That fact was not up for debate. “If you are finished delving into my private life, you may take your leave immediately.”
“Actually, I’m not quite finished. Did it disturb you that Rima was not a virgin when you wed her?”
Adan’s audacity made Rafiq’s blood boil. “Why would you assume this?”
“Are you denying it?”
Unfortunately, he could not. Yet he did question how Adan would know something so personal about Rima. He was tempted to ask, but he in turn feared the answer. “This topic is not up for discussion.”
“I only wanted to point out that Rima was not destined for sainthood,” Adan said. “Neither are you. In fact, you’re human, and a man with needs.”
The reason behind his brother’s insinuation finally dawned on Rafiq. “If you are worried I will bring scandal upon the Mehdi name by sleeping with Maysa, I assure you that will not happen. And if you are also hoping that I will abandon my duty and pass the crown to you, as Zain did with me, you may set those wishes aside immediately.”
Adan’s expression turned suddenly serious. “I have never possessed any desire to be king, Rafiq. And as far as your relationship with Maysa is concerned, I am an advocate for letting nature take its course. If you and Maysa find you cannot resist each other, then don’t. You certainly have my blessing.”
Adan had failed to weigh the most important fact. If Rafiq took Maysa as his lover again, the liaison could only be temporary since he would be expected to choose a suitable queen. The thought of being with another woman aside from Maysa was unthinkable. The thought of wounding her again, unimaginable. Yet he could very well head down that path if he acted on impulse.
For that reason, perhaps he should consider canceling their arrangement. Perhaps it would be best if he found another location for his sabbatical. “I will take your counsel under advisement. Now if you do not mind, I have work to complete.”
“So much work, il mio bel ragazzo, that you cannot give your former governess a few moments?”
Rafiq turned his attention from Adan to Elena Battelli, who now stood at the doorway, a dark-haired infant balanced on her hip. Her silver hair contrasted with her topaz eyes that at times hinted at mischief, and other times reflected wisdom. She had been the Mehdi sons’ surrogate matriarch since their mother’s death, and always a welcome presence. She had also been free with her opinions, and he expected no less from her now.
Rafiq came to his feet, rounded the desk and accepted her embrace. “I am glad to see you have returned home, Elena. You are looking quite well.”
“You are looking tired, cara,” she said as she handed the baby off to an overtly surprised Adan. “Take your niece to her father and allow me some time alone with your brother.”
Rising from the chair, Adan gripped the child awkwardly and looked as if he had consumed something unpalatable. “What if she begins to cry on the way?”
Elena frowned. “She would not be the first female you’ve made cry, so I suggest you hurry.”
As soon as Adan left with the squirming infant, Rafiq seated himself behind the desk while Elena claimed the chair opposite his. She studied him for a long moment before she spoke. “What is this I hear about you spending time with Dr. Barad?”
He should not be surprised Elena would join his brothers by presenting her thoughts on the matter. Yet her opinion had always mattered most. He also suspected she would side with Zain. “It is not what you might believe it to be.”
“I believe, cara mia, it is a good idea.”
He had not predicted that reaction. “I am beginning to question the wisdom in the plan.”
“Because you fear what others might think?”
Because he feared his possible absence of strength in Maysa’s presence. “I do not wish to add undue stress to her life.”
Elena waved a hand in dismissal. “Maysa is well equipped to handle stress, Rafiq, and perhaps even better equipped to handle you.”
He was taken aback by her assertions. “What are you saying?”
“I am saying she knows you very well.” Elena laid a palm on his hand. “She has always been your touchstone, and I believe you need that right now, more than you need the throne. And if you are concerned that you might succumb to inadvisable urges, I trust you to be the honorable man you have always been.”
If only he could trust himself. “Then you sincerely believe I should continue with my plans?”
“Yes, I do.” She rose with the grace of a gazelle. “Do not forget what I’ve taught you. Chi trova un amico trova un tesoro.”
He who finds a friend, finds a treasure.
As Elena started toward the door, she sent Rafiq a smile over one shoulder. “Maysa is your treasure, cara. Do not squander that gift.”
* * *
Maysa had begun to believe Rafiq had changed his mind. When the doorbell chimed, she hurried down the hall to answer the summons but then slowed her steps so as not to seem too anxious, though she was. Yet when she opened the door, the bearded man on the threshold happened to be her brother, not the king. “What are you doing here, Shamil?”
“I expected a more enthusiastic greeting, considering my recent absence,” he said as he breezed past her and entered without an invitation.
“My apologies,” she said as she faced him in the foyer. “I’m just surprised to see you.”
“Were you expecting someone else?”
She chose to withhold the truth and settled for a change in subject. “Are the resort’s renovations complete?”
“No, and that is why I am here now,” he said. “I will be returning to Yemen tonight, and I would respectfully request you supervise the workers from time to time in my stead.”
The request did not surprise her in the least. Shamil always seemed to have an ulterior motive when he bothered to call on her. He had protested the loudest over her divorce, and had chastised her at every turn—until he wanted something. “I have a medical practice that requires my attention, Shamil. I do not have time to oversee a project that you took on.”
“Need I remind you the resort is partially your responsibility?”
She could not believe his audacity. “Our father handed the keys to the resort to you, not me.”
“And he handed this house to you,” he said as he made a sweeping gesture over the area. “All because he is a generous and forgiving man. I would be remiss if I did not mention that he initially arranged for the hotel’s restoration. I am certain it would please him if he knew you were assisting me. He would not be pleased if he learned you refused to provide that assistance.”
Maysa was beyond trying to please her father, and immune to Shamil’s veiled threats. “I can only promise that I will stop by once a week, provided I find the time.”
“Twice a week, or perhaps three times, would be preferable.”
She would agree to most anything if it encouraged her sibling’s speedy departure. “I will try. Is that all you wish from me?”
“For the moment. I will notify the staff you will be periodically stopping by.”
“All right.”
When Maysa moved toward the door and yanked it open, she heard the sound of a car pulling into the portico.
“What is he doing here?” Shamil asked, both his tone and expression balanced on the brink of contempt.
She