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Zahir.
My chest clutches when confronted with the image he makes – so regal and hyper-masculine in a white robe, his eyes glittering when I meet them.
“Good morning.”
I have to swallow to bring moisture back to a bone-dry mouth. “Zahir. What are you doing here?”
“May I come in?”
I stiffen my spine and nod slowly. “Fine. But I don’t have long. I’ve made plans for the day.” Being able to say that brings a rush of pleasure. My independence is something I must guard fiercely.
The entrance to my suite is grand and marbled; just beyond it there’s a sitting room. I gesture to the sofas, but stay standing, bracing myself for his proximity with every bone in my body.
Southern manners are ingrained. “Would you like a coffee?”
He doesn’t respond at first, his eyes simply stalk my face as though there’s an answer to an equation buried in my features. My cheeks grow warm beneath the intensity of his stare and I hate that. Such a small and involuntary gesture, yet so betraying.
“No coffee.” His eyes narrow; heat spreads through my entire body. “Aliya informs me you wish to go out?”
I expel an angry breath. “I should have known she’d come tattling to you.”
He frowns. “Tattling?”
“Dobbing. Reporting my every move.” I roll my eyes, stalking across the room simply to use up some of my angry energy.
“This is her job.”
“To keep tabs on me?” Outrage fires my blood.
“At times, yes. Did you honestly think you could leave the palace without my knowledge?”
“Your permission, you mean?”
I spin around in time to see his head dipping in agreement. Our eyes meet and it’s as though flame has been ignited between us.
“What do you want me to say, Amy? Our marriage is less than two weeks old, you are a stranger in my kingdom, and my palace, and with a lot of mistrust between my people and you. So, yes. There is a period of adjustment as staff work out how to treat you.”
“So you’re saying the restrictions are temporary? I’m on some kind of excursion probation? That once I’ve proved to you and the world I’m not here to make trouble I’ll be allowed to do something as simple as go out on my own?”
“Not on your own,” he corrects.
My eyes narrow.
“You are my Emira,” he reminds me darkly. “A Queen, with power and money most people can only imagine.”
“And yet I can’t even organise a car for myself,” I contradict. “That doesn’t feel so powerful.”
“You’re being deliberately difficult.”
I shake my head. “On the contrary, Zahir. I’m doing everything you asked of me. I’m not making trouble, am I? I’m keeping to myself, not bothering you or anyone. This was a simple request. I have cabin fever, and just want to get out and explore.”
“Where exactly did you plan on going?”
The question stumps me. I spin away from him, hoping he won’t recognise the consternation on my features. “Anywhere.”
Silence.
I risk a glance at him to find his expression not at all what I expected. “Fine,” he nods. “Then let’s go.”
