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His response gave her no clue as to the cause of the atmosphere she’d sensed between the two of them. ‘She’s very beautiful.’
* * *
She’s poison, Zain wanted to say. Instead he gave the stallion one last pat and nodded to the man who appeared to take him away. ‘This evening Kayla has asked us to join her for dinner.’
Abby nodded but with little enthusiasm. ‘It must be very hard for her.’
‘I said you were still too tired.’
He was giving her an out but he fervently hoped she wouldn’t take it.
‘Will you be all right?’
‘Why wouldn’t I be all right?’ Abby asked in confusion. ‘It’s not as though we’re going to be living in each other’s pockets, is it? I’m sure you’re going to be busy getting used to your new role...’
He tipped his head in acknowledgement. ‘I do intend to be more...hands-on than my brother. It will be a steep learning curve. Concerning your days, things will run smoother once you have a team of staff around you. I have selected some candidates but I wasn’t sure of you’d like to interview them personally or have Layla or one of my team do it?’
‘Staff...team...me...?’ She shook her head in an attitude of bewilderment.
‘Obviously you will have your own staff.’
‘But surely that wouldn’t be necessary—I’m not really—’
He cut across her faltering protest. ‘The world is meant to think you are really, and what do you intend to do for the next eighteen months—hide in your room? You’ll be bored stiff in two minutes,’ he predicted.
‘So you want me to fill my time with riding lessons, and what, unveiling statues, general good works...?’ The barely disguised uncertainty in her voice told him she didn’t have a clue what the royal duties of the wife of a prince were.
‘It might keep you out of trouble.’ And hopefully out of Kayla’s way. The only reason he had accepted this evening’s invite was to make it quite clear to Kayla that she was to keep away from Abby and to dash any expectation she had that the two of them would ever get back together.
The memory of her propositioning him in a not very subtle manner he assumed had been meant to arouse him, with his wife standing just feet away, was still fresh in his mind. The effect on him had been the opposite to what she’d intended, as Zain had stood there wondering, as he did now, how he could ever have been taken in by her, how he could have missed the naked ambition that motivated her. His response to her inappropriate overture had been constrained by the public place; this evening it would not be.
