The wariness encroached again. ‘Yes.’
‘It won’t come as a surprise to you that I did my homework on your father. He has been...active in a number of countries for a while now. Unless you were left in the care of others, I assume you were with him?’
Her laugh was a little strained. ‘What is this, an interrogation? I thought you were no longer my father’s prosecutor ?’
‘You fault me for wishing to know better the woman who will be working for me?’ Perhaps his tactics were unfair. Perhaps he needed to leave the subject alone. But, seeing her drag her lower lip between her teeth as she weighed up his question, Zaid felt that insanely strong urge to destroy her defences once more. He wanted to know her, wanted to find out what made her strong and wary and bold and vulnerable.
‘I guess not.’ He watched her consider her words carefully before responding. ‘No, I wasn’t left the in the care of others. I was in boarding school during term time, then I got a chance to see the world during school holidays with my father. It was a great adventure.’
The glossy veneer she tried to throw on her childhood sent a pulse of anger through him. ‘If it was all so great, why have you been estranged from your father for the past eight years?’
He saw the shock his question brought. Then her stunning eyes narrowed. ‘This feels awfully like an interrogation.’
‘Perhaps you were ashamed of the man he was and wished to distance yourself from him?’ he pressed.
‘Or have you considered the possibility that we just came to a time in our lives where we needed to go our separate ways? Like most children do when they come of age, I wanted to spread my wings. I wanted a...career, so I returned home to England.’
She was lying. Or at the very least not telling the whole truth. Zaid frowned at the pang of unnerving disquiet at the revelation and wondered at it. He’d stopped being surprised by the actions of others a long time ago.
So why this woman’s half-truths should disturb him so deeply, why it should tap into a well of disappointment he’d thought had dried up a long time ago, surprised him. Enough to make him quicken his footsteps towards her suite.
‘Zaid...um... Your Highness?’
He whirled back, her reversion to using his title just one more irritant in the giant cluster of irritants she represented in his life.
He watched her stumble back from him and clawed back his control. ‘What is it?’ he asked.
In the lamplit softness of the corridor, her face was both enthralling and wary, although she held his gaze boldly. ‘I... I think I can find my way from here.’
He checked out his surroundings, noted they were a few corridors away from where she slept. ‘I’ll see you to your door,’ he stated imperiously, then resumed walking.
She walked by his side in silence for the rest of the way. When they reached her suite, he pushed the double doors open.
Aisha and Nashwa turned at their entrance. At the sight of their Sultan both women dropped into low curtsies with softly lyrical greetings.
Zaid responded, and moments later both women were rushing away. When the doors closed behind them, Esme glanced at him.
‘I know women in Ja’ahr aren’t
chaperoned as strictly as in other countries, but should I have been consulted as to whether I want to be gossiped about for having the Sultan in my bedroom at this time of night?’
‘They will be back shortly. Had I harboured other motives, I would’ve dismissed them for the night,’ he said, heat rising in his groin as thoughts of just such a scenario embedded themselves in his mind.
A blush crept into her cheeks. Zaid wanted to trace the creamy pink skin with his fingers. The memory of its softness bit into him with a savage hunger still puzzling to him.
‘So what are your motives, besides triggering tongues to start wagging about me?’
‘Tongues will not wag about you in that way. In Ja’ahr, a woman isn’t punished for desiring a man, neither is she expected to have a chaperone guarding her virtue, unless she requests it. Women’s rights are respected, and they are free to champion their own integrity once they come of age.’
‘I’m pleased to hear that.’
‘Good, so no one will condemn you for entertaining me in your suite.’
She inhaled sharply. ‘But I’m not entertaining you here. And you could’ve said goodnight to me at the door.’
Her forthright manner, unlike everyone else who treated him deferentially, made the blood thrum faster through his veins. ‘Perhaps it’s that captivation I spoke about that keeps me here. Perhaps I wish to mark you as mine despite...’
Her eyes rounded, her breath growing visibly short. ‘Despite?’