Chapter Nine
Liliana awoke late.
Extremely late.
For a moment she lay there wondering how she could possibly have slept in when there was much to sort out. Or how she could relax in such an unfamiliar place.
She washed her face and hands then brushed her teeth and then pulled on the bra and knickers she’d washed out last night.
Her pencil skirt seemed even tighter than yesterday, but hopefully she was just bloated and about to get her period.
Still, just in case she had the beginnings of a bump, she left her blouse untucked.
Pulling on the jewelled slippers, she checked her reflection and was rather relieved to look dreadful.
Liliana was not here to impress Rafiq, nor succumb to his charms.
She was here to find out what had occurred and how he intended to fix things.
And then get out.
Then her eyes drifted down to her stomach…
There was no way she would be telling him her suspicions about the pregnancy.
Not here.
She put her hand over her stomach as she’d wanted to the other night, as if protecting the little life within.
‘Not here,’ she promised. ‘I shan’t be telling him here.’
Stepping out of the seraglio, she was very grateful he had shared the photos of his horse with her that first day. Otherwise the sight of Rafiq dressed in black desert robes might have had her turn and flee. Even with the small heads-up, the imposing sight of him had her step falter.
He was seated on a cushion, reading through some papers, and at the sound of her coming out looked up, his eyes narrowing.
He was a formidable sight indeed.
‘Good God,’ he said, those silver eyes taking in her attire, and coming to rest in her gaze. ‘What on earth are you wearing?’
‘The same clothes I had on yesterday.’
‘But surely there are robes, I told Fatima to ensure a full selection.’
‘I’m not dressing from your harem’s wardrobe.’
‘Harem?’
‘I’ve read about you and it’s rumoured you keep one.’
‘Of course it is.’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t.’
‘Well, I’m not dressing from your lovers’ wardrobe.’
‘Up to you.’ He stood and gestured for her to join him in the dining area behind the screens. ‘Shall we have some breakfast?’ Then he added, ‘Or would that be brunch?’
She smiled to herself as she lowered herself to a cushion at the low table, for she heard the inference. ‘Did you expect me to be up and ready to attend to your needs?’
‘I never really know what to expect from you,’ Rafiq said. ‘I thought you would be waiting last night with many questions. I have to say I’m impressed.’
‘Well, I’m not,’ Liliana said, taking some soft bread and scooping up some delicacies. ‘In fact, I’m very unimpressed of late.’ She lifted her eyes to him accusingly. ‘I actually preferred not knowing who you were.’
‘You prefer to bury your head in the sand?’
‘We should have left things as they were. I wish I’d never found out about Yara.’
‘Take out the drama of Yara,’ Rafiq said. ‘Are you saying that you wish I hadn’t come to your ball?’
‘Yes,’ she said, and then thought of all those awful nights full of longing, all those tears she had cried wishing she could see him again and the sheer unadulterated thrill when she had.
The way her heart had leapt at the sound of him calling her name.
She shrugged tightly. ‘I don’t know,’ Liliana admitted.
‘But it’s rather hard to take out the drama of Yara.
I asked you outright if you were married and you specifically told me that you didn’t date… ’
‘And I answered truthfully—I am not married, and I don’t date, and Yara and I are not betrothed, well, not officially.
Our parents came to an agreement long ago.
They decided between themselves that when the time came it would unite the countries, but it was never announced, and the truth of the matter is that neither of us really want the marriage. ’
‘My father used to do this to my mother, make excuses, offer explanations—’
‘I am not your father,’ he abruptly cut in. ‘Let’s make that perfectly clear. I am a man of my word and I am explaining things as best I can.’ Without revealing a secret he had not just promised to keep, but was not even his to share. ‘Yara and I have little to do with each other, except…’
‘Except you were in London together on the day we met,’ Liliana said. ‘I’ve read all the details now. I know she was at your house on the day we met. So you don’t have “little to do with each other”.’
‘You will listen to me…’
She looked up from the mint tea she was drinking, and heard the edge to his tone, and knew he was not used to being spoken back to.
‘No, you will listen to me,’ Liliana said, ‘and you will answer my questions.’ But even with brave words her eyes were sparkling with tears. ‘Firstly, is my mother safe?’
‘Safe?’
‘Yes, safe?’
‘Of course she is…’ he snapped back, but then conceded that with the press hounding her, Liliana’s mother might have felt otherwise. ‘Yes, she is at a hotel.’
‘I don’t want her name being dragged through the mud.’ Her voice sounded strangled. ‘She’s been through enough.’
‘I know she has. The reporters are gone from your homes and the articles are being wiped from the Internet.’
‘How?’
‘My office has taken care of most of it, but it wasn’t that easy. I’ve had to agree to a live interview…’ He hissed out a breath. ‘On top of that, both kings want me to publicly apologise.’
‘Perhaps you should apologise,’ Liliana said, ‘to all parties concerned.’
His jaw clamped down, and he looked at Liliana—so wary, confused and angry.
‘I assure you that your mother is fine. She could go home today, but she said that she would rather stay for a few more days at the Ritz Carlton,’ he said, then added, a little sardonically, ‘just to be sure.’
He watched her lips twitch a little as she fought not to smile, perhaps imaging her mother enjoying her luxurious surrounds. ‘That makes you smile.’
‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘She works very hard. I’m sure she’s enjoying being spoilt for a couple of days.’
He watched as she nibbled at a pastry, but then seemed to give in and put it down on the copper plate, as if even the effort of eating was too much.
‘You look tired,’ Rafiq said, not liking how the sunny woman he had met now looked pale and worried, or rather, not liking that he had made her so. ‘Upset.’
‘Of course I am—you’ve turned me into my mother and I shall never forgive you for that.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘Everyone’s judging me and thinking the worst.’ Her hands clutched the edges of the table, as if she wanted to overturn it, but she just gripped on for a moment before elaborating. ‘I can’t believe I’m the other woman.’
Rafiq closed his eyes. Liliana was the only woman who had even come close to his blackened heart, but he did not dare tell her that.
He wanted her close, wanted her here, but that night had been too close for comfort.
He would keep her at a safe distance and so he opened his eyes and answered cooly. ‘If they’re blaming anyone. I am quite sure it’s me.’
‘And I’m cross with myself—that I didn’t ask more questions. I would never have slept with you if I’d known about Yara.’
‘You’d prefer to still be a virgin?’
She shot him a look.
‘I’m just asking. You would prefer for that night to never have happened.’
Liliana could feel her cheeks burning, blushing at the memory, and, even now, unable to regret it.
‘The fact is we did sleep together and that night…’ He paused, watching the burn of her cheeks and recalling the soft feel of her skin.
Feeling again the bliss of their one night.
And no matter how he tried to be practical and deal with things as he usually would, something had shifted in him.
No matter how he’d fought it in recent weeks, he could not get his heart to turn back to cold and empty.
It beat higher every time he thought of her, and his heart flooded with warmth when he thought of their night.
And so, he let her a little closer ‘I don’t regret that night, Liliana.
It changed things for me, and I am asking if it changed things for you? ’
‘Of course it changed things…’ She took a breath, tried not to let him see the turmoil he had caused her heart. ‘I’ve had my private life splashed across the papers.’
‘I’m talking about feelings, Liliana. And believe me, I tend not to talk about them. I didn’t plan to see you again.’
She took a sliver of Turkish delight, even if she didn’t like it, but it was so pretty, the pink set off with green pistachios.
And she didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want him peeking inside her weak heart.
Because when Rafiq spoke about feelings, when he told her that night had changed things for him, it was not conducive to sensible thoughts.
‘You tried to pay me off,’ she accused, reminding herself how much it had offended her at the time.
‘I wasn’t paying you off. I was hoping you would sell the stone, not wear it. When you refused it, I sent the fabrics. I knew you would use them wisely, and I wanted…’
‘You wanted me away from Simon.’
‘Let me finish.’ He pointed his finger in warning. He would accept her disquiet and upset, but he wouldn’t have thoughts placed as facts. ‘I wanted to help give you the start with your business.’
She screwed closed her eyes and nodded, accepted he hoped that his gift had been an attempt only to free her. ‘I know that.’ She refused to melt to his charms like the treat she held between fingers. Not expecting much, she took a bite and to her surprise found it delicious.
Seriously so.
‘That was supposed to be it, I hoped. When you had accepted my gift we could both move on, but…’ Rafiq paused. ‘You’re distracted.’
‘I’m not.’ She shook her head, swallowed the sweet. ‘I just didn’t know I liked Turkish delight.’
‘Please listen.’
She was trying not to. His gentle words, the reminders of them, the admission of feelings were doing dangerous things to her heart.
She wanted to be told about a harem, that she must dress for him, dance for him, something, anything that could offend.