Page 12 of Unknown Royal Baby

Avril inclined her head. ‘Yes, we’ve met.’

Was it imagination or was there a ripple of reaction to that? No, not a ripple. More a sudden stillness, as if her words put them all on alert.

Probably imagination. She made an effort to get a grip. There, that was better. A slow breath out as she clasped the arms of her leather chair. She was in control of herself now. The worst moment was over.

They’d seated her on the opposite side of the table. As if for an interview. Did they think to intimidate her with formality?

Her attention returned to Isam, directly opposite. He leaned sideways as his companion murmured something. Without his steely gaze on her she scanned his features, stunned at the changes in him and even more at how familiar he was. Her fingers twitched as if remembering the smooth flesh of his back and rounded buttocks, or clutching at his thick, surprisingly soft hair as they kissed.

His cheekbones were the same, sharply defined with angles a camera, or a besotted woman, would love. His mouth was pursed rather than relaxed and his nostrils flared as if something annoyed him.

But what caught her attention were the deep grooves carved around his mouth. The lines at his eyes hinted now at pain rather than pleasure. And of course the scars. A web of them at one side of his brow, extending up into his hairline.

Simmering anger disappeared, replaced by dismay. She’d known he was injured in the helicopter crash that killed his father soon after Isam’s return to Zahdar. But seeing the evidence brought a sharp, iron taste to her tongue.

It took a moment to realise she’d bitten her lip in distress.

When the accident happened she’d been frantic with worry. The Zahdari press had provided little insight into his condition. Every press release from the palace had seemed designed to obfuscate.

But eventually there’d been good news. Reports of the new Sheikh out of hospital, recuperating privately. Then of him taking up the reins of government. Then a few photo opportunities showing him at a distance, usually consulting with elders or opening some new facility.

Abruptly Isam turned and she felt the force of his stare like an assault. It seemed to drive right into her, probing and analysing. Threatening to shatter the hard-fought-for equilibrium she’d finally achieved.

What did he want from her?

‘Thank you for coming today, Ms Rodgers.’ It was the man with the round face and glasses who spoke. ‘His Majesty is reviewing his interests in the UK, hence today’s meeting.’

Did you really expect him to come here to take up where you left off that night? To see how you were? If you were okay?

Pursing her lips, she inclined her head. She’d known this would be a business meeting.

She still had to work out how she could get time alone with Isam. Despite her deep-seated disgust at his behaviour, there were things she needed to say. Things that weren’t for the ears of strangers.

‘If you don’t mind, we’ll start with your position.’

Avril started. Her position? Her gaze darted to Isam’s but his steady stare was blank. She breathed deep.

She lifted her chin. Two could play at being aloof. ‘What do you want to know?’

She kept her focus on Isam but again it was the man beside him who spoke. ‘Your role, for a start.’

That wrenched her attention to him. ‘I’m His Majesty’s PA in the United Kingdom.’

‘His Majesty hasn’t given you any instructions for some time. Yet you continue to draw a salary.’

It was the thin man on Isam’s other side who spoke, the one who looked as if he’d swallowed a lemon. He made it sound like an accusation, as if Avril had done something wrong, stealing from the royal coffers instead of struggling to manage responsibilities beyond her remit because her boss had lost interest in his enterprises here and cut off communication.

Her hackles rose. It certainly wasn’t her fault!

‘I’m afraid that’s something you need to take up with His Majesty, not me.’ She turned to skewer Isam with a glare that should have pinned his worthless hide to his chair.

‘Since his last visit I’ve managed as best I can. I was given clear parameters about regular auditing of and reporting from his UK enterprises. There are quite of few of them.’ And not all had been happy at the lack of direct contact from Isam, leaving her to handle their expectations when she herself didn’t know what to expect. ‘You’ll find full updates and progress reports in my regular emails.’

As well as her desperate appeals for him to contact her. All of which remained unanswered. Her chest rose on a shuddering breath but she sat straight, shoulders back and chin up.

Still Isam said nothing, yet she saw a flash of something in his expression that told her he wasn’t as cool as he appeared. Good! He deserved to squirm, ignoring her calls and emails. Presumably, too, informing his staff not to accept any call she made to the palace.

She’d spent too long and given up too much of her pride trying to contact him. She wasn’t in the mood to put up with any more nonsense.

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