Chapter Eight #2
‘So you’re not angry with me?’ she asked, tentatively.
‘Angry with you?’ He’d been worried for her, nearly out of his mind with it, not angry with her. ‘No, Hana, I’m not. Why would I be?’ he demanded, belatedly realising that his tone had landed between them, well, angrily.
A small curve lifted the edges of her lips, easing just enough of the tension he’d felt, before the smile slowly disintegrated under her thoughts.
‘My family…they would often be angry when I messed things up. Their frustration showing in their silence, or sometimes just ignoring me. And in the last few days, you haven’t spoken to me,’ she said as though admitting something painful to her. ‘You haven’t even looked at me…’
Malik cursed. She thought he couldn’t look at her?
All he’d been doing for the last seven days was staring at her.
She was imprinted on the backs of his eyes.
He could have carved her face into marble, he knew it so well.
He’d been so distracted by her presence on the tour that it was taking everything in him to keep his focus on the meets and greets.
He’d dreamed of her, of her touch, of the heat of her body beside his, and was tortured each and every minute of the day by how much he’d wanted to stay with her that night in the royal suite—and how much he knew he couldn’t.
Hana saw the warring in Malik’s gaze. And dared to hope for just a moment that he felt it too.
The pull. The bond that had started on the island…
perhaps even before then. The way that she had been able to read his body, the urge he’d had to see her, to know whose touch had affected him so.
Instants that had made her breath hitch, her body throb and her heart ache.
She might be innocent, but she wasn’t naive.
She knew what her body was doing, how it warmed for him, yearned for something that she hadn’t yet known or experienced, but wanted nonetheless.
‘Unlike your family, I don’t have any excessive expectations of you.
This is new to us both and will take some time to get used to.
But, Hana, I will be angry if you don’t start taking care of yourself,’ he said.
As though she were important to him. As though he cared.
The thought warmed her heart, and then Malik stood so quickly that it unsettled her already weakened equilibrium.
‘We will leave.’
‘What? No, we can’t,’ Hana said, sitting up slowly as the ground shifted slightly beneath her feet and the conversation changed in an equally jarring manner.
‘The schedule was too much. Ehsan should never have arranged so many visits in such a short time.’
‘Malik, it will cause offense. I will be better after I have some tea and eat some food,’ she insisted, soothed greatly by the knowledge that he wasn’t embarrassed by her.
Malik picked up the plate Fatima had left on the side table and pressed it in to her hands.
She saw dainty cakes and savoury pastries and suddenly she was famished, her mouth watering at the first delicious inhalation of the scent of the food.
She looked up and caught sight of the scowl that put fear into Malik’s staff members and she scowled back, causing his brow to rise in surprise.
‘I’m not scared of you so you can’t boss me into doing what you want me to do. We are here to visit the people of your country,’ she said, lifting one of the small triangles of filled pastry and popping it into her mouth.
She just about resisted the urge to groan as deliciousness exploded across her tongue.
Distracted by the way the scowl dropped from his features, Hana saw a curve lift the corner of his mouth.
Malik didn’t fool her with his grumpy exterior.
He was a man who had allowed a wholly undeserved reputation to keep people in line.
But she didn’t want to be kept in line. She wanted to be his partner. In more ways than one.
He might have caught the blush that rose to her cheeks had she not turned aside to pour herself some tea.
Pleased that her hand didn’t shake the way that her insides did as she built, knocked down and rebuilt the impression of Malik as she got to know him a little better, she took a sip of the soothing drink and allowed it to warm her.
‘We will see out this visit, and then perhaps Ehsan could arrange some time for us to pause before moving onto the next,’ Malik bargained. ‘We are not far from the Summer Palace. It is only a few hours’ drive from here. We could be there by nightfall.’
Before they left Hadain, Malik made a concerted effort to involve her in the discussions with the councillors and their families.
This time, she didn’t get anyone’s name wrong and even got to play with some of the younger children.
Her eyes drifted back over to Malik throughout the few hours they spent there, before setting off for the Summer Palace.
Hana didn’t witness the conversation with Ehsan about the change in itinerary, but she could tell from the other man’s demeanour that it hadn’t been an easy one.
Malik surprised her by apologising that he had to spend the entire journey to the Summer Palace on his laptop.
But honestly, Hana didn’t mind at all. She just felt easier with him beside her this time.
She liked the way that he focused on his work.
With no one else there to see him, his expressions were easy for her to read.
Irritated, bored, frustrated. No more of that little lift at the corner of his mouth, but that didn’t matter so much.
He was either unaware of her open perusal or not affected by it, which suited her just fine because it allowed her to continue to watch him.
They travelled with the sun as half of the cavalcade continued south towards Merkeh, the city that would have been their next destination.
As the sun began to descend over the swathes of sand dunes stretching out in all directions, she marvelled at the beauty of it.
The untamedness of it, as if they were intruding on the desert’s serenity.
Omrhain’s landscape was greener with trees and forests and agriculture stretching up towards the mountain range on the western border.
This? This was powerful, harsh, unforgiving and utterly majestic and enthralling, so much like the man who cared for it until the heir to the throne could lead his country.
And she wondered if that hurt. To know that his rule and role were temporary, that eventually his country, like his parents and his first fiancée, would cast him aside.
Her heart ached for him. But before she could even dare to voice the question, the car pulled into a slow arc and passed beneath a dark red stone gate and she caught her first glimpse of the Summer Palace, which, she realised, was just as incredible as the desert it had been built in.
Malik had always preferred the Summer Palace to the one in the capital of Al Surrahin.
In part, because he had spent time here with Ishmail.
Here no area was off limits to him. As children, these were the corridors that they’d run in and played in and laughed in.
Magical times for Malik, who had never felt anything but affection from the boy who could have been resentful from his birth.
He’d braced himself for that familiar twinge of guilt as the car entered the courtyard, worried that the memories of his brother would hurt.
That by coming here, Malik would feel his absence more keenly.
But instead, Malik was surprised to feel something like ease enter his heart as passed through the large set of wooden doors that had been opened for them.
I’m glad you came here, his brother’s voice said.
We were happy here.
Yes, we were.
‘Are you okay?’ Hana asked, and he turned to find her steady gaze on him.
‘Mmm,’ he replied, feeling that strange pull at the corner of his mouth from her concern for him. ‘It’s been a while since I’ve been here.’
They exited the car and Hana looked around. He wondered what she saw, what she thought of the large stone structure that had survived world wars, and hundreds of years, weathering them all with a kind of beautiful permanence.
They were greeted eagerly by Mahmood, the head of the Summer Palace staff, an older man he remembered from his youth. The joy in his eyes not only when he looked at Hana, but also himself, touched him more than Malik could have imagined.
‘We have prepared your suites as well as refreshments. But we have also prepared the baths and have staff on hand should you need any treatments or assistance,’ explained Mahmood.
‘Baths?’ Hana asked, looking excitedly between Malik and Mahmood.
‘Yes, Your Highness. It’s the palace’s jewel,’ Mahmood confided as if it were some state secret that he was entrusting her with.
‘Refreshments first,’ Malik commanded.
‘But—’