Safiyah said something and the maid moved towards the boy as if to scoop him up.
‘No. Don’t take him away.’ Karim turned to Safiyah. ‘Don’t cut short his playtime because of me.’
It was time for him to meet the boy. Karim had agreed to be a father to him. The idea still elicited a confusing mixture of feelings and he’d berated himself more than once for acting as if on a whim where Tarek was concerned.
But it was no whim. The thought of the little Prince at the mercy of a ruthless man like Shakroun had struck a chord with Karim. He’d had to act. Nor could he rip the child’s birthright away. Just as he hadn’t been able to take the crown of Za’daq over Ashraf, though he’d been brought up solely for that purpose.
Besides, Karim knew what it was like growing up with the burden of royalty. The child needed a role model—one who understood that there was more to life than court protocol and politics. Karim would be that mentor.
An inner voice whispered that he hadn’t been such a good mentor to his younger brother…hadn’t been able to protect him from his father’s ire or bring much joy into his world. He vowed to do a better job with Tarek.
Safiyah rose in one graceful movement. Her long dress of deep amethyst slid with a whisper around that delectable body and Karim cursed his hyper-awareness of her. It had been like that since they’d arrived in Assara. No, since that kiss in Switzerland, that had left him fighting to mask his urgent arousal.
Karim drew a slow breath and forced himself to admit the truth. He’d been attuned to her from the moment she’d turned up in his hotel suite. She still had the power to unsettle him.
Safiyah murmured something to the maid, who melted back down the path.
‘How kind of you to visit.’
Safiyah clasped her hands at her waist and inclined her head—the gracious Queen greeting a visitor. Except this visitor was the man who was about to save her country and her son. And he was going to become far more to her than a polite stranger, no matter how hard she pretended indifference.
Satisfaction banished his jab of annoyance at her condescension. Soon there’d be no pretence of them being strangers.
‘The pleasure is all mine.’
He let his voice deepen caressingly. Her eyes rounded and he smothered a smile. Oh, yes. He was looking forward to a much closer relationship with Safiyah. Her attempts to keep him at a distance only fired his anticipation.
‘I thought I’d take a ride, but discovered the stables empty.’
‘My husband wasn’t a rider.’
Karim watched her refold her hands, one over the other. Her mouth flattened, disguising those lush lips. Curiosity stirred. His nape prickled with the certainty that he’d hit on a subject she didn’t want to discuss. Which made Karim determined to discover why.
Was her reaction a response to him or to the mention of her dead husband?
‘But you are.’
He wasn’t sure why he pressed the point, except that it was sensible to know the woman he was about to marry.
She lifted her shoulders but the gesture was too stiff to be called a shrug. ‘I was.’
Karim lifted one eyebrow questioningly.
‘I don’t ride any more.’
The words were clipped and cool, but he sensed something beneath them. Something that wasn’t as calm as the image she projected.
He waited, letting the silence draw out. Concern niggled. Had she had a bad fall? Had she been seriously injured? It would take a lot to keep the woman he’d once known away from her beloved horses.
Finally, with a tiny exhalation that sounded like a huff of exasperation, she spoke. ‘Abbas didn’t ride and he preferred that I didn’t either.’
‘Why?’
Karim shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his feet, reinforcing the fact that he had plenty of time. Especially as he sensed Safiyah was reluctant to explain.
Equestrian prowess was a traditional part of a warrior’s skills. It was unusual to find a ruler who didn’t ride—especially as Assarans were proud of their fabled reputation as horsemen. The country was world-renowned for the horses it bred in the wide fertile valley along its northern border.
Safiyah darted a glance at the little boy and the puppy, now playing a lolloping game of chase. Was she checking they were okay or whether her son was listening?