She yanked herself from the black abyss of her past and shook her head. ‘No. I’m not...’ She stumbled to a halt, her mind reeling at what he’d demanded of her.
‘It was your wish to speak now, instead of in the morning when you would have had some sleep. It’s not too late to take that option if it’ll help you be less confused.’
His faint mocking tone sparked heat in her cheeks. ‘I’m not confused, just...’ She stopped again and took a breath. ‘Well, for starters, I have no clue how your social care system works.’
He paced closer. She had to tilt her head to meet his gaze. The sensation of being small in his presence registered once again. ‘The basics of social care are the same no matter where you are in the world,’ he said.
She couldn’t disagree. ‘Okay, but there are other things to consider.’
‘Such as?’
‘The language barrier, for one thing.’
‘Children are taught English alongside their Arabic lessons. Every citizen in Ja’ahr speaks English. Communication won’t be a problem.’
Esme couldn’t deny that everywhere she’d been since her arrival, she’d been met with impeccably spoken English. ‘I’m only here for a month. To support my father. Everything else would be secondary to that. What good would that do anyone? And even if that weren’t an issue, where would I live?’
‘Here in the palace,’ he responded in a low, deep voice.
‘With you?’
An inscrutable look fleeted across his face, gone too quickly for her to catch, but it didn’t stop another tingle of awareness from stinging her skin.
‘Under my roof,’ he clarified. ‘Under my protection.’
The tiny catch of her breath somewhere in her midriff told her she was affording far too much importance to his words. Dozens of people lived in the Royal Palace. She would be one of many. Nothing special.
‘As to how long you intend to be here,’ he continued, ‘if you’d taken time to do a little more research, you would’ve found out that a month wouldn’t be anywhere near an accurate timescale to give yourself.’
‘That was all I was entitled to.’
‘Then an extension will need to be obtained from your employer if you truly intend to be here for your father for the entirety of the legal proceedings. I can request it from Touch Global on your behalf, if you wish. Or you can see to it yourself. Either way, the only thing that’ll happen in the next four weeks is the setting of your father’s trial date hearing.’
She should have waited till morning to discuss this but, then, how much deeper would he have probed and strategised?
Esme frowned. ‘It takes a whole month to obtain a trial date? I thought you were pushing for an expedited trial?’
‘Yes, and that won’t be for six months at the earliest.’
Shock punched the breath from her lungs. ‘Six months?’
‘Yes. Were I to request a normal trial, he would be looking at two years in jail before his case was even heard.’
Her eyes widened. ‘You have that many untried people languishing in your prisons?’ She cringed the moment the guileless words left her lips.
His head jerked back anyway, his eyes growing a touch colder. ‘I believe I’ve already mentioned the ways in which change comes. The pursuit of zero tolerance accountability also has its unique challenges.’
Esme bit her lip, and judged it wise to choose her battles. ‘I’m...sorry, I didn’t mean to criticise the way you run your country. Your Highness.’
She caught another gleam in his eyes at her use of his title a second before his lashes swept low and concealed his expression, but his answer to her response was to stroll past her to the conference table. As she watched, he pressed a button on a futuristic-looking gadget sitting on the polished surface and issued fast, lyrical Arabic before he turned back to her.
‘My staff will escort you to your suite. We will speak again in the morning when you are better rested.’ The dismissal was final.
‘But I need—’
He gave a single, implacable shake of his head, his jet-black hair gleaming beneath the soft lit chandelier. ‘I have other matters to attend to, Miss Scott.’
A glance at the grand antique clock proudly displayed on his wall showed it was almost three a.m. ‘At this time of night?’