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She wouldn’t be intimidated by him. Though it was patently obvious he was employing a cold tone of voice in order to dissuade her line of questioning, Olivia was not so easily put off. After all, he’d invited her to entertain him. How could that be anything other than a two way street?
“You’re next in line to one of the most powerful royal families in the world.”
He placed his tea down and stood, walking slowly to the enormous windows and staring down at the strip beneath. What Olivia didn’t say were the questions that peppered her mind.
The same questions that had been printed in the tabloids several months earlier, when Sultan Faisal of Dashan had enacted a law that bypassed his older son Ra’if as heir to the throne, and put the honour onto the shoulders of Zamir instead. Olivia was no expert in international politics, but she’d done a background check of Sheikh Zamir before undertaking this assignment. And there it had been. Headlines that spoke of a dramatic family rift and a sibling rivalry that had resulted in the ousting of the natural born heir.
“True.” It was a single word, spoken so long after her statement that she’d almost forgotten what she’d asked of him. “You know, I suppose, that I was not born to carry this title.”
His shoulders were broad and his waist tapered. Beneath the clothes he wore, she could see that he was firmly muscled and innately powerful. She swallowed and looked away. The zing of attraction was unwelcome.
“Yes,” she said simply.
Zamir didn’t visibly react and Olivia understood. It was a difficult conversation for him. “I am not close to my brother, as you are your sisters.”
She dipped her head forward as a concession. “Sibling relationships can be difficult.”
He spun around and studied her thoughtfully. “Yes. Some more than others.” He moved back towards her and sat down once more. “You said you are close to your sisters, though.”
“Yes.” Her smile was laced with irony. “But that’s not always been the case.”
“Do you have a lover, Olivia?”
Her eyes flew wide in her startled face and her breath caught in her throat. She coughed and spluttered, then lifted a hand to cover her mouth, all the while her big green eyes accosted him for his impertinent question.
“That is seriously not your business,” she said, finally, when able to speak.
“I am paying a lot of money to make it my business.”
“No. You are paying me to facilitate your life; not to reveal the finer details of mine.”
“Are you so ashamed of this man that you will not discuss him?”
Her eyes sparked with a heated emotion; and Zamir was charged with an answering emotion.
“Nothing about my personal life has anything to do with you.”
“I asked because you will not be seeing him for the time I am here. I wondered how he might cope.”
She stood up and began to place the teacups back on the tray, her mouth set in a resolute slash.
“Leave it.” His words were softly spoken but firm as cement. “That is not your job.”
“Nor is making you tea or sitting with you and being interrogated about my personal life,” she remarked waspishly.
And Zamir found himself having to hide a smile despite his frustrations. “You surprise me.”
“Yeah? Really? You haven’t met many women who tell you to butt out?”
“No,” he agreed with a soft laugh. And it was a dangerous sound, because it sent something off in her gut. A vibration of desire that she recognised and would have, in an alternate universe, have loved to indulge. He stood and curled his hands around the tray. “I told you to leave this.”
Olivia ignored the pounding of her heart; the flushing of her pulse and the burning in her abdomen. She released the tray and took a step backwards. “I trust you’ve been entertained sufficiently for this evening?”
He considered asking her to stay.
He considered telling her to stay.
But he did not.
