Reclaimed by the Powerful Sheikh

He forced his mind back to the point. Rebel. He hadn’t realised that she was still so haunted by it. In his mind, he scanned the press coverage of the Hanley Cup and realised that almost every single mention of her success had been grudgingly acknowledged in direct association with the events surrounding Rebel’s death. It was in every article, and one enterprising journalist had even managed to get it into a headline.

Perhaps, if at the very least, getting to the bottom of what had happened that day might help lay the past to rest. Because the rest of it...well. Pain rose up to choke off the conclusion of that sentence. It would do them both good to draw a line under their past. Because he knew neither of them had been able to move on.

He listened for the sounds of the shower, making sure she was still there and wouldn’t interrupt his next conversation.

He picked up the sat phone and waited for the connection to go through.

‘Odir.’

‘It’s me, Danyl.’

‘Danyl, good to hear from you. Everything okay?’

‘Yes, well, as long as I survive the gala.’ Danyl heard a chuckle from the ruling monarch of Farrehed. A sound that he’d once thought impossible from the imposing ruler of the neighbouring country.

‘Did you not get our RSVPs? Sorry—the kids have been running rings round my secretary since the nanny went on holiday last week.’

An image of Odir’s family sprang into Danyl’s mind. When he thought about his future, he could never imagine himself being as lucky as Odir had been—even in spite of the rocky path he and Eloise had once been on. In fact, it was a minor miracle that Odir and Danyl had become so close, given Odir’s father’s illegal incursion onto Ter’harnese soil the night of Odir’s wedding. It had taken weeks of intense negotiations to resolve, but working together had forged a bond that would not be easily undone again.

‘RSVPs all received. Actually, I wanted to ask a favour.’

‘Of course. I’ll never refuse a chance to put you in my debt,’ Odir joked, both men knowing full well that they were beyond debts.

‘Can I borrow Malik? I want him to look into something for me, though I’m not quite sure what he’ll be able to find, if anything. It was ten years ago, now, so...’

‘If there’s anything to find, he’ll find it,’ Odir assured him, and passed on Malik’s contact details.

* * *

Mason emerged into the cabin, her skin hot and pink, not from the heat of a shower so good it should be illegal on a private jet, but from sheer fury. She’d just got off the phone with her father and she was trying so very hard not to hit Danyl. Hard.

‘You got my father a woman?’

It was a beat. She might have missed it if she hadn’t known him so well, but he’d definitely taken a beat. Enough time to look her up and down with hawk-like eyes that made her suddenly conscious of every single part of her body. She wanted to growl. He’d always had that way of distracting her. Instead, she focused back on the problem at hand.

‘I got your father the best estate manager I could find.’

‘And she’s a woman.’

‘Yes, Mason. The best estate manager around happens to be a woman.’

‘Is this payback?’

‘Payback for what?’

‘I don’t know. You never needed much to be petty.’

‘Don’t be silly. I’m not petty,’ Danyl said with a trace of arrogant offence heavy in his tone.

‘Yes, you are.’

‘No, I’m not.’

‘You are! You spent a week dressed in pink shirts because of the crack I made about real men wearing pink.’

‘Well, it’s true. Only a real man can wear pink. And besides, you said it brought out the colour of my eyes.’

‘It brought out the colour of something,’ Mason grumbled in reply.