‘Come!’ Karim reached out, but before he could grab her arm he released a shocked cry of pain.
‘Oh, no, I’d forgotten.’ Eva grabbed the furry bundle that was attached by its teeth to Karim’s wrist and, tapping its nose, pushed it back into her pocket, where she assumed it had been asleep.
The rock-faced man did the spooky magician thing again and produced a clean white bandage and Karim began it wrap to around his wrist.
‘What is that thing in your pocket?’
Eva shook her head mutely. He looked pretty mad—considering the blood on the floor, possibly, she conceded, with some justification.
‘I take it you did not growl or bite me?’
Neither seemed such a bad idea to Eva. ‘You scared her,’ she said defensively. ‘She must have fallen asleep.’
‘What is it?’
‘A dog, obviously.’
Karim’s brows lifted. It looked like no dog he had ever seen. ‘It looked like a rodent.’
‘Why would I be carrying a rodent around in my pocket?’
He lifted his eyebrows and she flushed. ‘I told you I walk dogs, and I forgot she was there.’ She had delivered all but Sukie safely back to their owners when she had been plucked from the street.
‘Walk? The creature was in your pocket? Or does it get its exercise biting innocent passers-by?’
Her eyes skimmed his mouth. ‘You’re not innocent, and I only put her in my pocket when she’s tired.’ Frolicking around the park with a bunch of long-legged dogs tired out the little creature. ‘And it was raining. She’s not keen on water.’
Karim’s expression showed pretty clearly what he thought of a water-hating dog. He turned to Tariq, who had again anticipated his needs.
‘Zadik will look after the animal,’ he said, indicating a younger man who appeared slightly breathless beside them.
‘Hand it over, Eva.’
Eva’s mutinous expression revealed her reluctance to comply. ‘She’s a pedigree and worth a lot. You won’t—’
‘Eat it?’ Karim snapped. He imagined a long-distance runner with the winning line in sight might feel the way he did if the endline was constantly moving.
Unable to contain his impatience another second, he took matters into his own hands in the literal sense and, reaching into her pocket, removed the ball of fluff that growled low in its throat.
He handed it to the bowing younger man. ‘Dog has been off our menus for some years now. Enough of this … come …’ He extended his hand and, after a moment’s heart-thudding hesitation, Eva put her own into it.
Her feelings when his brown fingers closed over hers were disturbingly ambiguous.
Led down the corridors that were, as promised, totally empty, she was aware of the silent presence of several robed figures all sporting earpieces like Tariq and all looking ready for anything.
They stopped outside a door that looked no different from any other they had passed, and after opening it Tariq bowed and stood to one side to allow them to enter before him.
Eva, shaking her head, pulled her hand from Karim’s.
‘I can’t get married in a duffel coat.’ Even if it was a damage-limitation exercise more than a marriage.
Karim shot her a look that brimmed with impatience. ‘Then take it off.’ The advice just stopped short of a snarl.
‘Allow me, Princess.’
Eva turned, surprised to find herself directly addressed by Tariq, who, after bowing gently, eased the heavy coat off her shoulders.
‘Thank you,’ she said uncertainly.
Inside her head a voice was saying, Run … run … but her feet were moving in the wrong direction with the help of an encouraging smile from the older man and Karim’s firm hand in the small of her back.
Clutching her flowers, Eva heard the doors close with a click of finality behind her and felt a strange sense of calm wash over her. The calm lasted throughout the brief ceremony.
It was a feeling similar to being in a dream and knowing it and relaxing because you knew that it didn’t matter what happened because you were going to wake up.
It wasn’t until a few minutes later, when she was standing outside in the corridor with a ring on her finger and Karim totally ignoring her while he conversed in a mixture of French and Arabic to Tariq, that she realised she wasn’t going to wake up. This was real; she was married.
She had woken from a dream and found herself in the middle of a nightmare. The calm that had supported her vaporised and icy panic slid in to fill the space it left. It clogged her throat and filled her churning stomach.
What had she done?
‘Go with Tariq.’
Eva bit her trembling lip and tilted her face to his; the man she had married looked remote and stern.
‘But … you …?’
‘I need to be with Amira.’ Mentally, Eva realized, he already was; he was looking right through her.
‘Can I do anything … help …?’
‘You?’
Eva swallowed, trying hard not to show how much the rejection hurt. Her response was, she knew, irrational, but she had no control over it.
‘I just thought …’
‘If you want to help go with Tariq. He will take care of you.’ He nodded once more in her direction and strode away.
Eva watched the tall, elegant figure until he vanished from view. She turned her head and caught an expression of sympathy on the face of the man beside her.
The idea that she was an object of pity for members of Karim’s household filled her with horror. She immediately pinned on a cheery smile.
‘So what next?’
‘I will escort you to—’
Unable to maintain the pretence of listening, Eva, her voice tense, cut across him. ‘Is she very ill?’
There was a pause before Tariq, looking uncomfortable at being directly addressed, responded, ‘Yes, she is.’
‘And he … Prince Karim … he has spent a lot of time here?’
‘He has barely left her side.’
‘And that is where he is now?’
‘The doctors have been trying some experimental treatment. They will be able to tell the Prince today if it is working.’ He stopped and looked as though he regretted revealing so much, then, bowing his head, he gestured for her to precede him. ‘If you would come this way, the Prince has asked me to—’
Eva began to move, then stopped. ‘He’s alone—I mean, there’s no family or anything with him?’
‘No, he is alone.’
Eva narrowed her eyes and took a deep breath. ‘No.’ Smiling with a confidence she was not feeling—she was not in the habit of blindly following her instinct—she turned to face the tall, forbidding figure beside her.
She might be a wife in name only, but the thought of Karim facing what could be bad news … the worst news … alone just seemed so wrong.
It was totally irrational, but she felt she should be there. He might not want a shoulder to cry on, especially hers, but she’d be someone to yell at if nothing else.
‘Sorry,