“A political figure’s wife, surely.”
“Make no mistake, as my emira and ultimately melecha of our country, you would have a political role, just as my mother does.”
“How am I supposed to train for something like that?”
“With the teachers who served me best.”
“You had tutors? I thought you went to boarding school in the States.”
He smiled, the expression impacting her like it always did. “I’m referring to my parents. Both have already agreed to do their best to help you learn your new role, should it become necessary.”
“I didn’t think having sex with you was signing me up for a new career.”
Sayed shrugged, his body shifting against hers. “Life is like that, full of curve balls, as one of my old professors was so fond of saying.”
“This is crazy. You know that, don’t you?”
“Difficult? Perhaps. Crazy? No.”
“Stop talking about it.” She wasn’t pregnant and all this talk of marriage was only going to make it harder to leave him.
She couldn’t afford dreams with so little substance.
“For now.” Sayed turned over, pushing her onto her back and proceeded to blow her mind. Again.
If his lovemaking seemed to be tinged with desperation, she figured maybe her own feelings were simply reflecting back on her.
* * *
Sayed stormed into his father’s office and threw the newspaper in his hand onto the king’s desk. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Once the story broke, there was nothing you could do.” His father flicked a glance at the image of Sayed and Liyah in a passionate lip-lock—and not the first one in three days to run in their country’s most widely circulated newspaper. “The only course of action left open was to wait and see how it was received.”
“Pictures of Aaliyah and I kissing were on the Net hours after we arrived at the retreat.”
“You did kiss her outside.”
“In our private gardens!”
“Not that private.” His father seemed a lot less angry than Sayed would have expected. “You know how dangerous a high-powered camera lens can be.”
“How did they know we even left the palace?”
“You know we have media watching us all the time.”
“Not this closely. Someone had to have leaked something.”
His father shrugged. “Perhaps. Our people love the Cinderella angle. Have you noticed? Omar said it’s all over the social media sites.”
“And your fixer did nothing to kibosh it?”
“On the internet? Not going to happen.”
“I doubt very sincerely the border countries looking for an alliance are nearly as caught up in the romance of it all,” Sayed fairly growled.
“You would be surprised.”
“What do you mean?”
“Apparently, none of them wanted us making such a firm alliance with the others. You marrying an outsider with no political agenda will actually work in our favor.”
“Who said anything about marriage?”
“Do you really think anything else will suffice after that?” His father pointed to the second photo in the story.
It was of Sayed and Aaliyah leaving the oasis tent, his arm around her, their expressions and manner clearly that of a couple who had just made love.
“What if she won’t agree?” Her reaction to Sayed bringing it up in response to her pregnancy had been a solid wall of negativity.
He hadn’t realized how much he needed her to want it until she’d made it clear she didn’t.
“You’ll have to convince her. From the look of things, it shouldn’t be that hard.”
“You have no idea.”
* * *
Liyah hung up with Dr. Batsmati, a tight band of disappointment squeezing her chest. They’d done a rush on the lab results.
He’d only drawn her blood a couple of hours ago. She wasn’t pregnant.
Pretty soon, she’d be leaving the palace.
And she’d never see Sayed again.
Pain ripped through her as she’d only felt once before. When her mother died.
The rejection of her Amari relatives and her father hadn’t been pleasant, but neither had caused this devastating depression to settle over her.
Even her mother’s death hadn’t made Liyah wonder if she would ever truly know joy again. Melodramatic?
Maybe, but she loved Sayed and she didn’t care if it made sense. It didn’t matter that she’d always thought it impossible to fall so deep so fast.
She’d done it and wasn’t sure if her heart was going to survive the blow of losing Sayed.
And yet the temptation to leave without seeing him again was strong.
Only, she wasn’t that person, the one who hid from the hard things in life. Hena Amari had set a better example than that.
Taking the time to change into a dark teal dishdasha Sayed had found particularly alluring, Liyah mentally prepared for the discussion to come.
She brushed her hair out until it shone and then draped the hijab over it loosely, framing her face to its best advantage.
Okay, so maybe she wanted Sayed to be at least a little sorry to say goodbye to her.
Opening the door, Liyah jumped back with a surprised squeak at the sight of Sayed there already, his fist raised to knock.
“Surely the sight of me is not such a shock,” he said with one of the smiles she’d started to think of as hers.
He never offered that particular expression to anyone else that she’d noticed. And Liyah had been looking.
“You know this is the harem. You aren’t supposed to be here.”
“I am emir.”
“And you still have to maintain traditions. What, is there some kind of secret passage you use, or something?” She really didn’t think Sayed walked by the door guard without a qualm.
Dark color slashed Sayed’s cheeks above his closely cropped beard. “Yes, in fact, there is.”
“What? Really? Where? Show me.” She was perfectly willing to be sidetracked from the discussion they had to have.
He laughed and shook his head. “You are pretty irresistible when you’re all enthusiastic.”
“So, show me.”
“After we talk.”
All anticipation drained away and she turned from him. “Dr. Batsmati called you, too. I thought he would.”
“Actually, I haven’t spoken to the good doctor.” Sayed’s gaze probed hers, stripping her bare if he but knew it. “Is this rather depressed appearance because he told you there was no baby, or that you are pregnant?”
“I’m not depressed,” she lied.
“Uh-huh.”
She flopped down onto the settee, no longer concerned with presenting the best image of the “one that got away” and equally uncaring about the secrets