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Nate frowned at Khaled. ‘You didn’t tell her we’d spoken?’
It was like a slap to her face. ‘You were talking to my stepbrother yesterday and you didn’t let me know last night, or at any point since? When you know how worried I’ve been?’
‘I wasn’t entirely convinced. I needed to check Nate’s story,’ Khaled said, not the least repentant.
She rounded on her stepbrother. ‘Why are you even friends with this man? He hasn’t an ounce of trust in his body.’
‘I’m a prince. I don’t have that luxury,’ Khaled said.
‘To be fair, Baby Sis,’ Nate added, ‘the evidence against me was pretty damning.’
‘Don’t you dare defend him. Do you know, while he’s parading me around as his pretend fiancée, he’s already promised himself to a foreign princess?’
She was ashamed now of her antics in front of the journalists. She’d meant to embarrass Khaled, not some poor woman who was apparently just as much a pawn in all this as she.
‘There was no need for you to know that. It would have only complicated matters,’ Khaled said coolly.
‘Too right. I would have said no.’ She glared at him. ‘Dragging me halfway round the world... Using me as bait... You really are the lowest kind of man.’
His jaw tightened. ‘I won’t tolerate your insolence in here.’
‘You don’t have to. I’m leaving. Take care, Nate, and stay in touch.’ She pecked him on the cheek.
‘Where are you going?’ Khaled demanded.
‘I thought I might look at engagement rings.’ She held out her left hand, waggling her naked ring finger. ‘I’m thinking something brash and showy that’s trying to look like a diamond but is actually fake.In other words, a big fat liar. Just like you.’ Lily glared at him. ‘Two fiancées at the same time? What a gallant way to treat women. Your mother and sisters must be so proud.’
Then she turned on her heel and headed for the door, leaving the handsome tyrant to stew.
CHAPTER TEN
THEBEACHTHATran beside the palace looked much like any other stretch of Nabhani shoreline. Except for the soldiers patrolling the perimeter and the steel-grey gunboat skimming the waves in the near distance.
This stretch of perfect ivory sand was reserved for the sole use of the royal family and its guests.
After Lily had stomped into the family room the Queen had diplomatically suggested her current guest might appreciate some time to herself there, beyond the dunes, where she wouldn’t be disturbed. In the late afternoon they benefitted from a cooling breeze, she’d told her, and in her opinion were rather restful.
Lily, too angry to be good company, had thought it an excellent suggestion. So now, in a bikini and a loose shirt, shaded by the brim of a sun hat, she sat beneath an umbrella in the lee of one of the larger dunes.
She still seethed about Khaled’s lies, and how he’d hidden from her the fact that Nate was safe. And jealousy was gnawing away at her, too, and she hated herself for it. Somewhere out there a young woman waited, destined to be Khaled’s bride, to share his bed, to know his touch.
Aisha might be in love with him. If her affections weren’t returned, would she be doomed to a half-life, dwindling away, yearning for the attentions of a man who would never put her first? Because he was a world leader, with hard choices to make and little room for softness of the heart?
Except Lily remembered a day when he’d been more than kind to her...
After her mother’s wake.
Khaled had been leaving, and as they’d crossed the hall on the way to his car he’d seen a pile of that day’s newspapers on a table in plain view. Her mother’s image had been splashed across every front page. In a rage he’d snatched them up and dumped every one of them in a wastebasket. Then he’d dropped to his haunches and begged her, on no account, to look at any of them. She’d promised him she wouldn’t and put her arms about his neck.
‘Good girl,’ he’d said, and squeezed her tight.
But later, when the house had been quiet, she’d crept downstairs and taken those newspapers into the library. She’d read every one and cried in hurt and humiliation. They’d published the worst photographs, the most shaming stories. Stories she’d never heard before.
How her mother had been fired from her last film for turning up hours late and forgetting her lines. How she’d been thrown off a flight, blind drunk, foul-mouthed and fighting with the security staff who had been attempting to keep her and the other passengers safe.
And, worst of all, how she’d neglected her only child.
But nobody knew that once, before her husband had chosen his career over them, and broken her heart, she’d sat with her daughter in the mornings, softly singing to her and brushing and untangling her hair with deft, gentle fingers.
