“So, we have no choice,” Faruq said with a worried glance at his son.
Zahir was no object of pity or concern and never would be. “There is always a choice. We will release our own statement.”
“And what will it say?” King Malik asked, hope gleaming in eyes reflecting a lifetime of power and even less tolerance for not getting his own way as Zahir’s father.
“That I recognize waiting so long to announce our formal engagement was a mistake. I will woo my bride-to-be. The country can expect announcement of my formal betrothal by the end of the year.”
If hearts and flowers were what she wanted, then they were what he would give his errant bride-to-be.
His father’s bark of laughter was tinged with no less disbelief than Angele’s actions had sparked. King Malik and Cemal merely stared at Zahir as if he’d taken leave of his senses.
“You doubt my ability to woo one innocent woman after witnessing my skills at negotiations with world leaders?” he demanded.
Cemal coughed. “A woman is not a world power.”
“No, but one day your daughter will be married to one.” Zahir bowed his leave-taking to his father and King Malik, inclining his head to Cemal. “If you will excuse me, I have a campaign to plan.”
If fury drove him more than desire, that was his own business.
His father frowned, but said, “If you are sure this is the course of action you want to take, I will have the press release with your apology and intentions drawn up and disseminated.”
“Do you have another suggestion?”
“You could let her go.”
“I cannot. In waiting too long to finalize our engagement, I failed Angele. I will not do so again through inaction.” Besides, they had already had their wedding night.
There would damn well be a wedding.
“Good luck,” Cemal said, sounding like he meant it.
King Malik nodded. “My staff and family are at your disposal. I will have my wife create a dossier most likely to help you in your cause.” King Malik turned to Cemal. “She will draw upon Lou-Belia’s knowledge of her daughter as well.”
Cemal nodded. “Good. Her mother knows Angele better than anyone else.”
“Thank you.” Not that Zahir doubted his ability to convince Angele to marry him.
However he would take what help was offered. After all, he had been certain that after the previous night she would never have gone through with this farce of denying him to begin with.
He understood his intended’s motivations a thousand-fold better several hours later. He’d finally returned to his rooms only to find a thick envelope with his name on it and stamped with a red Private prominently in several places.
The letter was somewhat illuminating, but coupled with the pictures, Zahir realized he was damn lucky Angele had handled breaking the contract the way she had. Acknowledging that did nothing to improve his black mood.
The fury he’d felt at her defection was nothing compared to the incendiary rage he experienced knowing she had been subjected to blackmail.
Looking through the pictures, he had no doubts about who had taken them and used them for monetary gain, either. There could only be one person. Only Zahir had thought Elsa too smart to risk something like this. She stood to lose far more than she could ever hope to gain.
Regardless of who the culprit was, though, Angele should have brought the problem directly to him. Instead she had paid the money.
They were not close, but she had to have known that he would deal with the problem.
The fact Angele had paid money to keep his name out of the tabloids boggled his mind. It simply was not the way things were done. She had to have known he would have safeguards in place in just such an event.
She certainly expected him to be able to take care of it now, or so her letter suggested.
Nevertheless, her loyal, if foolish, actions were further indication that she was indeed in love with him. Or believed herself to be. He gave very little credence to love and all it entailed, but her feelings for him should make his wooing a simple matter.