‘No,’ she answered after a pause. ‘But with my child and your love of Olivia our marriage would be both a battle and a breeding ground for resentment.’
‘It wouldn’t have to be,’ Zayed said, but even he sounded unconvinced. The picture Halina was painting was bleak. But what choice did he have?
‘Do you know what I think?’ Halina said, and Zayed wasn’t sure he wanted to know. ‘I think you’re using your sense of duty as a big, fat excuse.’
‘What?’ The breath whooshed out of Zayed’s lungs as he stared at her in mounting fury. ‘My father and brother died in the war against Malouf. They were assassinated. I watched them die. For the last ten years—’ He broke off, struggling with the tidal wave of emotion he felt. ‘For the last ten years,’ he resumed, ‘I have dedicated my life, everything I have, to serving their country and protecting their memory.’
Halina’s face softened. ‘Prince Zayed, I’m not trying to diminish what happened to your family, or what you’ve done for them. Of course I’m not. You have suffered and worked tremendously for the good of your country, of your people.’
Zayed nodded, his jaw tight, pain flickering at his temples.
‘What I’m saying,’ Halina continued steadily, refusing to be cowed, ‘is that I believe you are using your sense of duty as a way to get out of being with Olivia.’
‘Why,’ Zayed demanded, ‘would I do that?’
‘Because you’re scared.’
He stiffened in outrage. He had never been called a coward in his life before this slip of a woman had dared to do so—and over what? ‘Scared? Of what?’
‘Of love. Of risking everything for another person. Of fighting for another person, and not just a cause. Of putting yourself out there, of getting hurt.’ The smile she gave him was whimsical and a little sad. ‘Take your pick.’
Zayed was unable to speak...to think...because in that devastating moment he knew she was right. He was scared. He’d lost people he’d loved so he’d never wanted to love again. Seeing Olivia after the snake had bitten her had been utterly terrifying, and he’d done his best to distance himself from her both physically and emotionally—for his own sake. Because he was scared. Because he was a coward.
‘Princess Halina, I still need your father’s support.’
‘I have to believe that there are other ways of getting it, or other countries who can come to your aid. Don’t make that your reason, Prince Zayed, not when it is merely an excuse.’
‘Plenty of rulers have chosen to marry out of duty,’ Zayed snapped.
Halina smiled. ‘Then don’t be one of them.’
‘And what about you? What will you do?’
Halina shrugged, not meeting his gaze. ‘I am not your concern, Prince Zayed. Olivia is.’
* * *
Zayed’s mind was in a ferment all afternoon as he paced his room at the palace, his thoughts going round in an endless, useless loop. He loved Olivia. He was afraid to love her. Afraid, too, to follow his own heart. What if it left his country in an even worse place, his people even more oppressed? Could he possibly be so selfish?
He stood at the window and watched the sun set over the desert, turning sand and sky to blazing gold. He had a sudden, piercing memory of Olivia in the desert, tending to the tribespeople, showing love and gentleness to all she encountered.
She would make a wonderful queen. She was his wife and his people had already accepted her. Why had he not been able to see that before in all its breath-taking clarity? He’d been so consumed with the alliance with Hassan, but in a sudden second of absolute certainty he realised that he should never have counted on that at all. He needed to win his people over, his country over, not depend on someone’s support from the outside. Just as he needed to win Olivia.
He turned from the room, determined, desperate to see her. To tell her all that was in his heart and mind. He found his way to the staff quarters where she normally slept, saw the small, spartan chamber she’d called her own and felt his heart rend all over again. She’d had so little here, yet she’d been so grateful. And she’d asked for nothing from him...but his love.
He spun away from the room and hurried downstairs, needing to find her. ‘Where is Olivia?’ he asked the first member of the palace staff he came across, a startled-looking man in royal livery. ‘Where is Miss Taylor?’
‘Miss Taylor?’ The man shook his head. ‘She is gone. She took a car to the airport an hour ago.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Three months later
PARIS WAS BEAUTIFUL in the autumn. From her apartment on the Ile de la Cité, Olivia could see the winding green of the river, the leaves of the trees alongside now starting to turn red and gold.
She’d been in Paris for three months, having left her heart back in Abkar with Zayed, but she was doing her best to live her life without it. Without him.
Upon arriving she’d stayed with her godmother, who had been surprisingly glad to see her. Olivia had been grateful to renew the acquaintance, and her godmother had also provided a useful contact to enable her to get a job in translation for a large corporation. Within a few weeks Olivia had both a job and an apartment and was cultivatin