“You know what I mean,” I demur. “Home. Away. Not here.”
His eyes lance mine, and then he nods, once. “Wait a moment.” Again his hand reaches the small of my back. He guides me towards the doors at the side, where he says something to a guard. He speaks into his wrist and just like that the music stops.
“I would like to thank you all for attending. Our friendship is important, our alliance long and guided by a mutual desire for peace and economic stability and nights like this remind us of our common interests and respect. Good night.”
The room applauds, and bows, but Zahir tuns quickly, ushering me through the doors and into the hallway.
“You didn’t have to leave as well,” I say with consternation. “I could have just slipped out.”
“Amy, you’re not just a guest, a footnote. You’re the guest of honour. It’s not possible for you to ‘slip out’.”
I stare at him, surprised by that characterisation, but deciding it’s not worth arguing about. “Okay, fine. Well, I told Aliya I’d leave after dinner so I’m sure my driver’s waiting.” I step back from him. “Good night.”
He glares at me, something like anger in his eyes now. “You don’t have to go right away.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because you just got here.”
“I’ve been here hours,” I say with a shake of my head.
“But I have barely spoken to you.”
My heart lurches. He’s acting as though that matters to him. Maybe it does. Maybe he wants to know if I’ve seen dad, or spoken to him. Maybe this is part of his security requirements.
“I don’t know anything about dad. I haven’t spoken to him since I left.”
He stares at me in surprise. “I’m sorry to hear that. But why are you mentioning it now?”
“In case that’s what you want to talk to me about. If you think I can give you any intel on him, I can’t. I don’t know any
thing.”
He swears under his breath. “Come with me.”
This time, it is most definitely a command, not a question. He looks at me for several seconds, and when I don’t respond, he steps forward and lifts me up, carrying me cradled against his chest as though I’m incapable of walking. I’m so shocked I don’t say anything for at least ten seconds, and by then we’ve exited the more public corridors of the palace and are in a hallway that leads to his office.
“What the hell are you doing?” I wriggle against him in an attempt to free myself but he only tightens his grip, holding me in a vice now, and the more I move, the tighter his hold is. Desire bursts through me, a need stirred by his strength, dominance, closeness, physical proximity making me aware of him as a man in a thousand ways.
“Put me down,” I grunt as he strides into his office and kicks the door shut. On the other side, in complete privacy, he does just that, and oh, how I regret it. I miss him instantly; my body is cold, my heart heavy. I’m a mess. Nothing makes sense, and no decision I make leads to an easing of my pain.
“Are you seriously going to kidnap me to get me to stay?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
I can’t tell if he’s joking or not.
“What more do you want from me? I did what you asked, didn’t I? I came here, I acted like your happy wife, I danced with you for the photographers. Doesn’t that tick all your boxes?”
“The dance was nothing to do with the photographers and I’m sure you know that.”
“Then what was it?”
“You don’t think that after four and a half weeks apart from you I might have wanted to find any excuse I could to touch you like that? To hold you close to me?”
I gasp, because it’s so close to my own feelings, yet I hadn’t expected it.
“I don’t care about the damned photographers. I would have been much happier if there had been nobody to witness that dance, nobody to interrupt. I wanted only you, Amy.”