CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SIX
‘K ING ?’ V IOLET STARTED to laugh.
Sahir didn’t.
Her eyes were wide open now and she actually sat up. ‘So, you’re a prince?’
‘The Crown Prince.’
‘Crikey.’
‘A few hours from now I have a function to attend, then I fly back to Janana later that night.’
‘Oh.’ She stared at him. ‘I honestly don’t know what to say.’
‘I am just trying to explain that I have to leave and why I—’
She put a hand to his mouth. ‘You don’t have to explain the next part.’
‘What next part?’
‘That I’m a very unsuitable date for a future king.’
‘You’d be a wonderful date, but...’
Unsuitable in ways she could not begin to comprehend.
He had told her more than he’d ever told any other woman, and he already felt close to her in ways the laws strictly dictated he avoid, but... ‘I’m needed back home.’
‘I get it. Well...’ She frowned. ‘Of course, I don’t...’
Violet turned on the light.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I knew there was something.’
She didn’t sound daunted or overwhelmed. Truly just thrilled to have spent the night with him.
‘Something?’ Sahir checked.
‘You’re so formal...’ She pinched his nipple. ‘When you’re not being sexy.’
He caught her wrist and held it there, and looked up at those blue eyes smiling down at him.
And nothing—not a thing—had changed.
‘Come here,’ he told her, taking her head and pulling it down to his.
There would be no sleeping tonight...
None.
At dawn he ran them a bath, and Violet rather gingerly climbed in so that she faced him.
‘Ouch, ouch, ouch...’ she said, lowering herself down, and then sinking into the relief of the warm water. ‘You have chased this horrible week away,’ she told him as she soaped his chest. ‘Honestly, when I look back I am going to smile now, and remind myself there’s always a silver lining...’
‘Good.’
It was his turn with the soap now. He washed first her arms, her hands, her fingers, and then he washed her breasts.
He moved her onto his lap...
But even as they kissed the world was waking up—his phone was bleeping from the bedroom.
‘Ignore it...’ she told him.
Sahir was tempted to bolt all entrances.
‘Violet...’
She looked up, wrapped in a towel and gathering up her clothes.
‘Stay for breakfast.’
‘There are people arriving...’
‘I know. Look, I can’t miss today.’
‘I get that.’
And Violet absolutely did. He was the person who was leaving, the man who could never be, and right now that thought didn’t scare her. She had never dared so much as to hope for even one such wonderful, magical night and Sahir had given her that.
‘I know you’re busy.’
‘Yes. However, would you like to spend the day here?’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t want you to feel I’m rushing off. I can delay the flight...we can have a late dinner tonight—only this time without so much company.’
She knew what he meant. As wonderful as the whole night had been, for Violet, the best moments had been those spent alone with him.
‘Just us,’ he added.
‘I’d love that.’
Violet needed little persuading. She had thought goodbye was imminent, and she accepted the reprieve with delight.
‘I have to get dressed,’ he told her.
‘It’s a bit late to be shy,’ Violet said, and smiled, but then he explained he had someone coming in to assist him.
‘Formal attire,’ he said.
‘Oh!’
While she wasn’t in the least embarrassed with Sahir, she was not going to sit around with someone else here.
Before he let someone called Faisal in, she pulled on her gorgeous silk gown, then opened the French windows and stepped onto the balcony, feeling the gorgeous breeze... A helicopter was hovering in the blue, blue sky and she stretched her arms up and arched her neck, then gazed out at the new and beautiful morning.
How long she stood there, Violet wasn’t sure. She was just daydreaming, and reliving the night they’d shared.
‘Hey...’
She turned and caught her breath. Sahir wore a white robe and his kafir was tied with gold braid. He looked magnificent.
‘Look at you...’
‘I was just enjoying looking at you ,’ he responded. ‘Your breakfast is here.’
It was the most beautiful Sunday she had ever known, Violet decided as she swapped her hired gown for a robe and climbed into bed.
Sahir placed a tray across her lap.
‘I might watch a movie,’ she said, buttering a muffin with jam. But then, glancing around, she saw there was no television. ‘Or sleep...’
He picked up a little remote, and a huge screen popped up as if from the end of the bed.
‘Anything you need, just use the phone.’
‘Does it work for Florentines?’ she teased.
‘It works for anything.’
‘Do I get a kiss?’
‘No.’ He looked at her strawberry-jam-covered fingers and lips. ‘But I’ll make up for that tonight.’
‘Good luck, then,’ she said, and gave him a smile. ‘Hurry back!’
Sahir left her in a cloud of white linen, working her way through a pot of tea.
He swept downstairs and spoke with Faisal about dinner—and arranged for a treat to be delivered to her.
As he went to leave, Sahir paused. Last night had been incredible. Not just the sex, but the before and after. He simply could not imagine sitting down to dinner with Violet tonight and boarding his jet straight afterwards. Certainly she deserved more than that—and, most rarely for Sahir, he wanted more of a lover’s company...
For the last two years he had worked non-stop—in contrast with his younger brother, Ibrahim, who did very little, and his sister, Jasmine, who did... Well, nothing much at all.
While Sahir had certainly lived a decadent life at times, duty had always outweighed everything else. Perhaps it was time for his siblings to step up when required.
Because right now, Sahir felt more time with Violet was required.
Life was going to be hectic once he returned, and while he knew Violet should be spending this week looking for work, he did want to indulge her and mark the preciousness of last night.
In the dining room, his escorts were waiting, and as Faisal made the final adjustments to his kafir he spoke with Pria.
‘I am going to be staying in London for another week. Can you make the necessary arrangements?’
‘Sir...?’ Aadil glanced over. ‘We are scheduled to depart tonight.’
‘The schedule has changed,’ Sahir responded.
Certainly he didn’t need to explain his reasons, simply order it to be arranged.
Still, as he got into the waiting vehicle, Sahir knew that the sudden delay to his return would already be causing a stir—both amongst his staff here in London and at the palace in Janana.
That was quickly confirmed when, moments later, a call came through from the King.
‘Another week in London?’ he snapped.
‘Correct,’ Sahir told his father. ‘Thanks to the delays with the council over the palace refurbishment, I have a clear schedule.’
‘King Abdul has asked for a meeting. I was relying on you to take it.’
‘You have three heirs. Ibrahim or Jasmine can step up.’
‘Jasmine gets too worked up.’
‘I’m aware.’
‘And your brother is on vacation.’
Again? Sahir was tempted to say, but instead he offered a more personal response. ‘So am I.’
Yes, he was taking a vacation—his first week off in more than one hundred—and God it felt good.
‘I have to go now,’ Sahir informed his father.
As the car moved forward to enter the formal procession Sahir ended the conversation with the courtliness expected of him.
‘Your Majesty.’
Violet completely loved not being a virgin!
Especially so when sitting propped up on cushions in Sahir’s sumptuous bed, eating the Florentines that had been served on a pretty plate!
‘Where on earth...?’ Violet had blinked when they’d arrived, then been told His Highness had arranged a delivery.
The only thing she had to worry about was deciding which movie to watch.
She flicked happily past all the news channels—misery had no place in this day. But then something, or rather someone , caught Violet’s attention and she quickly flicked back.
‘It’s me!’ she gasped.
It really was!
Florentines forgotten, Violet stared at herself on screen. Her head was thrown back and both arms stretched out, as if in salutation to the glorious morning. Her gorgeous gown billowed in the morning breeze.
Oh, she wished she could record the image—because it captured precisely how happy she felt, how perfect.
‘A glorious London morning,’ the plummy newsreader was saying. ‘And for our viewers just joining us, let’s take a quick look back—these are the first arrivals, making their way down The Mall.’
‘Oh, who cares?’ Violet muttered. ‘Get back to me.’
But then, realising that Sahir might be in one of the cars on screen, she found that she did care after all, and started trying to work out who was who.
However, she was vain enough to smile in delight when the camera cut back to her.
‘Somebody is clearly enjoying the view...’ the newsreader said.
They were talking about her, Violet realised as the camera zoomed in on the balcony. But her brief revelling in celebrity vanished, vanity forgotten, and her breath caught as on the screen the most beautiful man in the world stepped through the French windows. It was Sahir, kafir on, wearing his formal robes, and looking as delectable as ever.
Then they were back to the cars.
Was it vanity or lust that had her scouring the internet trying to find more images of them?
Violet wanted that moment captured, wanted it saved on her phone, but it was nowhere to be found.
She hit rewind on the news channel, tried to go back fifteen minutes...ten...thirty. But there was nothing...
‘Where am I?’ she muttered.
She tried for ages, but found nothing, so she lay back in bed, sulking but happy, watching all the dignitaries arrive. Her eyes were growing heavy at the presenter’s drone, yet she fought to keep them open in the hope of catching a glimpse of Sahir.
But there was no sign of him, and after such a brilliant night of dancing, talking and being so gloriously ‘bedded’—as Sahir would say—her lack of sleep was finally catching up.
She lay curled up in the bed, excited at the prospect of Sahir coming back this evening. She’d honestly thought she’d be back in her little flat by now...
Her bravado wavered a fraction as she slid towards slumber. She’d known all they had was one night... But the thought of stepping into her empty flat and peeling off her dress... Even the prospect of a week off work didn’t help—she’d rather be there, be busy...
Instead, she’d be returning her dress. Looking for a job.
She thought of what Sahir had said last night.
‘We all have our own mountain to climb.’
Violet half wondered about his. Certainly, she’d faced many mountains in her time—starting over with a new family, saying goodbye to her own. New people...new faces... Endless goodbyes and people walking away.
With Sahir it felt different.
Her heavy eyelids fluttered open in a brief attempt to face this new mountain she was about to climb, yet she was daunted by the prospect of saying goodbye to Sahir.
The little mountain seemed to have turned into the Alps—only they weren’t inviting. They were icy and cold, with dark clouds hiding their peaks. And, really, she didn’t want to know what was up there.
She glimpsed missing Sahir, getting over their wonderful night, facing a whole world without him...
Violet had a very good trick for when panic hit.
She hid.
Pulling the crisp linen over her head, she closed her eyes and gave in to the bliss of sleep.
Sahir rarely missed a beat at these events.
Yet today he struggled to focus on his conversations, and Pria had to subtly prompt him to offer his condolences to the Sultan.
Certainly, the Sultan didn’t get the extended, effusive words of sympathy that Aadil had suggested...
For the first time Sahir just wanted this over and to head home.
Not home , home...
But back to his bolthole in London, where Violet was waiting.
‘Your Highness...’ As he mingled in the grounds, Pria discreetly pulled him aside. ‘There might be a slight issue.’
He frowned.
‘Some footage of your balcony was briefly aired on television. Aadil was straight on it and it’s been taken down.’
‘I see.’ Sahir immediately understood the concern. ‘Was it just my guest the cameras captured?’ he enquired.
Sahir wouldn’t be so crass as to look at his phone in the current surrounds.
‘Layla has the footage. She thinks you might have been glimpsed, although there’s no sign of you on anything else we’ve seen...’ She glanced to her own assistant, Kumu, who shook her head in agreement. ‘As I said, sir,’ Pria continued, ‘it’s all been taken down, and Aadil is going to speak to your guest and ensure that she doesn’t go back out onto the balcony.’
‘I would prefer for you to be the person to speak with her,’ Sahir said. He knew Aadil would be by far too abrupt, and that Pria would be tactful and kind. ‘Kumu can take over here.’
‘Sir...’ Pria said, and she swallowed.
Sahir was aware that Kumu was new and it was her first foreign trip.
‘We’ll be fine.’ Sahir nodded. ‘Let me know if there are any updates.’
There were none.
The reception was magnificent, the company interesting at times, but even so, for Sahir, the day seemed to move at a ridiculously slow pace.
It had nothing to do with the lack of sleep—it was his mind all too often drifting to the night ahead, to last night...
It was most unlike Sahir, but he even found his gaze wandering, looking for Pria. Or even Aadil.
He just wanted to know that Violet was okay.
Finally the formalities were over, and he was more than relieved to climb into his private vehicle, with both Kumu and Layla joining him.
‘Where’s Pria?’ He frowned.
‘I’m not sure,’ Layla admitted.
‘I sent her to the house a while ago. W hat about Aadil...?’
‘I haven’t seen him. I had a message to say that all the footage has been taken down, though there’s the occasional photo popping up...’
Of course she had them stored, and Sahir glanced at the photo on Layla’s phone and had to force himself not to take it from her just to get a better look. Actually, he had to force himself not to smile—for there was Violet, just as he recalled seeing her this morning, only this was an aerial shot.
‘Hardly incriminating,’ he said.
He’d been over and over that moment in his head, and aside from that, Sahir always took great care.
‘What about the footage?’ he asked, and Layla handed him the phone and he played the short video.
Violet stood there, her face turned to the skies, her arms waving as if she was standing on the bow in the Titanic movie, looking so wonderful and free.
And for the rest of the week he would be too.
‘Oh,’ Kumu said. ‘The King is asking you to call him.’ Her eyes were wide with alarm, and she was clearly struggling with Pria’s tablet. ‘The request came through an hour ago.’
‘It’s fine,’ Sahir said, quietly certain that his father wanted to discuss the futility of sending an unversed Ibrahim or a nervous Jasmine to meet with King Abdul.
God, it had been a long day...
He glanced out of the window and realised the car had barely moved. Pressing a button, he opened the screen between himself and the driver.
‘What’s the delay?’
‘We’re just about to exit, sir.’
There were many other dignitaries leaving, and as they left the official event and blended into the traffic the crowds slowly started to disperse, with pedestrians ignoring traffic signals and crossing roads en masse.
‘We’re still well ahead of schedule,’ Layla added, perhaps noticing that the usually measured Crown Prince was impatiently drumming the fingers of his free hand on the armrest.
Sahir halted the small gesture, for he rarely allowed his body to betray his thoughts or emotions.
Anyway, Layla was wrong. Sahir wasn’t worrying about the schedule—he was feeling restless in the slow-moving vehicle. Or rather, he felt a sense of impatience building. He had a previously unknown desire to get home and tell Violet he’d taken the week off, work out what they might do with this precious slice of time he had engineered.
Sahir closed his eyes for a moment and arched his neck to one side as Kumu read through the messages that had piled up in his brief absence. He thought of Violet’s smile when he told her tonight over dinner that they would be spending the week together. And then his mind drifted to how he’d left her, sitting in his bed, her lips and fingers sticky with jam, and it was not his taste buds that needed satisfying...
The kiss he’d been forced to deny her this morning would be delivered. More, if the house he was returning to was empty. He wanted to be messaging Violet now, warning her of his desirous approach. And he knew she would be there to greet him. Were it just the two of them, he doubted they’d make it up the stairs...
‘Your Highness?’ Kumu said. ‘The council is being convened.’
Yes, Sahir thought. Now he’d taken a week off, suddenly they wanted to discuss his project.
They were pulling up at his residence. Maaz’s unmarked car was blocking the entrance to the basement garage, but Sahir barely noticed it as he stepped onto the street.
‘Your Highness,’ Faisal greeted him. ‘Is it possible...?’
‘Later,’ Sahir said.
He didn’t want to discuss menus or such things now.
‘Your Highness, forgive me...’ Faisal persisted.
But Sahir was already opening the door to the principal bedroom.
‘Violet?’
He frowned at the wall of silence that met him as he stepped in. The bed was made, her shoes and gown were gone, and he walked into the bathroom and saw it had been serviced.
‘Where’s my guest?’ he asked, his voice bewildered as Faisal came to the door.
Layla was just behind him, her face pale. ‘I just heard...’ she said to Faisal, then addressed Sahir. ‘Unfortunately, those images were seen.’
‘I don’t care about that now.’ He turned to Faisal. ‘Was my guest asked to leave? I specifically told Pria to be tactful.’
It was Faisal who spoke then. ‘Aadil spoke with Miss Lewis before Pria arrived. It would seem the King had discussed matters with the elders and together with Aadil they all agreed...’
‘Agreed to what?’
‘That any further conversation should take place back in Janana.’
‘And in due time it shall. Right now, I would like to speak with my guest...’
His patience was fast running out. The thought of Violet being bundled out of his home by Aadil incensed him. Violet deserved better than that.
‘I need her address...’
He frowned at the intrusion as Maaz came bounding up the stairs. He nodded to Layla, as if confirming something, then cleared his throat.
‘Sir, I have some information.’
‘And?’
‘The King felt that the situation was too volatile to leave your guest here...’
‘I can see that.’
The room was empty, not even a trace of her perfume was in the air, and though he appeared outwardly unmoved he was cursing himself for not getting her number, or even her address.
‘You have her details...’ He looked to Layla. ‘She would have been vetted.’
‘Sir.’ It was poor Faisal who told him at last. ‘Your guest has been taken to Janana...’
‘Taken?’ Sahir checked, unsure he’d heard right, for his pulse was pounding in his ears.
‘The royal jet took off an hour ago,’ Faisal confirmed.
It was beyond comprehension that his father, the King, would sanction this.
‘Where’s Pria?’ he asked.
‘She went with her, sir. I believe she thought it for the best...’
Violet must be terrified. He thought he had left her safe, instead—
‘I need...’ Sahir halted.
He must not reveal his frantic thoughts, nor his overwhelming need to see her.
‘Arrange a flight,’ he told Kumu. His voice was not his own, for it sounded measured rather than raw, his orders imperious, even as he reminded himself how to breathe. ‘Tell the palace I shall be arriving tonight, and that I trust my guest is being made most welcome and has been allocated the Inanna wing.’
The Inanna wing—or Venus wing—was reserved for the most esteemed female guests, and in allocating it to Violet he was letting the palace know the high regard in which he held her and that she was to receive only the best.
The dreadful news didn’t end there, though.
‘Your Highness, Miss Lewis isn’t at the palace.’
Faisal’s voice seemed to be coming from a long way off, for Sahir’s mind really was in too many places.
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Miss Lewis isn’t at the palace, sir,’ Faisal said again, doing his best to hold his head high as he attempted to meet Sahir’s eyes. ‘Your guest has been taken to the desert abode.’
Sahir felt as if a cricket bat had struck the back of his head.
Violet really had been taken.