Not after all he’d done to her.
Tamir had every intention of confessing the truth to Olivia, but the sight of her washed that resolve away immediately. When he stepped back into his study, she was sitting at his desk, her head in her hands, her face so impossibly forlorn, that he knew he was not powerful enough.
Letting her go would require the strength of a kingdom, and he was simply a King. No. He couldn’t let her go. Instead, he had to convince her to stay.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice uneven. “If I had known the importance of that fountain…”
“Don’t,” he shook his head slowly, and moved to her. “Don’t apologise, Olivia. I brought you here and left you to find your way without an ounce of my assistance. This is my fault.”
She frowned, forming a little furrow between her eyes. “Your fault? I wasn’t aware you knew you could be in the wrong.” Her attempt at humour fell flat.
Tamir’s eyes were drawn to her elbow. Gently, he pulled her to him. “I’ve neglected you this week. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” She shook her head. “I know you’re busy.”
“Damn it, Olivia. Stop being so understanding.” His voice was heavy with contempt. “I have done nothing but order you around since we met, and still you give me the benefit of the doubt. It must stop. Just accept my apology and allow me to attempt to make amends.” He lifted his eyes to the clock on the wall. “I have a meeting now. But I will come to you in an hour. Be ready.”
“Ready?” She asked quietly. “What for?”
He smiled, and because he couldn’t resist, he kissed the tip of her nose. “A surprise.”
She lifted her hand, to touch her nose, to feel his kiss perhaps, and the glistening of her diamond wedding ring caught his eye. It mocked him, and it accused him for the lie he was continuing to perpetuate. He had said he wanted to make amends, and yet he continued to lie to her.
Telling himself it was the best possible course of action, he watched her leave, and ignored his own doubts.
For the first time in his life, Tamir was afraid. Afraid of losing something he hadn’t even realised he needed. His marriage had arisen out of necessity, and then, his marriage had become necessary.
He could not let it go.
* * *
Saf looked at his friend closely. “You’re not well.”
Tamir was surprised by the observation. He ran a hand through his hair without removing his eyes from the view of his golf course. “Nonsense. When am I ever ill?”
“Fine then. You’re preoccupied.”
Tamir let out a rueful sigh. “You know me well, brother.”
“Dare I ask? Marriage troubles?”
Tamir’s eyes flashed with anger. “Not of the sort your wife gleefully anticipates.”
“She was your sister before she was my wife,” Saf interjected with a shrug of his shoulders. He lifted his iced tea and sipped it thoughtfully. “And she will come around, eventually.”
Tamir didn’t react at first. His eyes were drawn to a piece of white linen, flapping in the breeze. “I don’t much care if she does, or does not. Olivia is…” He had been about to say ‘my wife’. But he pulled himself up short. For she was not. He had intended her to be, and yet Kalil had defied him. “Olivia is not the problem,” he finished grimly.
“You have been married a week. You are not regretting the hasty decision?”
“Only certain aspects of it,” Tamir responded with a shake of his head. “Not my choice of bride.”
“And Olivia?” Saf asked, watching his friend curiously. “She has forgiven you?”
“Forgiven me?” Tamir dragged his eyes to Saf’s face in surprise. “You think she is angry with me?”
Saf laughed. “Your sister has me well trained in the ways of a woman’s emotions. Yes. I would say she is very angry with you.” He softened his voice. “I would also say she’s partly in love with you, so you must have handled something well.”
“I didn’t,” Tamir groaned, turning his dark eyes back to the golf course. The piece of fabric was stuck on something. A flag, perhaps. Or a tree. He squinted, and watched as yet another desert wind caught its edge and lifted it high over the concourse. It flapped desperately and wildly but still it was trapped.