Chapter Six
CHAPTER SIX
I SAM WATCHED HER stumble back a step, eyes round with shock. ‘Amnesia? That’s...’ Slowly she shook her head. ‘Do people really get that? I thought it was only in movies.’
A bitter laugh cracked open Isam’s tight lips. ‘I wish.’ How much he wished it only occurred in fiction. ‘Unfortunately, I’m living proof it’s real.’
‘You mean, you don’t remember anything ?’
He hesitated. Very few people knew the full truth about his condition. Given his position as ruler of Zahdar, it was thought best to keep the situation confidential. The last thing his people needed was to lose confidence in him. The potential damage to investment, to the massive development projects he and his father had initiated, even potentially to the peace of his nation, was too great.
But already he and Avril shared a potentially inflammatory secret, their daughter. He had to trust her. Besides, instinct urged that she wouldn’t betray him.
But can you trust your instincts? Maybe even the memories you do have are flawed and your image of yourself distorted.
That was what some would have him believe. But Isam couldn’t allow himself to think that way. He had to believe in himself, and now, in Avril.
‘I have lots of memories. It’s only what happened in the six months or so before the chopper crash that are foggy.’
Foggy. That’s a nice euphemism. Why not admit it’s basically a great, yawning gap?
‘And I don’t remember the crash or its immediate aftermath.’
The doctors said it was because of the blow to his head, but the emotional trauma of losing his father to such catastrophic injuries was partly responsible.
Apparently, despite Isam’s own injuries, he’d managed to pull his father and the pilot from the chopper before help arrived, though they were probably dead on impact. He’d heard a whispered comment that the scene was one of the most devastating even the seasoned rescuers had ever seen.
Avril stumbled back and sank into a chintz armchair. It was a relief to focus on her. ‘The six months before the crash? Does that mean you don’t remember...?’
‘I remember some things. But even what I do remember, I can’t always trust. I’ve been told that some of my recollections aren’t correct.’
His distant relative Hafiz had acted as regent while he’d been in hospital, and some of Hafiz’s comments about Isam’s actions prior to the accident disturbed him. Made him question what he knew of himself.
It was frustrating and undermined his ability to move forward as he wished. Increasingly he had suspicions about that, but for now he had more pressing matters to deal with.
Avril. And their daughter.
‘What do you remember from that time?’
He met her eyes and knew what she was wondering. How much he remembered about her .
‘Not nearly enough. I remember snippets, scenes rather than complete memories. The visit of another head of state to Zahdar. A friend’s wedding.’
He paused, reluctant even now to admit it, but knowing it was unavoidable. ‘But not you, Avril. I don’t remember you.’
It was a lie. Since seeing her in the boardroom yesterday he’d been getting short flashbacks. Not of any conversation but rather sensual recollections. The honey taste of her on his tongue. The music of her soft cries as she tipped over the edge into bliss. The feel of her body welcoming his.
But were they true memories or wish fulfilment?
Because from the moment she’d walked into the presidential suite yesterday, he’d felt a sensual tug, a deep-seated hunger for this woman who was to all intents and purposes a stranger.
Was it any wonder he’d slept badly?
Isam saw her absorb that, hurt swiftly replacing shock in her expressive eyes.
‘You don’t remember anything about me? You employed me about six months before your accident. We worked together in London the week before.’
Guilt tightened his flesh, making it prickle in discomfort.
How must it be for a woman who’d given her virginity to him, who’d borne his child , to discover he had no recollection of her?
Even though he hadn’t let her down deliberately, it must feel like a second betrayal, after he’d failed to return to her in London.
It was inconceivable that he could be responsible for the torment he saw in her wide eyes. Yet he knew, with a heavy heart, that it was so.
Isam wished he could make this easier for her. But lying would do no one any good.
‘I’m sorry. I don’t remember. But when I saw you yesterday you seemed...familiar.’
The fact that he’d been instantly plagued by sensual snapshots had made it impossible to concentrate on the meeting. Snapshots, sensations, yearnings. They had seemed real. Seemed like genuine memories, but could he be sure? And were they of her as he believed? Or of some previous lover?
Racking his overtaxed brain, he’d been unable to recall any lover who matched those memories.
Avril collapsed back in her chair, deflated. ‘That’s why you were so brusque?’ She frowned, her voice dropping as if she spoke to herself more than him. ‘That didn’t seem natural. It didn’t seem like you , to blank me like that. You were never a cruel man.’
He was relieved to hear that. Some of the things Hafiz had said lately made him wonder if his view of himself was flawed.
‘But your London investments. You must remember those.’
Isam shrugged. ‘Only the long-term ones like the hotel where I’m staying. I inherited that from my English grandmother years ago.’
‘When you hired me you were in the process of acquiring some British investments. That’s why you wanted an assistant in the UK.’
‘So I gather. But I don’t recall them.’
For long moments she regarded him silently then shook her head. ‘Even so, your staff must have known about them. They must have known about me. It’s a long time since your accident but I haven’t heard a word from you.’
Her stare was accusing, as if she either didn’t believe in his memory loss or thought he’d used it as a convenient excuse to avoid her.
Exhaustion hammered him and he rubbed his temple where the shadow of that familiar ache threatened anew.
‘I’m sorry, Avril. I know this seems far-fetched.’
Almost as far-fetched as discovering he had a lover he’d forgotten and a baby. He drew a deep breath.
‘It seems you had a personal number for me, not one that was used by my staff. I lost that phone in the crash. The same with my email, I didn’t use a palace address. The royal staff weren’t involved in my British investments and it seems I channelled that work through you alone.’
Her eyebrows shot up. ‘Is that usual? For them not to know anything? I know I only had dealings with you but I’d assumed...’
What could he say? That he didn’t know? That he could only guess?
‘These UK investments are quite separate from everything else and clearly I’d decided to manage them on my own, with you on the ground here. I wasn’t investing public funds. I was using my own private capital, so there is no question of impropriety.’
‘I wasn’t suggesting that—’
‘Of course not.’
But he remained on edge at even a hint of suspicion, Hafiz’s innuendos that his priorities weren’t always for the public good fresh in his mind.
‘That’s why your staff were so eager to access my laptop? You really didn’t have backup?’
‘Of course I have. I just don’t seem to have made a note of where. It’s not in the cloud storage used for palace records, but then these weren’t public service documents. Remember, too, that everyone’s focus after the accident was on continuing the usual business of government after so much disruption. There was no reason to look for additional matters off the official books.’
If it weren’t so appalling it would be laughable. A king who couldn’t even retrieve his own business documents. Because he’d deliberately not wanted to involve the usual channels in these projects.
The few senior palace staff who knew the situation had been utterly discreet, because there’d been enough public anxiety following the crash that killed his father and injured him. For a while there’d been some doubt about how quickly he’d recover. Informing his people that their new king had a faulty memory would hardly inspire confidence.
If word got out about any of this it would be more ammunition for Hafiz, who seemed intent on undermining him.
All Isam knew for sure was that he’d been determined to pursue these investments as separate from any others he owned. He thought he knew why but ‘thought’ was a far cry from ‘knew’.
‘So...’ Avril drew the word out ‘...you didn’t come to London for me . You came to find out about the business.’
He inclined his head. ‘I came across a note that made me curious.’
He’d been trying to fill the gaps in his memory, trying to recreate his movements, but his diary had merely said ‘London’. Until he’d unearthed a handwritten note with her details, perhaps from when he’d employed her.
‘I had my staff investigate and they discovered you’d attended meetings with me.’
They’d also discovered he’d been paying her regularly for some time, which had made even his loyal administrator, Rashid, look askance, until they discovered they were salary payments, all above board, just not organised through the usual channels.
Her tone was sharp. ‘You investigated me?’
‘Not in detail.’ If they had, he’d have known in advance about Maryam. ‘I wanted to speak to you myself, rather than rely on others.’
Since being injured he preferred not to take reports at face value. He needed to assure himself that he understood the situations with which he dealt.
A bubble of mirthless humour expanded in his chest. His daughter and his ex-lover were far more than just a ‘situation’. They changed everything. For himself and for his nation.
‘We need to talk about Maryam.’
In other circumstances he might have waited to bring the conversation around to her. He was conscious that Avril still grappled with the news of his memory loss. He knew the feeling. Every day it was a challenge. And now he’d learned he had a daughter! Not even a year trying to acclimatise to the massive holes in his memory had prepared him for that.
The accident had taken his father from him, robbed him of his memory, and the chance to be there for Maryam’s birth. The chance, too, to know her mother better.
But self-pity and time were luxuries he couldn’t afford. He needed to protect Avril and Maryam. Their situation left them vulnerable and he couldn’t allow that.
They also potentially provided Hafiz with ammunition to undermine Isam’s rule. His relative had come to covet the power he’d wielded while Isam was in hospital, but his focus was personal aggrandisement, not the nation’s well-being.
Avril didn’t look happy. ‘I thought you wanted to disown her, but now I understand your caution.’
He told himself not to take it personally. She was still grappling with their extraordinary situation.
One thing at least he could clarify. ‘I would never, under any circumstances, disown my child. I know what a precious gift she is. I intend to cherish her and give her the best life I can.’
He’d look after her as he hadn’t been able to look after Nur. His failure then was still a raw wound after all these years.
But instead of calming Avril’s anxieties, his words made her frown. ‘You make it sound like you’ll be raising her. She has a mother, remember.’
Isam looked at the woman who’d been at the centre of his waking thoughts and even his dreams since their meeting yesterday. It was amazing how much she’d got under his skin. But then that shouldn’t surprise him, now he knew he’d broken every self-imposed rule by sleeping with her. Whatever he’d felt for her a year ago had obviously been significant. Compelling.
‘Don’t worry, Avril. I’m fully conscious that you come as a pair. My amnesia encompasses past events only.’
Even now he could barely believe he’d forgotten this woman. The way his body responded to her, the way she drew his gaze and his thoughts...
Exactly what had been their relationship? How had they come together? He was desperate to know, but that would have to wait.
‘I’m just trying to reassure you that I intend to be involved in Maryam’s life and do all I can to support her, and you.’
Avril stiffened. ‘You think I’m looking for a handout?’
‘Anything but.’ He’d been told she initially hadn’t wanted to accept the assistant he’d arranged. Seeing the shadows of fatigue beneath her fine eyes, he was relieved she’d changed her mind. ‘I can see you’re proud and independent. It must have been taxing, being alone through your whole pregnancy, and now with a baby.’
Had she been alone? He didn’t know her family situation. As for her hooking up with another man since their night together...everything in him rejected the idea. That mightn’t be proof but he couldn’t believe it of her.
How do you know when you can’t remember her properly? Maybe Hafiz is right and the injury to your brain is worse than you want to believe.
Another idea Isam refused to countenance.
‘I wish I’d known and been able to support you.’
‘I...’ She sank back in her seat like a woman overcome by the barrage of shocks she’d received. ‘Thank you, Isam.’
He clenched his hands around the arms of his chair, resisting the impulse to rise and gather her close. To offer comfort. But he couldn’t. Whatever their relationship had once been, she’d given no indication she’d welcome his embrace, even a purely platonic one.
But your response to her is anything but platonic.
Another complicating factor in an already fiendishly difficult situation.
‘We still need to talk about Maryam.’
Instantly her chin shot up defensively. Then she nodded. ‘Yes. I’m sorry. I’m still getting used to...’ she waved a hand in his direction ‘...the truth about you. I thought you’d deliberately cut me off.’
‘There’s no need for apologies.’ He paused, not wanting to press the point but knowing it was imperative they move swiftly. ‘Obviously we have a lot to discuss and I don’t want to overload you today. You’ve had a lot to process.’
And you don’t want to scare her by declaring your intentions out loud.
For there was only one solution he could see to this situation. Marriage.
It didn’t matter that his country expected him to choose a bride familiar with Zahdar, its customs and language. A bride with some experience of a royal court and the pressures and expectations that would be placed on a royal sheikha.
It didn’t matter that, in the concern about his recovery and the future of the monarchy, a candidate for his bride had already been put forward. Though fortunately it had gone no further than that. Isam had agreed only to consider the suggestion, there’d been no announcement. Despite the increasing pressure from senior advisors that he needed to secure the succession soon.
Avril offered a small smile that made his belly tighten. ‘It has been a lot. I feel like a cushion that’s missing half its stuffing.’
‘I understand.’ He chose his words carefully. He had to take this one slow step at a time rather than spook her. ‘Unfortunately, I can’t stay in London. There are urgent reasons for me to return to Zahdar. But we need to discuss how we go forward and I don’t want to do that long-distance. We need to talk face to face so there are no misunderstandings. Our daughter’s future is too important. Do you agree?’
‘I do. I’ve spent a year wallowing in doubt about you, about us.’ She stopped, her eyes widening as if surprised at her use of the word us . As if she hadn’t written off their relationship.
He was startled too, given her earlier deep mistrust.
‘So when are you coming back to London?’
‘I’m afraid matters at home are such that I won’t be able to leave again for quite some time.’
‘You’re the King. Surely you can make it happen.’ She folded her arms. ‘If it’s important enough to you.’
If only it were that simple.
He could come and go if he wished but there was too much at stake for him to be out of the country for any length of time. Rashid had been emphatic that he could deal with the London situation, as he called it, alone, urging Isam to stay in Zahdar. But Isam had known he had to find out about Avril in person. It was part of finding out about himself.
Meanwhile Hafiz would take advantage of his absence to undermine him further if he could. Who knew what damage Hafiz was doing even now?
‘Believe me, Avril, I’m thinking about the long-term needs of Maryam, of you . Us. ’ He let that sink in and saw her eyes widen. ‘That’s my primary concern but at the same time it’s vital I return to Zahdar. So I have a proposition.’
‘Go on.’
‘Come back with me.’ He raised his hand to stop the protest he saw forming on her lips. ‘Please hear me before you object.’
Avril gave a small huff of impatience, her mouth forming a pout that should have looked obstinate and annoying. Yet it was so alluring it sparked a flare of heat low in his belly. A flare of hunger.
It was so instantaneous, so absolute, it took Isam a second to find his voice again.
‘Come to Zahdar. The pair of you. And your nanny. You can rest and get your strength back after what must have been a tough year. I’ll organise comfortable accommodation for you all. While you’re there we can take our time making plans for our daughter.’
He saw doubt writ large on her face. ‘Think of it as a well-earned holiday.’
Still she hesitated. ‘Surely that’s risking complications, us coming to your country? Wouldn’t it be better to talk here?’
Complications! She and Maryam were already complications that needed to be handled carefully, not just for his sake but for that of the monarchy and potentially the nation.
‘I can promise you private accommodation in Zahdar. If you stay here, I fear it won’t be long before the press start bothering you. I can’t totally protect you from that if you stay.’
‘The press!’ She looked horrified. ‘No one knows about us.’
He lifted tight shoulders and spread his hands. ‘Not yet. But since my accident I’m under immense scrutiny. People were concerned for a long time about whether I was fit to rule, given the severity of my injuries.’ He refused to use the word enemies. There was no need to scare her.
‘Sooner or later someone will take an interest in what I’ve been doing in London. They’ll make a connection to you, and Maryam. Then you’ll be hounded every time you step outside your door. Come with me, Avril. I promise to keep you both safe while we plan for the future.’