I are all the same. Our mum was a Christmas tragic and I guess she passed it on.”
“What do you do for Christmas?” Melinda asked, settling herself opposite Olivia.
“It’s changed since I got married, of course,” Olivia said thoughtfully. “Zami and I have obligations now. But the private moments are my favourite. We have a rule that the gifts we buy for one another will not be valuable.”
“It’s the thought that counts?” Melinda prompted curiously.
“Exactly.” Olivia nodded enthusiastically, dislodging a tendril of her fair hair. It shimmered like it had been sprayed with glitter. “I don’t want him wasting money on me. God, what do we need? We are so fortunate and blessed with what we have.” Her smile was kindness and goodness. “Last year he got me a puppy,” she grinned. “And this year I’m giving him hand soap.”
“Hand soap?” Melinda repeated, a small frown playing about her lips.
“It’s from the hotel we were staying at when we met,” she explained further. “In Vegas.”
Was Melinda imagining the way Ra’if stiffened beside her? The way his body suddenly seemed to radiate tension?
Curious, she prompted, “Vegas? What were you doing there?”
Olivia shifted a little in her seat, misunderstanding. Of course, she assumed Melinda knew the truth of Ra’if’s treatment there. “I was a celebrity concierge. Basically that’s where you get hired to do whatever a celebrity or person of high profile needs. In this case, it was to keep Zami and Ra’if out of the press.”
“What an incredible job.”
“Yes, for the most part. I met some real creeps though.” She pulled a face.
“And now you live in Dashan?”
Ra’if seemed to relax visibly, reaching for a piece of sushi, effortlessly wielding chopsticks as though he’d been using them all his life.
“Yes. I’ve been there almost two years.”
