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Minutes later, and Gadi stood beside Salah next to the limousine while waiting for the sheikh to come out of the palace. All appointments of the day had been canceled while event organizers had been informed of Sheikh Rayyan’s imminent arrival.
“I told you so.” Gadi nudged his companion on the side with a smug smile. “You all thought he wouldn’t come after her, but I knew she was different.”
“Nem, nem.” The chauffeur’s tone was sarcastic. “You’ve been saying it over and over for the past five minutes. It’s unlikely I’d forget. But even so—-” A stubborn look settled on the older man’s face. “I’m still not convinced the girl’s the one to bring him to heel.”
But she’s his future bride, Gadi wanted to protest. Who else could bring the sheikh to heel except the one he had sworn to marry?
Salah shook his head at the mutinous look on the young man’s face. “I know you think I’m being a cynic, fata. But I’m just being realistic. The girl’s too young for him. There’s every possibility she could be a mere passing fancy—-” The chauffeur snapped his mouth shut when he saw their employer looming behind Gadi, and the younger man, seeing Salah’s eyes widen, gulped, knowing right away what it meant.
Allah save him!
What if the sheikh had heard them?
Rayyan raised a brow. “Well?”
With that one word, the two men hastily sprang into action, with Gadi bowing and apologizing profusely while Salah rushed to open the door for the sheikh.
Inside the car, both men were tense and silent, backs barely touching their seats, and their gazes directed straight ahead. At the back of the car, the sheikh’s face was similarly inscrutable, but behind the impassive mask was mounting frustration and discomfort. Just as the two suspected, Rayyan had heard every word his employees had spoken, and if either man had the balls to ask the sheikh what the girl meant to him –
He had no goddamn idea what to say, and that was the fucking truth.
Over a month had passed since the last time they had seen each other. A bank visit, and she had looked particularly lovely that day – her hair had these large curls at the tips that almost seemed too sinful because they made a man want to thread his fingers through it....
Funny how easily he could recall such things about a girl who, for all intents and purposes, should be a passing fancy to him.
But was that really all she was?
Since that day, the distance between them had appeared to grow overnight. The things she usually said as a muttered aside had completely stopped, and she didn’t even look at him in the eye every time he addressed her.
Nem, alshaykh. La, alshaykh.
That was all she said in his presence, and that was only in the rare times he had caught her in the office. The weekly reports Gadi sent him about her performance revealed Hyacinth volunteering to do fieldwork.
Anything to avoid seeing him, he thought broodingly.
And if he were being rational about this, he should simply let things continue as they were. All this had started as a whim. A twist of fate even, considering the colossal size of the palace’s maze of tunnels. And yet, somehow, both of them happened upon each other within its secret walls.
Majestic colors of the kingdom’s famous desert landscape streamed past the windows as the limousine continued in its journey, but Rayyan remained completely blind to it, his thoughts unwillingly bound to a seventeen-year-old girl.
Let this go.
That was what logic dictated.
And yet, the words of command to have his chauffeur drive him back to the palace refused to leave Rayyan’s lips.
If he hadn’t known of Hyacinth’s absence from work, perhaps he could have remained in denial. Perhaps. But now that he knew, the truth had become irrefutable, and it forced him to acknowledge what he had been doing his best to deny.
He...missed her.
Rayyan closed his eyes.
He...missed her, and that was not fucking good.
He missed her, and he was afraid that if Hyacinth knew, she would read something into what could never be.
Event officials were on hand when Rayyan arrived at the venue, a vast landscaped rock garden at the back of Ramil’s largest art museum. Photos were taken, a short interview took place, and an hour overall had passed by the time the sheikh was free from his official duties.
And now, he could concentrate on the one person who had made him act out of character and cancel all sixteen appointments he had scheduled for the day.
His gaze swept the crowd, the sheikh absently noting how most of the men in the party were staring at one of the female guests, sitting alone at one of the cocktail tables by the fountain. She had her back to him, but something about her was strangely familiar.
