Kat looked to where he was indicating, to see Jasmine and the golf buggy nearby.
Zafir stepped back. ‘I’ll come to your rooms for you at six.’
Kat wanted to cling to his robes and demand of him, Where are we now? What did last night mean?
She watched him walk away and chastised herself. Last night had just been a last slaking of lust. No doubt now that the end was in sight Zafir was already casting his mind ahead to the future and lining up suitable candidates to be his Queen.
Kat shoved down the rise of a very uncharacteristic bitterness and forced a smile as she greeted a serious-looking Jasmine, who was unusually quiet on their way back to the suite. Kat surmised that the news had obviously spread like wildfire.
When they got to her rooms Jasmine looked at Kat with big eyes and asked hesitantly, ‘Is it really true, Miss Winters?’
Kat took a deep breath and nodded. Then she sat down and pulled up her kaftan, showing the young girl her leg.
Jasmine sank down at Kat’s feet. When she looked up at Kat her eyes were brimming over with tears, and for the first time since her accident Kat felt a sense of liberation bubble up inside her as she reached out and wiped Jasmine’s tears.
‘It’s not that bad, really,’ she said with a wry smile. ‘Here, let me show you...’
* * *
That evening, Kat paced back and forth unevenly across her suite. In spite of her bravado earlier, her nerves were intensifying with every moment at the thought that when she was presented tonight everyone would know.
Jasmine melted away discreetly when Zafir appeared at the entrance to her main reception room. Kat stopped pacing and looked at him, her nerves dissolving for a moment as she took him in, resplendent in cream and gold robes, every inch the powerful and impressive King of his country.
His grey eyes raked her up and down. ‘You look beautiful.’
Kat felt ridiculously shy and half shrugged. ‘Jasmine liked this dress the best.’
It was a long traditional Jandori kaftan, with deceptively simple flowing lines and a V-neck that showed off the diamond she was already wearing. Noor had delivered it shortly before. Over the kaftan she wore a long sleeveless robe inlaid with gold embroidery.
She noticed then that she and Zafir were almost matching, as her kaftan was a similar colour to his. For a second her rogue imagination wondered if this was close to what the bride of Zafir would wear on her wedding day.
It took her a second to realise that Zafir had spoken and she hadn’t even heard him. Mortified, she said, ‘I’m sorry, what did you say?’
She noticed then that he appeared less than his usual composed self.
He ran a hand through his hair and looked at her. ‘There’s something I need to tell you. I was going to wait until later, but...’
Kat went cold inside. ‘What is it?’
He was grim. ‘It’s something I discovered this afternoon—a couple of things, actually.’
Kat wasn’t sure why, but she felt she needed to sit down on a nearby chair. ‘What things?’
Zafir started to pace back and forth, exactly where Kat had just been. He stopped and said abruptly, ‘My father was the one who leaked those pictures and the story of your background to the press.’
Kat went very still. Zafir’s father’s cold features came back into her mind’s eye. She stood up again. ‘I know he didn’t approve of me... But how...? Where did he find the pictures?’
Zafir was pacing again, energy crackling around him like a forcefield. ‘He hired investigators to look into your past. They found the photographer and paid him a lot of money to hand over some of the photos.’ He stopped again and looked stricken. ‘I’m sorry, Kat. I had no idea... If I’d known...’
Kat walked blindly over to another chair, and clutched the back of it. Faintly, she said, ‘You couldn’t have known.’
She looked at Zafir and tried to push down the feeling of betrayal, even though it hadn’t had anything to do with him. She’d known his parents hadn’t liked her, but to go that far was hurtful in the extreme.
‘It’s not relevant now, anyway. What’s done is done...your father is dead.’
‘There’s something else too.’
Kat’s hand tigh