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She felt her heart squeeze in her chest. Not because Ra’if’s words had set off an emotional response in her, but because they reminded her of the sweet things Zamir hadn’t said to her. The sweet compliments he’d never paid her, because he hadn’t felt them.
More and more, Olivia had convinced herself that she’d fabricated the strength of her feelings for the foreign prince. How could she not believe herself to be a little bit in love with him? He was everything a fairy tale hero should be. Tall, dark, handsome; mysterious, sexy and rich, funny and smart. She could not have avoided falling in love with him for anything. Or at least, believing she had.
“Come on. You’re just trying to throw me off my game.”
He rolled his eyes. “You are also truly dreadful at taking praise.”
A knock sounded at the door. “Are you expecting someone?”
“It’s probably that horrible nurse coming to ask you more about the outback,” he did his best impersonation of an American accent and Olivia burst out laughing.
“That’s not kind,” she whispered, but she was still giggling when the door pushed inwards.
The amusement became a choke in her throat. The most beautiful amber eyes in the world, set in a face that radiated barely contained rage, were sweeping from Olivia to Ra’if.
“Zami,” Ra’if stood, apparently surprised but not affected at all by his brother’s arrival. “I wasn’t expecting you. I didn’t even know you were back in America.”
Zamir looked beyond his sibling, to the figure of Olivia Henderson, and his temper spiked. She was stricken to see him, and he knew he recognised guilt on her features. And he understood why. The cosy scene he’d interrupted was awkward, at best, to be observed by her former lover.
“So it is true?” He spoke in English, for her benefit.
“What is true?” Ra’if responded in kind. The smile on his face slipped a little.
“You and him?” He was speaking to Olivia. He pushed past Ra’if and stood over her, his hands in his pockets, his eyes burning into hers. He watched as she swallowed and her neck knotted visibly.
“Zamir,” Ra’if came up behind him, his voice holding a note of warning. “What is going on?”
A muscle in Zamir’s jaw clenched. “That is what I came here to ascertain.”
After the initial shock of seeing him, Olivia felt resentment take its place. “What’s the problem, Zamir? You seem angry, and yet you’ve no right to be.”
“No right?” He repeated incredulously. “You are here with my brother, and you think I have no right to be angry?”
“Absolutely,” she repeated, standing to her feet and glaring back at him. Zamir noticed then, for the first time, how much she’d changed. How slim she’d become, and how pale her skin was. Even her hair seemed to have lost its usual lustre.
Zamir spun around, his eyes encompassing his brother. “You know I have a history with this woman.”
Ra’if flicked his gaze to Olivia. The pain he saw in her eyes spawned compassion in his soul. “Olivia has been too discreet to discuss such things with me.” Ra’if moved to stand beside her, and his very presence was reassuring. “What I do know is that I care for her, and that I do not want you here if you have come only to upset and insult her.”
Zamir clenched his lips together. “You have actually moved on to my brother? Why? Was I wrong about you, Olivia? Are you just a woman who seeks a wealthy, powerful man in her bed?”
Tears sparkled in her eyes, but they were tears of anger. She took the two steps that were necessary to close the distance between them and then slapped him hard on the cheek. He lifted a palm and covered the stinging red mark. Olivia turned to Ra’if, her expression bleak.
“Do you mind if we take a raincheck on the game?”
“Of course not.” His expression was loaded with concern for this woman. “I’ll walk you to the door.”
“No.” She sent him an apologetic grimace. “I just want to get out of here.”
He nodded. He understood. “I’ll see you soon.” And Ra’if hoped, rather than knew, this would be the case. He wouldn’t blame her if she decided she wanted nothing more to do with the pair of them.
It was cold in the evening air, and Olivia fumbled the key in the ignition of the car. It dropped from the position and fell to the floor. “Damn it,” she groaned, cranking her door open and sending a panicked look back to the facility. All was quiet. She crouched down on the gravelled ground and felt around for the key. It was under the brake pedal. She pulled it out and stood, but banged her head hard against the steering wheel.
“Damn it!” She repeated, and took a deep breath as she rubbed the already-present egg on her skull. “Get a grip,” she muttered, the incantation reminding her of her mother, who had said it often.
She was still rubbing her head when he arrived.
Olivia knew he was there without even turning around.
