Reclaimed by the Powerful Sheikh

e, but when it came down to it he had not shown her that he would stay with her. He hadn’t stayed. He had allowed her to push him away, rather than fight with her, fight for her. Both then and now. Crashing waves of shock beat against his heart. All this time he had blamed her for leaving him, yet in reality he had let her go. He may have fooled himself into thinking that it was what she wanted, but he knew...now he knew that it had been easier for him to let her leave. Images of what might have been—had he argued with her, had he proved to her that he loved her, had he stayed and confronted both their fears—ran through his mind like a movie. It would have been painful, but they would have got through it. Together. All this time... Guilt and pain warred within his chest. For all his words of confronting his grief—honouring it—the one thing he hadn’t honoured, really honoured, was his duty to her...his love for her.

‘I have to leave.’

‘And what about the Prime Minister?’ his mother asked, with the largest smile he’d ever seen.

‘He can wait.’

* * *

It had only been when she’d packed the last of the few things she’d come to Ter’harn with that Mason had realised she wasn’t even sure how to get home. But it seemed that Danyl had thought of her even in her leaving of him. Michaels had knocked on her door, informed her that he would be taking her to the airport and booked her on a first-class flight back to Sydney with transfers back home. He’d swept her up with efficiency and discretion, not ignoring her tear-stained appearance, but not acknowledging it either.

That was how she found herself sitting in yet another lap of luxury she was sure she couldn’t appreciate, trying so very hard not to break down and cry. Her entire body ached from tension, exhaustion and just plain old hurt. He had told her he loved her. And she had left. He had asked her to take a leap of faith, and she hadn’t been able to. And she hated herself for it. Hated that she was so locked in a cycle of fear, hated her mother for leaving such a legacy. She was so very sorry for the small child she had been, and still was in some ways, that was just scared of opening herself up to the possibility of happiness, of love, because if it was taken away again...she just didn’t think that she’d survive.

Mason turned away from the air stewardess, who placed a glass of champagne and one of orange juice on the side table, clearly wary of intruding. Mason closed her eyes, pressed her head back against the seat and wished the plane would just take off.

There had only ever been Danyl. No one before, and no one since. She had been cruel when she’d told him that their relationship was candyfloss, knowing that above all experiences in her life that was the one that really held true. But to think of that time, of those feelings of love...what they had shared was a childish precursor to the way she felt for him now as a man. A man who cared so deeply for his country, a man who had forged bonds of friendship within the Winners’ Circle, and who was so clearly beloved of his parents. A man who, unlike her, had respected his grief, allowed himself to feel it. A man who knew himself so acutely and so strongly he was able to put himself on the line before her, lay himself bare to her. And still she’d rejected him. Danyl was, and always would be, a man who felt duty so acutely. She hadn’t wanted to be a burden to him then, and wouldn’t dream of being a burden to him now. God knew she’d been a burden to people long enough.

Her heart ached and she clenched her hands to try to stop the tremors she knew would be there, but the tears falling down her cheeks betrayed her and she couldn’t do a thing to stop them.

An announcement in Arabic stole the attention of the passengers and their reaction was enough to tell her that there was something wrong. It had just begun in English, when the sounds of sirens coming from outside the plane began to filter through the cabin.

She looked out to see four black, diplomatic estates being escorted by police cars, lights flashing, turning in a wide curve onto the runway.

Shivers took over her body, and she turned to find the air stewardess approaching her. In quiet tones the woman asked her to follow her please. Her cheeks burned as passengers craned their necks to look at her, muttering between themselves.

‘What’s going on? Is everything okay?’ Mason asked the air stewardess as she began to unbuckle her seatbelt.

‘Everything’s fine, ma’am, but if you could come with me...’ She directed Mason to the cabin door, and Mason was surprised to see a set of stairs leading down from the doorway. At the bottom stood Danyl, alone, in a dark, fine woollen coat torn open by the wind. A beautiful crisp blue shirt was flattened against taut stomach muscles and open at the neck.

‘Danyl, what are you doing here? You’re going to cause a scene.’ Mason had still not taken a step down yet, calling to him, instead, from the doorway.

‘I don’t care.’

‘But... I... I left.’

‘No, I don’t think you left. I think I let you go.’

‘What?’ She was confused, not quite sure where this was going, and not particularly enamoured of the fact that there was a whole planeload of people watching them.

‘You didn’t leave me. I just didn’t stay with you.’

Mason’s heart began to pound.

‘Do you love me?’

Mason knew that she couldn’t lie to him. He’d not asked before, but now he had...she just couldn’t do it, because she did. She loved him so much.

* * *

From where he stood on the tarmac, he could see the truth she wouldn’t yet speak. It was in her eyes, on her face and written across her skin. He allowed it to fill him, allowed it to give him the confidence he really did need at that moment.

‘Well, I refuse,’ he said, adopting the most arrogant tone he could, because he knew it would make her smile, he hoped it would make her laugh as she once had. As he once had.

‘Refuse to what?’

‘Leave you,’ he said, taking one step up the stairs. ‘Or allow you to leave me.’

‘Because you’re a prince?’ she asked, her voice trembling.