Chapter 11
Masai Mara National Reserve, Kenya
It didn’t make sense. Prince Rayan was vigilant about staying with her, guiding her to this site and that outcropping, while fastened to her side.
Notably, he’d done everything in his power to ensure Apollo kept his distance.
Which she did not like. At all. When they’d boarded the private jet at Wilson Airport to fly to the Masai Mara National Reserve, Prince Rayan had instructed her to sit next to him, while Aliyah continued sequestering Apollo with herself two rows up, her incessant chatter like fingers on a chalkboard.
There was only one reason they were keeping her and Apollo separated—and it wasn’t about jealousy. It was about controlling her movement. Or more correctly—controlling her.
Unless…something had come to the royals’ attention. About Apollo. Or maybe her. What other explanation was there for separating and distracting them?
“I have spoken with Maaz,” Rayan said, his voice low as he leaned across the leather arm of his seat to edge closer.
Wary, she eyed him. What good could come of a chat with the ever-irritated crown prince? Especially in relation to her.
“Since you are a member of House Zahrani,” Rayan continued, “you will be moved to your own suite at the palace—one bigger than the small one you shared with the bodyguard.” He smiled as if he’d just handed her the entire world on a silver platter.
“It is wonderful, is it not? You will be closer to me—to us, the family.”
Family? Was he out of his skull? There was no family here—not any she wanted to be a part of.
But those dark eyes held her fast, and around the amber glints lurked a warning.
Act grateful. It took everything in her to maintain a neutral facade.
Prayed hard her expression wasn’t writhing in the disgust she felt at her core.
She should act surprised. “Uh…”
Brain, exit stage right.
Leighton had no idea what to say. No words to speak.
What he suggested—having her own suite in the palace—should be a good thing.
Yet it was such a small concession in a palace with hundreds of rooms. Why should it be earned or celebrated?
Especially since she would still be a prisoner.
Told when to come, when to go. That this even had to be discussed between two princes…
Say something before you give away your true feelings. “And you did this?” Hopefully that did not sound as much like an accusation to him as it did to her.
“Of course,” Rayan said, seemingly pleased she’d noticed. “I do not like the restricted privileges they have imposed on you. How are you to acclimate to this life if you are not given opportunities to do so? I have made him see this.”
Oh, good heavens. Was he serious? Acclimate?
“You are too kind,” she made herself say, sure that’s what he’d intended—to do her a kindness—but being housed in the royal apartments would mean she’d be close to the royals, which meant it’d be easier for them to monitor and scrutinize her every move.
To have their condemning gazes searing her every moment of the day.
No, thank you!
“Sadly,” Rayan said gently, “I could not dissuade him against a constant escort.” He exhaled as if it affected him. “Nor the lock and key.”
Leighton fought the urge to scoff. What good would it do to have her own room in the royal apartments if she were still locked up like a prisoner every time?
This was not better or even more freedom.
It was…the same prison, different wing. The only good thing that he had told about her future at Omnia Palace was the escort—Apollo. And that made her heart happy.
A burst of laughter from ahead drew their attention to Aliyah, who was leaning into Apollo’s personal space.
“Respect yourself, Aliyah!” Crown Prince Maaz snapped, his expression dark and forbidding as he then sneered at Owen. “An honorable man would not allow a woman to humiliate herself.”
Breath caught at the accusation against her protector, Leighton watched—as much as possible, considering she could only see his profile between the seats, but Owen merely looked out the portal-shaped window of the plane.
Oh, she hated that his character was being challenged. There was one of the best men—if not the best man—she had ever met. The truth of that shuddered through her. If he was the best man…why wasn’t she trusting him more?
Should she let him get her out of here? Before it was too late and she was sequestered among the royals in their wing back at Omnia?
When more laughter trilled from the princess, Leighton tensed on her behalf, expecting violence from Maaz. Sure enough, the crown prince shoved to his feet, arm drawn back, ready to strike her.
In a flash, Apollo pitched himself into the line of fire between Aliyah and her cousin, holding out his hands to defuse the situation. “She hears you. We’re all a bit tired…”
The very air from the cabin seemed to evacuate at his intervention.
Lungs constricting as Maaz faced off with Apollo, Leighton tensed. “Oh no,” she murmured.
“This is the captain speaking,” a deep, distinctly American voice came over the speaker. “We have begun our descent and will be on the ground in twenty minutes. Flight attendants, prepare the cabin for landing.”
The announcement gave Apollo and Maaz the needed excuse to back down without losing face. Both men stepped backwards and reclaimed their seats.
Leighton expelled a pent-up breath.
“He should be more careful,” Rayan whispered solemnly. “Maaz is not one to anger.”
“I am well aware.” As was her cheekbone.
Yet, she was not really worried, because she had a feeling Apollo was solid competition for the surly prince.
While she had not experienced his anger, she had witnessed a modicum of it.
Never would she forget how his broad shoulders had swelled into view as he rushed to protect her from Nasir.
It’d been such a simple thing, but he had protected her.
Just as he had now protected Aliyah.
So…maybe his protective instinct was just about protecting those who could not do it for themselves. Not about attraction to her. It was just how he was wired. Which was a good thing. Admirable. So why was she so disappointed?
The scorching impact of the plane’s tires on the runway startled her.
“You are safe,” Rayan said, covering her hand with his.
Stomaching churning at his touch, Leighton pushed her gaze to the industrial-grade carpet. Why must he be so—
Finger beneath her chin, Rayan nudged it upward. “With me, you do not have to do that.”
Oh, for heaven’s sake. This should be good, him assuring her that he didn’t want her cowering.
It helped Leighton solidify a couple of things.
One, she did not want his attention. Second, even if he was kind—kinder, as Owen pointed out—and not prone to violence, she definitely did not want him touching her.
But this was not about her. This was about Ummi. So Leighton managed a smile that felt awkward at best, earning a pleased nod from him and the removal of his touch.
A shaky breath staggered through her, and she swallowed again. Sat back as the plane taxied, her gaze finding Apollo’s, whose brows and mouth were taut. He looked ready to kill. Apparently he liked the prince touching her as little as she did.
A few minutes later, everyone deboarded, and she made her way toward the waiting SUVs, too aware of the prince’s movements.
Did her best to navigate away from him because this was too unsettling.
Playing the submissive, subservient, invisible nothing to these royals was one thing.
But having the attention of one determined prince could only lead one place, and that was not happening.
She recalled Owen suggesting Rayan might have marriage on his mind.
At first, she’d thought him crazy, but he was right, wasn’t he?
Where else would Rayan’s attention lead?
Please God…please. I can’t do that.
“Nouri.” Apollo circled behind her, touching her spine. “This way.”
Grateful for the direction that pulled her away from the royals, she turned to him. Followed him into one of the vehicles, hoping Rayan didn’t notice or intervene. “Thank you,” she whispered. Felt a twitch to hurry into the vehicle before they could be thwarted.
Seaborn eyes locked on to her. His brow furrowed. “You o—”
“I wondered where you went,” another voice intruded.
Leighton flinched and looked to her left, where Rayan climbed in from the other side and took the seat next to her.
Good night! The guy could not take a hint.
He draped his arm over the back of the seat…around her shoulders. “My apologies,” he said, indicating his arm, “but it is crowded with three in this row.”
“Crowded or not, I’m surprised you’re willing to risk the crown prince’s anger,” Apollo said as he sandwiched her on the right.
“Be concerned with yourself, Mr. Apollo.”
“Oh, I am—King Faruq charged me with her protection, and I don’t appreciate anyone making her a target of the prince’s anger.”
Because of the prince’s close proximity, she felt him tense. And that made her tense. She looked out the right passenger window. The vehicle lurched forward, giving her time to glower at Apollo for getting into a testosterone war with the prince. “Please, stop.”
His expression went tight as those blue eyes considered her, looking both concerned and wounded.
She knew—he was only trying to defend her. Protect her. But she had been protecting herself a lot longer and knew how to navigate tricky situations like this.
But she wanted Apollo to know she appreciated his efforts on her behalf, so she gave him a soft nudge with her shoulder and stayed there. Not because of attraction—liar—but to put distance between herself and Rayan. That seemed to assuage Apollo’s wounded ego, because he gave a clipped nod.