He turned his whole body to face her. “Yes.” He waved a hand at one of the chairs. “Won’t you sit down?”
“I’d prefer to wait until the Emir is available,” she demurred, dropping her gaze from his face.
“Sit down, Sheikha,” he spoke with a firm insistence.
“Where is he?”
“My cousin? His room is on the other side of the palace.”
Her cheeks flushed pink. “Do you mean to tell me you summoned me here? Pretending to be the sheikh to get me to your private quarter at this time of night?”
He dipped his head. “You were keen to have a resolution to matters.”
Her heart turned over. It couldn’t be good news, if this man had been given the task of ending things.
So what? She would go back to her normal life, and this whole debacle would be cleared up.
He moved with a panther like grace to a table in the corner. There was something so uniquely confident about his gait. She’d never known anyone like him. With every step he seemed to emanate courage and confidence.
He poured two glasses of wine into large goblets and handed one to her. Though she rarely drank, she took it gratefully.
“We believe your cousin was assassinated. There are factions in our country who do not wish for a union to exist between our two people.”
At the mention of Tashana, Sally’s throat began to burn with unshed tears. “I know.”
“That objection still exists. Despite the lasting good that might come from this marriage, it may well be dangerous. Are you certain that you would take up that responsibility? You are you
ng. It will be a duty that will define the rest of your life.”
She acknowledged with an unsteady tilt of her head. “My life is already defined by duty.” And though she had every reason to think ill of this man, she found herself confiding in him. “My childhood was far from normal. I grew up in London, but I didn’t really belong. I was never allowed to socialise with my school friends. Not properly. I was an outcast.” She sipped the wine for something to do. “I need a purpose.”
He leaned against the railing, wondering at this tiny woman who wanted to change the world.
“A purpose?” He let out a small laugh despite the seriousness of his mood. “Why not go to university, like anyone else your age?”
Her fingers toyed with the hem of her skirt. “Is that what you want?” How the question cost her! She felt an ache in her gut at the sudden realisation that this man was so against the union.
He crouched down on his powerful haunches, stretching his pants over the muscular expanse.
“What I want?” He probed, his dark eyes lightly teasing her.
She bit down on her lip. “We kissed.” She swallowed past her mortification. “And I’m going to marry your cousin. Won’t that be weird for you? When we get married? Him and me, I mean. Not you and me.”
His laugh, deep and rumbling, sent tiny darts down her spine. “No.”
She lifted a finger and hooked it around her hair. “I see.”
He laughed again. “I doubt that.”
“Is it just that I’m Medouzan? Is that why you disapprove of this?” She had to know. He would forever be the first man she’d ever kissed.
His mouth, still creased into a smile, slowly straightened. He put a hand on her knee, and goose bumps immediately broke out on her skin.
His voice was contemplative when he spoke. It was in such contrast to the arrogant, overbearing man she’d met earlier that day. “Do you see those trees over there?” He nodded towards a long line of pines. They were tall and dramatic. She’d noticed them the moment she’d arrived at the palace, for the way they formed such a strong border to the palace.
“I’m young, not blind,” she quipped.
His small smile was acknowledgement of her words. “They are very ancient.” His dark eyes flashed to her, to be certain she was listening. “They are cypress pines, planted almost five hundred years ago, when one of the ruling Sheikh’s wives died. Back then, our rulers had up to five wives at a time, but legend has it, this was his favourite. He mourned her for two long years, and at the end, had a line of Cypress pines planted in her honour.”