The woman was trouble.
Alexei straightened from the wall, circled around the sculpture that had caused this drama, and headed towards the light streaming from her suite. He needed to see how badly she was hurt.
* * *
Mina bit her lip and tried to stop shaking enough to tear open the box of sticking plasters she’d found in the bathroom. It dropped to the floor and she sagged against the wall, eyes closing.
She’d pick it up in a minute, when the shaking stopped.
She was so angry. But soon she’d be calm.
Except it wasn’t simply anger that made her tremble from head to foot. Mina wiped her uninjured hand across her cheeks, scrubbing away the fresh trails of wetness that had nothing to do with the sodden hair dripping down her face.
There was a blockage in her throat, hot and sour, making it hard to swallow. A ball of emotion that refused to go away.
Stupid. Thoughtless.
The words circled again and again. She didn’t know how to silence them.
Mina told herself she was in shock. The storm had been terrifying. When she’d started out to save the sculpture, the wind hadn’t been so bad and she’d been sure she’d have time. Then all hell had broken loose and she’d been stunned to realise danger was upon her, uponthem. It was her fault Alexei had been out there too.
What if he’d been hurt trying to save her?
Her mouth crumpled and a sob seared her clogged throat.
Mina shook her head. She didn’t cry. She never cried. Not even when her father died.
Stupid. Thoughtless.
She swallowed again and this time tasted tears.
The last time she’d seen her father they’d argued. She’d wanted to go to art school and he’d already enrolled her in university to major in economics. It was one of the rare times he’d lost his temper. Usually he was cool and distant. He expected his daughters to obey, to do whatever he expected, including acquiring appropriate qualifications to prove women in Jeirut could play a part in the country’s modernisation.
There was no room for an artist in the royal family. Mina’s value, like her sister Ghizlan’s, lay in beinguseful.
Their father’s focus was the country, not them. He’d never cuddled them or laughed with them. Never been close, let alone shown love. They were tools in his grand plans. Her mother had died when she was an infant so there was no one to argue on her behalf.
But at seventeen, Mina had believed she had a right to choose her career. Her father had put paid to that. He’d been brutally frank about her purpose in life. As a princess she’d be a model for Jeiruti women and have a key role in royal events. In time, she’d make a dynastic marriage to a man her father chose.
Mina was stupid, thoughtless and selfish to question his plans.
Two days later he’d dropped dead from a brain aneurism.
She’d never had a chance to mend the breach between them. She told herself it didn’t matter because her father hadn’t loved her, or she him. Yet regret lingered. Hearing those words again, whiplash sharp—
‘Carissa? Are you all right?’
Mina’s eyes popped open, horror enveloping her. She caught sight of herself in the mirror and groaned. Her eyes were pink and she couldn’t stop her mouth quivering.
‘Yes.’
The door rattled. ‘Why have you locked the door?’
Mina sank her teeth into her bottom lip. She didn’t need this. She didn’t have the energy to face Alexei. She needed time to marshal her defences.
‘Carissa?’
‘I want privacy. Is that too much to ask?’ Her shaking grew worse, not better. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold in the ache. And the cold. She felt so cold.