Commanded by the sheikh

‘Thank you,’ she murmured, and the two women smiled and nodded, clearly pleased with their effort.

Malik was waiting outside her bedroom when she opened the door. ‘Good morning, Miss Ellis. May I escort you to Sheikh Aziz?’

She nodded and followed him through the maze of the palace to a pleasant room at the back. The French windows were thrown open and a table had been set for two on a private terrace overlooking the palace gardens. Aziz rose from the table as she approached.

‘I hope you don’t mind eating outside. It’s early enough not to be hot.’

‘It’s lovely,’ she said. The air felt fresh and the view of the terraced gardens, lush and green, even though Siyad was in the middle of a desert, was beautiful.

‘Coffee?’ Aziz asked with a glinting smile as he proffered the little brass pot.

Olivia gave a little grimace. ‘I admire your tenacity in getting used to it. I suppose I should do the same.’ Too late she realised that she’d made it sound as if she intended to stay in Kadar. She reached for her napkin and laid it in her lap. ‘Are the pilot and plane ready to return me to Paris?’

‘Yes, as soon as you are.’

Again she felt that mingled rush of relief and disappointment. ‘Good. Thank you.’

‘It is I who should be thanking you,’ Aziz answered. ‘You have helped me immeasurably, Olivia.’

There was something about the way he said her name that made her insides shiver. She suppressed the reaction and took a sip of the strong coffee. ‘Is there any further news of Queen Elena?’

Aziz put down his coffee cup, his narrowed gaze on the horizon. ‘We’ve had some progress. My men are investigating a desert settlement that has had some unusual activity, according to satellite photographs. I’ll know by tonight if Elena is being kept there.’

‘I hope she’s found.’

‘As do I.’ Aziz turned to look at her; there was something so solemn and steady about his grey gaze that Olivia stilled. The Gentleman Playboy looked awfully serious, but then she knew now there was more to him than what he showed to the world.

‘What is it?’ she asked, because even though he hadn’t said anything she felt there was something.

‘I have no right to ask anything more of you, Olivia,’ Aziz said. ‘But I am a desperate man in desperate circumstances.’

Nothing about Aziz, Olivia thought, seemed desperate. From the moment she’d met him he’d been powerful, confident, assured. So much so that she still had trouble believing he could ever doubt himself. ‘What do you want?’ she asked, although she had a feeling she already knew.

‘To stay one more day. I’m meant to open the Royal Gardens in the city centre with Queen Elena this afternoon. They’ve been redesigned. It would be no more than cutting a ribbon—’

‘Cutting a ribbon?’ Olivia shook her head in disbelief, even though happiness rippled through her at his request and at the realisation that she might be able to stay longer. ‘It would be a lot more than that, Aziz. I’d have to talk to people, stand right next to them... I wouldn’t fool anyone for a minute, or even a second.’

‘That was my concern as well,’ Aziz replied easily. ‘But you’d be veiled and wearing traditional Arabic dress. It’s not necessary in Siyad, but it would be seen as a sign of respect for the old ways, and happily it would be convenient for us. The only thing people would see of you is your eyes.’

‘And my eyes,’ Olivia pointed out, ‘Are blue. I don’t know what colour Queen Elena’s eyes are, but I’m quite sure they’re not blue.’

‘They’re grey. And we could use coloured contact lenses.’

‘Coloured—’ She stopped abruptly and shook her head. This was getting too deep, too dangerous, even if part of her wanted to stay. To be with Aziz. That, she thought darkly, was even more dangerous than any masquerade. ‘No, I can’t. I’m sorry. It’s too risky.’

‘You think I’m not aware of the risks?’ Aziz answered, one eyebrow arched. He spoke casually enough but she felt the suppressed tension and even anger in him.

Olivia sat back, still shaking her head. ‘You must be, of course,’ she said slowly.

‘I have far more to lose than you do, Olivia,’ he told her quietly. ‘Surely you see that. Even if we were discovered, your part in this plot would be easily explained and dismissed. You’re my employee, after all. I could have coerced you, or threatened you with dismissal.’

‘But you wouldn’t!’

‘Of course not!’ He shook his head, smiling, yet clearly a bit affronted. ‘What kind of man do you think I am?’

‘I don’t know what kind of man you are, Aziz,’ Olivia answered, although she certainly felt she knew him better now than she had twenty-four hours ago—and she knew he was not the kind to blackmail or threaten. She knew him better than she knew anyone else in her life, which was a sad commentary on how isolated she’d been. Even so, she made herself state, ‘I barely know you.’

‘You’ve been in my employ for six years.’

‘And in all that time I’ve seen you only a few times a year, for a few minutes at a time, to discuss the house or your social calendar. I don’t know you.’

She stared at him; her words seemed to echo through the room, taking on a new, deeper meaning.

Aziz stared back at her, his eyes glittering like gun metal. ‘I think you know me well enough to know I would never mistreat you or anyone,’ he said, and his voice once again held that wry lightness Olivia now suspected hid other, darker emotions. Hurt or anger or even despair.

‘I don’t think you would mistreat anyone,’ Olivia told him quietly. ‘And I don’t think you’ll fire me if I refuse to continue with this charade.’

‘No, I won’t. Your job is secure, Olivia, if that’s what you’re really worried about.’ He paused, watching her thoughtfully for a moment. Olivia tried not to squirm under that silvery gaze. No, she wasn’t just worried about her job. She was worried about her heart. Her soul.

‘All I’m asking for is a favour,’ Aziz resumed. ‘And, yes, I know it is a big one. Come to the Royal Gardens with me today and you can fly home to Paris tonight.’

He made it sound so simple. And it felt so tempting. To be someone else for a day, to feel like someone else, light, happy and free...

Desired.

Olivia gazed out at the stunning view and tried to resist. ‘And what will you do if Queen Elena isn’t found?’ she asked after a pause. ‘Tomorrow is meant to be your wedding day, Aziz.’

She looked up to see him do a mock double-take. ‘Wait, tomorrow?’ She gave a small, answering smile as his smile turned bleak. ‘I have to find her, Olivia. And I will.’

‘But if you don’t,’ Olivia pressed, even she knew she shouldn’t—shouldn’t ask, shouldn’t know, shouldn’t care. ‘What will you do? The six weeks run out tomorrow.’

‘I’ll have to think of something else.’ Aziz met her gaze directly. ‘But that is not your concern, Olivia. All you need to do is accompany me to the gardens today.’

‘Couldn’t you just say Queen Elena is indisposed, or tired?’

He shook his head. ‘Our appearance on the balcony yesterday was very popular, and things are unstable enough as it is. If people found out she is missing...’

‘Why hasn’t Khalil said anything?’ Olivia asked suddenly. ‘Surely he knows how dangerous the situation is, just as you do? Why hasn’t he admitted he has Queen Elena?’

‘Because even in Kadar kidnapping is illegal,’ Aziz answered with a grim smile. ‘And Khalil is gambling that I won’t want people to know she is missing.’

‘And he’s right.’

‘Yes.’

‘Couldn’t you talk to Khalil? Reason with him?’

‘Possibly, if I could reach him. At the moment he doesn’t want to be found. In any case, I’m not sure either of us is in the right frame of mind for a nice chat.’

Aziz turned away to gaze once more out at the garden; Olivia could hear the tinkling of a fountain in the distance. ‘I know this is a risk, Olivia,’ he said quietly, his gaze still on the gardens. ‘But it is my risk, not yours, and one I must take—not just for duty’s sake, but because I need to.’ He turned to her, his gaze grim, yet blazing.

‘And not just for the sake of my country but for the sake of my own soul. You told me I was insisting on claiming my title because of my father, and you were right. Part of my desire to return to Kadar is bound up in that. But a bigger part is about reclaiming my country’s past. Healing it, and healing my own soul.’ The smile he gave her seemed sad. ‘I spent my entire childhood feeling inferior. I want to prove to myself as well as my people that my father was wrong. That I can be a good ruler.’ His smile turned wry, mocking. ‘And now you can cue the triumphant violins. Find a handkerchief to dab the tears from your eyes.’

‘I’m not teary,’ Olivia told him, although she actually was, a little. She’d heard such sincerity, such raw honesty, in Aziz’s voice. ‘But I understand, Aziz. Maybe more than you even realise.’