‘What have you missed, Annalisa?’ His voice had lost its accusatory edge. It sounded almost regretful.
She shook her head. Tahir wouldn’t understand. The man she’d shared so much with in the desert was no more. She couldn’t bring him back, no matter how she wished it.
‘Annalisa.’ He moved close, stepping into her line of sight. ‘I’m—’
‘There you are, my dears.’ At the sound of Rihana’s voice Annalisa blinked furiously and pasted on a shaky smile. She turned to find her hostess bearing down upon them. The dowager Queen smiled, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes.
Annalisa’s heart sank. Did Rihana think she’d caused the disturbance?
‘You mustn’t monopolise our guest,’ she scolded.
To Annalisa’s surprise the older woman slipped her hand through Annalisa’s arm and turned to face Tahir. A look passed between mother and son that she couldn’t decipher, but she felt tension hum in the air.
‘Especially,’ Rihana continued, ‘when you’re the centre of attention. Whatever you have to say can be said in private. Our family has already provided enough gossip.’ Her smile belied the steel in her tone.
Astonished, Annalisa realised the Queen was warning her son off. She was protecting Annalisa from Tahir.
Annalisa felt a surge of gratitude. How would she react when she realised the true situation between Annalisa and Tahir? Annalisa dreaded to think.
‘As always, Mother, you’re right.’ Tahir sketched an elegant bow, then turned to Annalisa. ‘As you said, this is neither the time nor the place.’ He paused. ‘We’ll finish our conversation later.’
With a smile that would have fooled most people into believing he was in high good humour, Tahir left them.
Annalisa exhaled shakily, torn between relief and regret that they parted on such terms.
Rihana patted her hand. ‘I hope you can forgive Tahir. He hasn’t yet learned patience. He’s been getting his own way for too long.’ She turned, and Annalisa was struck by the sadness in her eyes. ‘But it wasn’t always that way. And the shame of it is he never got the one thing he wanted above all. The one thing that really counted. All the rest meant nothing.’
What was it? That one thing Tahir wanted most? Annalisa needed to know—to understand the man who stirred such strong, conflicting emotions in her.
For a moment she thought she saw a glimmer of tears in the other woman’s eyes. But it must have been an illusion, for now Rihana was perfectly poised. She patted Annalisa’s hand again.
‘If you give him time I know you’ll find him…’ she paused ‘…worth the effort.’
When Annalisa went to her room later a tall shadow detached itself from an alcove near her door.
Though she’d expected him, her pulse jittered nervously as she followed Tahir. His silence in the empty passageways and the set of his broad shoulders increased her awareness of him as a man, powerful and potentially dangerous.
They emerged into the garden where he’d announced they’d marry. Had he chosen it deliberately? She twisted her hands together, her nerves close to shredding. Moonlight on the bay gave the scene a romantic feel. Or would have if she didn’t recall Tahir’s words stripping her to the bone.
She ignored his invitation to sit.
Silvery light threw one side of his face into shadow, emphasising the strong lines and aristocratic planes of his face. And the grim set of his mouth.
Annalisa stood straight, ready to counter more accusations.
‘Your mother thought I’d enjoy meeting your guests tonight, and I did.’ She refused to apologise. It wasn’t she who’d created a scene.
‘As for the gown…’ She plucked nervously at the exquisite outfit she’d adored from the moment Rihana had produced it. ‘Your mother kindly provided it because I didn’t have anything suitable. Of course I won’t keep it.’ She refused to be accused of mercenary ways.
‘My mother has taken a shine to you.’ His voice revealed nothing.
Annalisa shrugged. ‘She’s lovely. And so lively, so interesting.’ She watched one sleek black eyebrow climb. Did he doubt her sincerity?
‘She’s been very kind to me.’ It emerged as a challenge.
‘I can see that.’ He surveyed her from head to toe and heat sizzled through her at his leisurely inspection. He had the lazy air of a pasha inspecting a new slave.
She stiffened, crossing her arms.
‘There’s no need to justify yourself,’ he murmured. ‘Of course you’ll keep the dress.’ He raised a silencing hand when she opened her mouth to protest. ‘And you were welcome at the reception.’