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Tahir wouldn’t be so crass as to direct his staff to show her into a room that belonged to a lover or concubine.
Nevertheless, she needed to be sure. The mixture of dread and jealousy stirring in her stomach would only grow if she remained silent.
‘I think there’s been a mistake. These clothes...’ She paused, wondering how to couch her words without causing offence. ‘They’re not mine.’
‘His Majesty’s residences maintain a certain standard,’ Nesa replied. ‘I’m sure he wouldn’t like for any guest to feel...inconvenienced.’
Lauren sensed criticism within the words but strove to rise above it.
Delivering a saccharine smile of her own—a talent she’d honed from years of dealing with sketchy politicians with hidden agendas—she nodded. ‘Thank you for the consideration.’
Nesa inclined her head, and just like that the matter was settled. They showed her the balcony with the trellised pergola that boasted even more areas for relaxation and after another stolen minute admiring the jaw-dropping views of mountains and sand dunes, she returned to the bedroom, freezing when she saw the phone on the bedside table.
‘Do you have mobile service here?’
Her heart fell as Nesa shook her head. ‘No, but the landline works.’
She barely heard Nesa say she would fetch her in five minutes. The moment Lauren was alone, she hurried to the phone. Heart in her mouth, she lifted the receiver and dialled the familiar number.
‘Hello?’
‘Lauren?’ Her mother’s cultured tones held underlying censure and disapproval. ‘Where have you been? The staff have been trying to reach you at your hotel since yesterday.’
The staff.
Not her. Not her father. No enquiries as to whether she was okay.
Despite three decades of the tangible distance she’d always felt from her parents, her stupid, vulnerable craving for acceptance made it hurt that neither of them had bothered to pick up the phone themselves.
She gripped the handset tighter and buried the hurt, as she was used to doing. ‘There was no time to let you know where I was going.’
‘And where did you go?’ Alice Winchester enquired. ‘Did you manage to make progress with Matt’s case?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Not yet,’ her mother echoed, a distinct chill in her voice. ‘You’ve been there four days.’
I’m not a miracle worker, she wanted to snap. She bit her tongue just in time to hear her mother sniff.
‘Poor Matt must be beside himself.’
‘Have you spoken to him?’
A throb of silence passed before her mother answered, ‘I’ve been told he’s not allowed phone calls.’
It wasn’t true. Her mother simply hadn’t been able to fit in a call to her jailed son around her schedule. Or more likely, her father had forbidden her from contacting Matt in case word got out.
‘We’ll have ample time to speak when he gets home. You are making sure that happens, aren’t you?’ The question was pointed, the ever-present implication that Lauren wasn’t allowed to fail heavily underscored.
Her gaze went to the empty doorway, for some absurd reason picturing Tahir standing there with another brooding look levelled her way. Heat snaked through her, her mind delving back to what had happened at the springs, how much she’d given up to him, consequences be damned—
‘Lauren? Are you there?’
She started guiltily, controlling her erratic breathing as she answered, ‘I’m here, Mum. And...yes, I’m working on it.’
‘Good. Your father will be glad to hear that. We really need to put this unpleasant business behind us as soon as possible. Let us know when you’re both on your way home.’ The final words held a throb of hope laced with guilt, and she wondered whether her mother felt more than she was projecting.
Before Lauren could be certain, the line went dead. She replaced the receiver as Tahir’s words from last night echoed in her mind.
