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The King had walked into his rooms just after dark, asking why his son wouldn’t be joining them, brushing aside Khaled’s protests and declaring that if the Crown Prince failed to take at least occasional time off he’d also be having heart attacks.
He’d slapped his son jovially on the back, but Khaled had seen the flicker of pain in his father’s eyes. It never sat well with the King that he could shoulder so few of his responsibilities, and that his son was being forced to deal with them in his stead.
If it eased his father’s sense of guilt, he’d give up a few hours. Guilt, Khaled understood. It was the thing that drove him.
Now, an hour after everyone else, he climbed the stairs to the rooftop restaurant. He saw her at once. Standing alone at the edge of the terrace, looking out over of the old city. The hem of her dress fluttered in the evening breeze. Her hair fell in loose waves down her back.
She looked like a girl, he thought, with an ache in his chest, and yet not. She was a woman, and everything they’d done in the car that afternoon only confirmed it.
No matter. There’d be no repeat of that.
Something caught her eye in the street below and she smiled a sweet, sad smile.
The ache deepened.
Then, on the other side of the terrace, unaware of Khaled’s arrival, a man rose to his feet, his gaze fixed on Lily.
George Hyde-Wallace.
It took seconds. And done before he even knew he meant to do it. But suddenly Khaled was at her side and the other man was sinking back down, forgotten, into the shadows.
When Eleanor had said they’d be dining at a favourite restaurant in the old city, Lily had expected some grand establishment. Not this magical roof garden dotted with brass lanterns, where the royal party reclined on rugs and cushions, serving themselves from copper platters, with the restaurant owner and his family sitting amongst them and everyone gossiping like old friends.
Lily watched it all with a quiet, bittersweet delight. So this was how it felt to have family...to belong.
Her gaze roamed again over the cluster of groups. Only one man was missing.
Khaled had been noticeable by his absence when the whole family—even George and an off-duty Rais—had piled into the fleet of cars waiting on the palace forecourt. She’d chided herself for the stab of disappointment. After today’s incidents, surely the less she saw of him the better.
Needing a moment to herself, she’d risen from the cushions and moved to the edge of the terrace. In the street below a couple emerged from one of the homes. Their tiny daughter, her hands clasped safely in theirs, toddled between them. With a wistful smile Lily watched the doting parents guide the little girl safely across the street.
Had there’d ever been a moment when her parents had walked with her like that? Keeping her safe...the centre of their lives?
‘My father claims that from this restaurant you can see the four corners of the world.’
Lily whirled round at the sound of Khaled’s voice.
He stood a few paces away.
‘It’s a bold statement,’ he continued, ‘but I think he means the four corners of Nabhan. To him, of course, it’s all the same thing.’
He was watching her with a warmth and intensity that rendered her quite speechless.
He stepped closer.
‘Let me show you.’ He stretched out his arm beside her shoulder, pointing to the open plain beyond the edge of the suburbs. ‘To the north you can see the beginnings of the marshlands.’ The moon had risen and its gleam was reflected in a distant patchwork of streams and tidal flats. ‘It’s recently been designated a conservation area. It has a rare and sadly endangered collection of flora and fauna. In fact, I’ve just launched a charity to support it...’
The corner of his mouth lifted in the ghost of a smile, and she knew he was teasing her. She’d come apart in his arms this afternoon and she’d vowed not to let him under her defences her again. But how was she supposed to resist this charm?
His hands settled on her shoulders. He turned her so she looked over the heads of the gathered party and across the flat rooftops of the old city to the harbour and the ocean beyond. That simple contact raced through her body. To places she’d really rather it didn’t.
She focused hard on the view before her. In the marina the lights of luxury yachts and pleasure cruisers sparkled, while out at sea giant tankers rode at anchor.
‘For centuries merchants sent their ships from here, loaded with frankincense and pearls and purebred Arabian horses,’ he said. ‘They went east to India and China. The trade made the city wealthy. Now those tankers provide a different source of wealth. No less vital to our people, but perhaps not as romantic.’
The sultry evening breeze, laden with the scent of spice and the salt tang of the ocean, tugged lightly at her dress. From a terrace nearby came the strains of a slow, sweet melody.
He turned her again, and the gap between them closed. She felt the solid wall of his chest against her back. ‘And to the south?’ she asked breathlessly.
