Читать книгу Modern Romance Collection: May 2018 Books 5 - 8 - Кейт Хьюит - Страница 16

CHAPTER SEVEN

THEY LEFT FOR Rubyhan early the next morning. The sky was a pale, luminescent pink as Olivia climbed into the Jeep, gazing around at the harsh desert landscape transformed momentarily into softness and light as dawn broke over the dunes.

She’d spent four years in Abkar, on the edge of the desert, but she’d rarely ventured into its barren heart. If she wasn’t at the palace, then she was accompanying the Princess on various holidays, mostly to Europe or the Caribbean, playgrounds of the rich and royal.

Prince Zayed was an entirely different kind of royal, she mused as she watched him swing up into the Jeep, his muscles rippling with the graceful movement. He reminded her of some ancient warrior, proud and defiant and definitely dangerous. He wasn’t like the pampered aristos she’d seen on some of her travels with the royal family, partying it up, whinging about whatever they could. No, she couldn’t see Prince Zayed at some Monte Carlo night club. He was too raw and primal for that, and even now she was drawn to him.

Yesterday, as she’d helped the women and children, her gaze had been drawn to him again and again. Drawn to his powerful form, and also the way he spoke and listened, the intense responsibility he felt for his people, his country. She’d had the sudden, crazy thought that, when Prince Zayed did love a woman, it would be with that same blazing focus. It just wouldn’t be her.

Now his grey-green gaze caught and snared hers and Olivia looked away, afraid her thoughts would be written on her face. Why on earth was she thinking about whom he might love? Their one night together had awakened a longing inside her she’d managed to suppress until now. And she had to keep suppressing it. The last thing she wanted to do was feel something—something more—for Zayed.

She’d thought they would be taking the Jeep to Rubyhan, but after an hour’s travel they reached a helipad on a flat plain, the horizon stretching out to nowhere in every direction.

‘We’re going by helicopter?’ Olivia asked, even though she supposed it was obvious.

Zayed nodded. ‘Rubyhan is unreachable by any other means. It will take an hour by helicopter.’ Anything else he said was cut off by the whirring of blades as a helicopter appeared on the horizon, coming closer. Olivia put her hands over her ears as the sand kicked up and the military helicopter landed.

Zayed opened the door and held out his hand to help her climb up. She took it, conscious of the strength of his grip as he hoisted her inside. She buckled herself into one of the seats, feeling the surrealness of the situation all over again. How could she be in a helicopter in the middle of the desert with a prince? And yet she was.

Zayed climbed in after her, settling into the seat next to her, then his aide who had told him about the attack. The door closed and the craft lifted into the air, the desert dropping away beneath them.

Olivia craned her neck to look out of the window as they sped towards the horizon. From above the desert looked tranquil, the undulating dunes smooth and graceful, belying how rugged and dangerous the landscape truly could be.

After a little while a mountain range rose up in front of them, jagged peaks piercing the blue sky. The helicopter began to descend, the pilot navigating his way through the ferocious-looking peaks, making Olivia press back in her seat. Out of the window she could see snow-covered mountains adorned with shreds of cloud, almost close enough to touch.

And then the palace was in front of them, like something out of a fairy tale, its walls emerging from the rock as if they had been hewn from it, each one topped with a bright, domed minaret.

‘Wow.’ She breathed, and Zayed turned to her with a small smile.

‘It is impressive, is it not? Built six hundred years ago by my ancestor.’

‘I’ve never seen its equal.’

‘It is called the Palace of Clouds. Rubyhan is its formal name only.’

‘It is a palace of clouds,’ Olivia said with a little laugh. ‘I can’t believe how high we are. I saw snow.’

‘Yes, it will be far colder here,’ Zayed warned her.

‘How long will we be here?’

Zayed’s mouth thinned. ‘A few days only,’ he answered, and Olivia’s stomach did a little nervous flip. A few days...and then what?

After they landed Zayed escorted her into the palace; the interior was just as incredible as the outside: rooms with soaring windows and balconies that overlooked the stunning vista, the ground dropping away to nothing immediately beyond the walls.

‘You will stay in the former harem,’ he told her. ‘I think you will be very comfortable.’

The harem was a suite of rooms with every luxury to hand: a huge bedroom with a king-sized bed on its own dais; an en-suite bathroom with a sunken marble tub, an infinity shower and underfloor heating. A balcony extended from the bedroom, making Olivia feel as if she was walking on thin air. She could hardly believe all the luxuries found in such a remote place—it was even more sumptuous a palace than the one she knew in Abkar.

Zayed left her there, telling her to rest and relax, and after a few moments of uncertainty Olivia decided to take him at his word. It had been a harrowing few days, and she could certainly use the opportunity to relax, especially considering how rarely she did it.

Her days at the palace in Abkar were taken up with caring for the three young Princesses—teaching them English, keeping them in line, managing their lessons, their social calendars, their wardrobes. Olivia hardly took any holiday—she never needed to. Where would she go? Besides a godmother in Paris she saw every few years, she had no one in the world.

And if she lost her position in Abkar, which she was almost certain she would, she’d have nowhere to go. But she couldn’t think about that yet. She was going to take one day at a time, one hour if necessary, and right now she was going to revel in a lovely, long soak in the sunken tub, which was a far cry from the cool water of the oasis where she’d last washed, the bottom slimy with seaweed and mud.

She’d just got out of the bath, wrapping herself in the velvet-soft terry-cloth robe that had been hanging on the bathroom door, when there was a discreet knock on the door of the suite.

‘Miss Taylor?’ The voice was female and had a crisp English accent, which filled Olivia with relief. She’d been managing all right with Arabic, and Zayed’s English was flawless, but it would be nice to have someone else to converse with in the language of her birth.

‘Yes, just a moment.’ She opened the door to a young woman dressed in a business suit, her dark hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail. Olivia liked the look of her instinctively. ‘Hello.’

‘Hello, Miss Taylor.’

‘Please, call me Olivia.’

The woman smiled and nodded. ‘I’m Anna, Prince Zayed’s PA at Rubyhan. He’s asked me to make sure you have everything you need.’

‘Yes, it’s been rather amazing.’ Olivia let out a self-conscious laugh, aware she was in nothing but a dressing gown. ‘I just got out of the bath.’

‘And I hope you enjoyed it,’ Anna said smoothly. ‘Prince Zayed wishes your stay here to be as pleasant as possible.’

It sounded a little...formal. ‘Oh. Okay.’ Olivia tried for a smile. Zayed was being thoughtful for once; she should be pleased. So why did she feel uneasy, as if she was being managed? Dealt with?

‘So there is nothing you need?’ Anna pressed, and Olivia shook her head.

‘Then Prince Zayed asks that you join him for dinner in the Blue Room in an hour. Is that acceptable to you?’

Olivia tried to suppress the flutter of nerves and, yes, excitement she felt at the prospect. ‘Um, yes. Sure. Thank you.’

‘Good.’ Anna smiled. ‘I believe that the wardrobe in your suite should hold any clothes you might need, but please do alert me if you require anything further.’ She handed Olivia a pager. ‘If you push that button, I’ll be here in less than five minutes.’

‘Oh. Wow.’ Olivia had never experienced such service before. She’d never experienced anything like this before. It really was out of this world. Out of her world.

‘I’ll leave you to it, then,’ Anna said with a smile. ‘When you’re ready for dinner, press the pager and I’ll escort you to the Blue Room.’

‘Okay. Thanks.’

Anna left her alone and, feeling a mix of curiosity and trepidation, Olivia opened the louvre doors of the huge built-in wardrobe. A row of blouses, skirts and dresses in every imaginable shade and fabric greeted and amazed her.

She ran her finger along the garments, touching the sumptuous fabrics, from cotton and linen to silk and satin. Beneath the dresses were shoes of every description—high heels and sandals, court shoes and plimsolls. They all looked incredibly expensive. Olivia slid open one of the drawers built into the wardrobe and nearly gasped at the delicate garments laid out there—lingerie sets in shades of ivory and beige, scalloped with lace and as thin as gossamer. Why on earth did Zayed have all these women’s clothes here? How had he got them here so quickly?

She spent an enjoyable half hour trying on different outfits, from the evening gowns to the day dresses, knowing she wouldn’t dare to wear anything too extravagant or sexy. She finally settled on a simply cut sheath in royal-blue linen, pairing it with a pair of taupe court shoes. Simple, safe clothes that were still more expensive and elegant than anything she’d ever worn before.

It felt strange, to be dressed so nicely, waiting to have dinner with a man she barely knew, yet who she’d known more than any other man in her life. Strange, and more than a little bit exciting.

‘There is absolutely no reason to be looking forward to this,’ Olivia told her reflection as she put on the minimum of make-up—the bathroom came equipped with a dazzling array of cosmetics and toiletries. ‘No reason at all. Prince Zayed no doubt just wants to talk to you about dissolving this marriage.’

The reminder was timely and squelched some of that nervy excitement. This was a business meeting, and one she certainly shouldn’t be looking forward to.

Taking a deep breath, she pressed the pager. Minutes later, as promised, Anna appeared at her door and led her down several corridors with mosaic floors and Moorish arches to a room on the ground floor of the palace. She opened the door and stepped aside so Olivia could enter, which she did with her heart starting to jump around in her chest.

But she needn’t have been so nervous, because the room, stunning as it was, was empty. Anna closed the doors softly behind her and Olivia looked around, taking in the pillars decorated with lapis lazuli and the gold leaf on the walls and ceiling. In the centre of the room a table for two had been set with linen and crystal and flickered with candlelight. It looked rather romantic, Olivia couldn’t help but think.

Then the doors opened and Zayed stood there, freshly showered and shaven, dressed in western-fashion trousers and a matching charcoal-grey button-down shirt open at the throat. His eyes shone like pieces of agate as his gaze surveyed her. He looked absolutely devastating, and Olivia couldn’t form so much as a word as she stood there like a rabbit in a snare.

Zayed closed the doors behind him with a soft click and came forward. ‘Hello, Olivia,’ he said.

* * *

Zayed watched the pulse flutter and leap in Olivia’s throat as he walked towards her. He was reminded of their wedding night, when he’d seen how nervous she was and he’d tried to relax her. Tonight was different, though. Yes, he was trying to make her comfortable after everything she’d endured, but he had no intention of seducing her...as tempting as that prospect seemed at the moment.

‘Everything in your suite was to your satisfaction?’ he asked.

‘Yes.’ Olivia cleared her throat and gave him a nervous smile. ‘It was all amazing, thank you.’

‘I’m glad.’ He pulled out her chair and she sat down, bending her head so he could see the nape of her neck, and just as before he was struck by the tender vulnerability of it. Struck in a way he did not wish to be.

‘It’s incredible, all the luxuries here,’ Olivia continued as Zayed moved around to sit opposite her. ‘The bath...the underfloor heating...the clothes...’ She shook her head, marvelling. ‘How did you get so many clothes here so quickly, and most of them in my size?’

Zayed hesitated a second too long, and realisation darkened Olivia’s eyes to a deep navy. ‘Oh, how stupid of me,’ she said with an uneven little laugh. ‘They were here already, weren’t they? For Princess Halina.’

Her perception was razor-sharp and Zayed couldn’t deny it. ‘I was intending to bring her here afterwards,’ he said. ‘A honeymoon of sorts.’

‘How lovely.’ Olivia reached for her napkin and spread it in her lap, her head bent so he couldn’t see her expression.

Annoyance and something deeper stabbed through him. He had been looking forward to this evening, even though it would have its expedient uses, of course. Now, right at the beginning, it felt spoiled somehow, which was absurd. Halina would still be his wife. She had to be. And Olivia’s perception provided a timely reminder.

‘I hope you were able to relax and enjoy yourself.’

‘I was, thank you.’ She sounded cool, and Zayed gritted his teeth. He wasn’t even sure why he was so irritated.

‘Have some wine,’ he said, and reached for the bottle chilling in a silver bucket. Olivia lifted her gaze to his, a slightly teasing look lightening the blue of her eyes, reminding him of the sea.

‘I didn’t think you experienced all this luxury in your exile,’ she confessed as he filled her glass. ‘I thought you lived in a tent pretty much all the time.’

‘Mostly I do. But Rubyhan is my official base and the seat of my government.’

‘So Anna works for your government?’

‘She is my personal assistant, but yes, I have a small staff living here permanently arranging correspondence, managing affairs. Although I am in exile, I am still the globally recognised leader of Kalidar. It is Malouf who is the rebel, the impostor.’ A familiar pressure started in his chest.

‘I know that,’ Olivia said quietly. She took a sip of her wine, her lashes lowered. ‘It must be very difficult to be fighting for so long.’

‘I want the fighting to be over.’ The ache in his chest intensified and came out in his voice. ‘I want innocent people to suffer no more.’

‘And your marriage to Princess Halina will help accomplish that,’ Olivia finished softly.

‘Yes.’ He paused, feeling the need suddenly to explain to her why he was so committed. ‘For ten years Fakhir Malouf has lived in my home and taken my place. But worse than that, far worse, he has implemented policies and laws that go against everything my father taught me as a ruler—justice and mercy, kindness and equality. Kalidar was one of the most forward-thinking nations in this region, and now it is one of the least, all thanks to Malouf.’

‘But why doesn’t someone intervene—another government?’

Zayed’s fingers clenched around the stem of his wine glass and he forced himself to relax. ‘We are a small if wealthy country, and no one has wanted to risk getting involved. Malouf had the support of a certain section of the military, and it gave him more clout, even if no one was willing to recognise him officially.’

‘So for ten years you have been living on the fringes,’ Olivia said with a little shake of her head. ‘It’s so terribly unfair.’

‘It is an injustice I will make right, even if it costs me my life. Nothing else matters.’ He held her gaze, willing her to understand. He couldn’t let himself care about her finer feelings.

‘I understand,’ Olivia said softly, and Zayed let out a low breath, accepting her response.

He leaned back in his chair, wanting to recapture some of the enjoyment of the evening. He was sitting with a beautiful woman in candlelight, drinking smooth, velvety wine. Nothing could happen between them, for both their sakes, but they could still have a pleasant time together.

‘So tell me about yourself, Olivia,’ he invited as a member of his staff slipped into the room quietly to serve them the first course of lamb sambousek with fresh cucumber sauce.

‘Tell you...?’ Olivia looked startled. ‘There is not much to know, I’m afraid.’

‘That can’t be true.’ Zayed realised he was curious about her. ‘You said you had been working for the royal family since you were seventeen?’

‘Eighteen. Right after I finished school.’

‘You went to boarding school?’

‘Yes, in Switzerland. My father moved around a great deal and he wanted me to have a stable education.’

‘Did you enjoy it?’

She shrugged. ‘It was a finishing school for aristocrats and princesses, and I was a minor diplomat’s daughter, a nobody. I was there on a scholarship,’ she explained. ‘And of course everyone knew it, since I didn’t fly in by helicopter, or wear designer clothes on the weekends, or keep my own pony.’ She let out a small laugh that sounded just a bit too sad. ‘Halina was my best friend,’ Olivia continued. ‘She took me under her wing, made sure other people didn’t tease me.’ But not being teased, Zayed acknowledged silently, wasn’t the same as being liked.

‘That was very kind of her.’

‘Yes, it was. She’s a very giving person.’ She took a quick breath, looking up at him uncertainly. ‘I hope things are able to work out between you.’

‘So do I.’ Yet it felt odd in a way he couldn’t elucidate to talk about Halina as his wife. He didn’t want to talk about Halina right now, didn’t even want to think about her. Not with Olivia sitting across from him and looking so very lovely. If that was an act of betrayal, so be it.

‘This letter,’ Olivia said slowly. ‘What exactly do you want me to say in it?’

He didn’t want to talk about the letter now, either. ‘There is time for that tomorrow,’ he said swiftly. ‘Why don’t we eat?’

Olivia nodded and took a small bite of the sambousek, fragrant with cinnamon and mint. ‘Delicious,’ she murmured. ‘Better than any I’ve tasted before.’

‘Tell me about your duties in Abkar,’ Zayed suggested. He wanted to know more about her, although he knew there was no real reason to. ‘You take care of the three younger Princesses?’ He didn’t know their names.

‘Yes, Saddah, Maarit and Aisha. They are twelve, ten and eight.’

‘And what do you do?’

‘Everything,’ Olivia answered with a small smile. ‘I’m meant to teach them English, but I also look after their belongings and arrange their lessons and social events. They are quite busy girls. Dancing, riding, tennis... Saddah will go to boarding school, the same one I went to, next year.’

She lapsed into silence, her face drawn into sorrowful lines that made Zayed lean forward and touch her hand. ‘What is it? Why do you look sad suddenly?’

She refocused on him with a wry smile that was still touched with sadness. ‘I’ll miss them, that’s all.’

‘But you can return to the palace in Abkar when all this is over,’ Zayed insisted. ‘I will make sure of it.’

‘I am not sure you will be able to arrange such a thing,’ Olivia answered quietly. ‘Sultan Hassan has entrusted me with the care of his precious daughters. I’m meant to be an example of womanhood to them—quiet, submissive, modest womanhood.’ Her lips twisted. ‘No matter how discreetly things are managed, word will get back to him and to them that...’ She gestured between them with one slender hand. ‘I have compromised myself.’

Zayed’s mouth thinned into a hard line. ‘And in the letter, we can explain that it was not your fault.’

‘And have you take the blame? That would jeopardise your marriage negotiations, surely?’

Yes, it would. Zayed stared at her in frustration, disliking how he’d put her in such an untenable position. After the events of the last few days, he realised how unfounded his suspicions were.

Olivia was not a scheming gold-digger, trying to get the most out of this unfortunate arrangement. It would have been easier to maintain such a fiction, but he couldn’t, not when he’d seen her help the women and children at the camp; not when she’d shown so much concern for his welfare as well as that of his country.

‘Still,’ he persisted. ‘I will give you a handsome settlement. You will want for nothing.’

‘That is very generous of you, Prince Zayed.’ But she didn’t sound entirely pleased by the prospect, and he didn’t understand why.

‘You could travel,’ he continued, determined that she see some benefits. ‘Or start over. Work somewhere new.’

‘Yes.’ She laid down her fork, her appetite seemingly gone.

‘Does none of that appeal to you?’

‘It’s only...’ She sighed. ‘Abkar has been my home for four years, the only home I’ve ever really known. Sultan Hassan is my employer, I know, but he’s been kind to me, and more like a father than my own, who I barely knew. I’ll miss that.’

So not only had he robbed her of her innocence and livelihood, but he’d taken her family and home as well. Guilt corroded his insides like acid. There had to be some way he could make this right.