The truth taunted her and she shied away from it.
Ashraf—hiding her?
She recalled that first day. The limo avoiding the palace’s main entrance to use the back gate. Bram hurrying her inside—to avoid curious eyes? Bram telling her that this apartment was at the rear of the palace and quiet. She’d thought that considerate, but maybe it was because she and Oliver were an embarrassment.
It fitted with what Ashraf had said about prejudice. And with what Azia had hinted.
Bile was sour on Tori’s tongue as she swam to the poolside and levered herself out. She shivered and turned to grab her towel—only to see it being held out for her.
* * *
‘Ashraf!’
Tori’s voice was harsh, as if he was the last person she’d expected. No, it was more than that. She didn’t sound surprised as much as put out. As if she didn’twishto see him.
Impatience stirred. And a trickle of annoyance. He’d looked forward to the end of an interminable yet necessary meeting so he could enjoy a few hours with her. Didn’t he deserve a warmer welcome?
Tori should be used to his presence. Yet the pool’s underwater lights and the antique lanterns around the colonnaded courtyard revealed a face set in severe lines. And a body as arousing as ever.
Usually she smiled when he appeared, though it took her a while to relax fully. Ashraf had told himself that she needed time to adjust. But part of him—the part that had always taken for granted his ability to attract any woman he wanted—felt it like an insult.
He’d been patient. Beyond patient. He’d ignored his own needs to put hers and Oliver’s first.
Since his accession he’d put the needs of his people and his country before his own and he didn’t regret a second of it. But with Tori his altruism faltered when he looked into her wide blue eyes and felt the tug of desire in his loins. And when she stood before him in a skimpy scarlet bikini he had to pretend not to notice her sumptuous sexiness.
‘Sorry I’m late.’ The day had been difficult and he’d looked forward to her company. Clearly she didn’t feel the same. ‘I’ve already checked on Oliver. He’s fast asleep.’
Tori took the towel and hurriedly wound it round her body. Annoyance jagged him again. Didn’t she trust him? He had treated her as his honoured guest. He’d put no pressure on her for intimacy. He’d been scrupulous about giving her time and space to consider the arguments in favour of marriage.
For a man used to quick decisions and immediate follow-through his restraint had been remarkable. Yet did she appreciate it?
His mouth tightened. ‘Is something wrong?’
She tucked in the end of the towel firmly, as if daring it to slip.
Ashraf forced down his irritation. It would achieve nothing. ‘You’re frowning.’
‘Am I? No, nothing’s wrong.’
One stubborn woman resisted him. One woman whose fears he understood, which was why he’d held back rather than forcing the issue between them.
‘Shall we go in? Supper has been laid out inside.’ Hunger for food was one appetite hecouldsatisfy.
‘Not yet.’
Tori’s tone was over-loud, her words quick. Her jaw had firmed, the way it did when she argued and when she’d masked her fear during their abduction.
Ashraf’s frustration dissipated. How could he blame her for being cautious? She was facing such major changes.
‘I have a question,’ she said.
Maybe it was about what her life would be like in Za’daq. Pleased, Ashraf nodded. ‘Go on.’
Tori crossed her arms over her chest and fire kindled in her eyes. ‘Are youashamedof me and Oliver?’
‘Ashamed?’ The idea was outrageous.
‘Or just a little embarrassed?’