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‘...why you’re sacrificing yourself for the sake of your ungrateful family.’
The question prodded harder as she stared at herself in the bathroom mirror.
Her braid had come loose during her swim. Locating a brush, she dragged it through the tresses until they flowed over her shoulders. Aware that the minutes were fast ticking down, she hurried to the dressing room and plucked out the first outfit she saw.
The cobalt-blue skirt was the same layered Jukrati design she’d worn last night, but with a wide-sleeved matching top. The material was a soft, light and airy linen, the exaggerated boat-shaped design of the top allowing for her healing shoulder burns not to be aggravated.
Sliding on slippers in the same hue, she dug out her lip gloss from her handbag and applied a light sheen before leaving her bed suite.
Nesa was waiting on a delicate-looking scroll bench outside her rooms, her arms folded neatly in her lap. When she saw Lauren, she rose and politely gestured towards another arched hallway.
They passed Doric columns and walls decorated with Arabian lanterns that threw artful shapes onto the walls, making the whole space a feast for the eyes and the senses.
Another myriad hallways, tiny alcoves and courtyards later, they arrived in the largest space she’d seen yet.
It was a garden courtyard, the largest one she’d seen so far and it was stunning, the peacock-green walls and trees decorated with miniature Turkish lamps that would be spectacular in the evening. In true Jukrati style, low divans and long benches festooned with bright-coloured cushions were positioned in careful arrangements. In one corner, a small fountain tinkled pleasantly, adding a relaxing ambience to the space.
Seeing Tahir seated at one of the tables didn’t exactly aid that relaxation though. Hysterical butterflies took wing in her belly, their agitation intensifying the closer she got to him.
He’d changed attire too, and if his all-black garments from last night had given him a larger-than-life presence, his all-white tunic and trousers now lent him a towering aura that was far too breathtaking.
He watched her for a beat before he spoke. ‘You spoke to your parents.’
It wasn’t a question. Anger and hurt—most likely a residue from her phone call with her mother—lashed within her. ‘You’re monitoring my calls?’
‘Do I need to remind you again of my security protocols?’ Before she could answer, he continued coolly, ‘A call was logged to England. The content of your call wasn’t monitored. I drew the natural conclusion.’
As quickly as it rose, her temper dissipated. ‘Okay. Yes, I spoke with my mother.’
One eyebrow slowly rose. ‘By your tone, the conversation didn’t go the way you imagined it would?’
She wanted to snap at him not to make her relive it. But that was as good as admitting things were bad. That she was burying her head in the sand. And...she was tired of doing that. Tired of fighting on endless fronts.
‘No, it didn’t.’
He stared at her for an age, then, without breaking eye contact, he raised his hand. Seeming to materialise out of thin air, a smiling young man stepped forward with a tray of refreshments. ‘Lunch will be served in two hours. In the meantime, have something. You barely ate the picnic food.’
The reminder of their torrid episode at the springs drew heat into her face. She remained silent as a bountiful spread was laid out on the table.
Then the now familiar hourglass tray was delivered on a hand-painted pedestal and placed next to her chair.
‘Shall we resume?’
He was sticking to the letter of their game, but she had a strong feeling he would be counting the minutes until he took full control again.
When she lifted the silk cloth, a mere fifteen minutes stood between her and his wish. Resolutely, she flipped the hourglass. And took a different tack.
‘Are you going to tell me what the problem is in Riyaal?’
For the longest time, his lips firmed. Just when she thought he’d refuse to answer, he did. ‘My cousin is being obstinate about our trade talks. Apparently, he’s decided the terms aren’t quite to his liking even though we agreed on them months ago.’
‘And you can’t hold him to them?’
Tahir exhaled in frustration. ‘I’ve just learned he’s made bad deals with a few other states, made promises he couldn’t keep and now it’s beginning to impact his deal with me.’
‘How?’ she asked, a little too eagerly.
‘His levies are crushing him, and he’s making threats about passing them on to me.’ He paused, his eyes narrowing on her. ‘How would you deal with this?’
