‘It wasn’t. That wasn’t the point the man wanted to make. He’s angry. There’s anger on both sides. We can’t deny people their right to feel those things.’
‘Nor should you suffer because of it,’ Malik said firmly.
‘I’m not suffering.’
‘But it—’
‘Stop!’ She looked at Amir but addressed Malik. ‘An inch is as good as a mile, right? It was a coffee. I believe it was a spontaneous act from a man who’s suffered through the war. That’s all. There’s no sense making a mountain out of it.’ Her PR mind was spinning over what had happened. ‘In fact, if anything, we should make light—include a visit to a coffee house in tomorrow’s schedule or something. Show that we have a sense of humour. And under no circumstances will I accept there being any consequences for this man.’ She glared at Amir.
‘But he—’
She interrupted Malik, waving a hand through the air so the collection of delicate bracelets she wore jangled prettily. ‘Yes, yes, he threw a warm coffee cup at me. My clothes will be ruined, and an embarrassing clip is now on the Internet, but so what? Do you know what will happen if we respond too strongly to this?’
Amir was leaning forward a little, captivated by her, wanting to hear what she said—aware that her perspective was one he needed to have.
‘We will make the thousands of people who feel that same anger in their hearts want to rise in defence of this poor man. Let’s treat his actions with kindness and compassion. No on
e will expect that, and it will make the forgiveness all the more powerful.’
Amir’s eyes drifted to the security guards. They were well trained, not looking at Johara or Amir, but he could see the shift in their faces, the obvious surprise and admiration.
‘Now calm down.’ She was speaking to her brother but her eyes were on Amir again, and he knew the words were meant for him, too. ‘Put your feelings aside, and your concerns for me. I’m fine. Let’s speak no more of this.’
‘It is unforgivable.’
Ahmed nodded. ‘I’m aware of this. I’ll have the police bring charges immediately; he should pay for this.’
Amir was tempted. So tempted. But Johara’s words and wisdom were impossible to ignore. He expelled a breath. ‘No.’ He frowned. ‘Have him brought to me here.’ Amir thought a moment longer. ‘I want to speak to him.’
‘To...speak to him?’
Amir flicked his gaze to Ahmed. ‘Her Highness has advocated mercy. I’m interested to see if the man deserves such kindness. Bring him here.’
‘Your parents were right.’
It was the first thing he said to her when she arrived at the forest, several hours later, a little after seven. They were the words he’d been aching to speak but couldn’t until they were alone. Instead, he’d gone back to ignoring her in the limousine, as befitted their perceived relationship.
He drew her towards him, clasping his hands behind her back, his eyes running over her features possessively.
‘About what?’ The question was breathless. He held her tight.
‘You have a gift with people.’
She lowered her lashes, as if embarrassed by the praise.
‘I mean it.’ He caught her chin, lifting her eyes to his. Something shifted through him, something powerful and elemental. He kissed her; he couldn’t help it. ‘Were you hurt?’
She shook her head. ‘It was just coffee.’
‘Hot coffee, and a plastic cup.’
‘Yes,’ she said, lifting her shoulders. And then, because it was just the two of them, and they were alone, he saw her mask drop, just a fraction. ‘I was surprised, and I suppose my feelings were hurt. I was too confident. Everything on this trip has been so easy to date. Your people have been overwhelmingly welcoming, given the circumstances...’
‘They’ve also been accusatory and frosty,’ he remarked, pulling away from her, taking her hand and guiding her deeper into the forest.
Her smile was enigmatic. ‘Well, yes, at times. But of course they see things from their perspective. Here, I’m the bad guy. In Taquul, that’s you.’ She lifted her shoulders. ‘It’s just a matter of perspective.’
‘More wisdom.’ He squeezed her hand. They moved quickly, both impatient to get to wherever they were going, to be alone.