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There was no fanfare to Raif’s return. The door opened quietly and he walked in equally quietly, his lean, strong face as stiff and furiously composed as it had been when he’d left her.
‘Was it bad news?’ she whispered, still crazily hoping that there had been some kind of melodrama that had got everybody hot and bothered by something that was in reality not as important as it initially seemed.
Raif glanced in her direction, but it was almost as if he didn’t really see her well enough to focus on her. She realised then that he was suffering from shock.
‘The very worst,’ he told her flatly.
‘Come and sit down,’ Claire urged, tugging his sleeve.
‘I can’t. The jet’s on standby at the airport. I have to fly out to Quristan immediately for...f-for,’ he stammered, ‘the funerals.’
‘You can still have a hot drink and a sandwich before you leave,’ she told him firmly.
Like a robot, he dropped down into the armchair closest to him. ‘My brothers were travelling through the mountains. As my father’s heirs, they are not supposed to travel in the same vehicle, but Kashif tells me that they routinely ignored his edict. There was an avalanche. The car and the security car behind it went off the road into a ravine. Hashir and Waleed, their driver and bodyguards are all dead,’ he told her in the same measured tone.
Claire dropped onto her knees by his side and reached for his hand. ‘I’m so very sorry,’ she muttered, fighting back tears, for even she had not imagined such a terrible tragedy.
Raif squeezed her hand and instantly withdrew his own. His dark eyes shone with tears. ‘I never really knew them. Over the years when I visited, I always told myself that there was time to get to know them, but now that future possibility has gone with them.’ Swallowing convulsively, Claire bowed her brow against his knee because she knew what those feelings could do to a person. All the years that she was growing up she had made herself believe that once she was an adult, she would manage to build a better relationship with her father, that he would like her more and understand her better once she was mature and settled into her career. Only she hadn’t got the chance either when her father had passed away quite suddenly. Disappointed hopes, things done and said or not done and said, all of it piled high on top of grief. Yes, she knew exactly what Raif was feeling and struggling to contain. And the worst fact of all in such situations was that there were rarely good memories to revisit as a consolation.
‘I must leave,’ Raif breathed abruptly, pushing himself upright again with force. ‘My father is in Intensive Care. He had a heart attack when he was told about the death of my brothers. I need to see him.’
‘Of course,’ she murmured, shaken by that final, additional blow.
She wanted to ask questions, loads of questions about wives and nieces and his father’s condition, but she swallowed all those enquiries back because Raif had quite enough on his plate to cope with. ‘Can I come with you?’
Raif froze, stunning dark golden eyes unreadable. ‘Best not. You can join me when all the formalities are complete but there would be little point in you accompanying me now.’
Two maids arrived to pack for him. His bodyguards hovered in the background. Claire approached Mohsin. ‘He hasn’t eaten anything. Please make sure he eats.’
‘Of course, Your Royal Highness.’
It was the first time she had been addressed by that title and it hugely disconcerted her. Paling, she blinked and stepped away, returning to the bedroom to supervise the packing. In truth, her assistance was not required but it made her feel a little less surplus to requirements.
In too brief a time, Raif was gone, momentarily clasping her to him stiffly, all too aware of their audience in the embassy foyer. ‘I’ll phone,’ he said prosaically.
‘We might as well have breakfast,’ Stella said brightly as Raif climbed into the waiting limo and it wended its way out of sight, demolishing, it felt like then, all Claire’s hopes and dreams. The guy she had married and begun to love was gone and she had never felt more alone or abandoned in her life. ‘It’s almost dawn. We should eat and then go to bed for a nap.’
All of a sudden, Claire was appreciating that Raif had somehow become all the brightness in her world and that was a frightening truth for a young woman who had once cherished her independence and her strength to manage her life alone.
Stella guided her into the dining room. ‘You’re in shock as well,’ she said gently. ‘Eat and then go back to bed.’
‘I’m fine. I just didn’t like Raif leaving alone to deal with this,’ Claire admitted stiffly.
‘He wouldn’t have a minute to spare you over the next few days. He’ll be much too busy,’ Stella explained. ‘I would imagine that’s why he chose not to take you with him.’
‘I thought he might want to let me meet his father,’ Claire whispered. ‘I appreciate it wouldn’t be ideal with him in a sick bedbut—’
Stella was staring at her with a frown. ‘Claire... King Jafri is unlikely to be alive this time tomorrow. It was a serious heart attack. The medics don’t think he’ll make it through—’
‘Does Raif know that?’
Stella nodded uncomfortably. ‘He should have told you.’
Claire dropped her head, the food on her plate untouched as she sipped doggedly at her tea. ‘That’s tragic news too,’ she whispered shakily. ‘He’s losing everyone.’
‘But not you. Try to eat. I appreciate that it’s difficult in your new position, but you need to keep up your strength for the days ahead.’
What new position?Claire blinked and studied her plate, her thoughts on her baby, and she lifted the knife and fork and managed to eat a morsel of egg and toast. Her tummy felt hollow and her brain was all at sea.
