Page 30 of Unknown Royal Baby

The heat intensified in Avril’s cheeks. Not from embarrassment but from shame that she hadn’t thought about this from Isam’s perspective. The reality of memory loss was something she could barely conceive. He shouldn’t have to beg to find out more.

‘Of course. I’m sorry.’ She cleared her throat. ‘We worked together for several months before you came to London. Our working relationship was good. You trusted me and I handled the work well.’

‘I didn’t interview you in person?’

‘You did, but via a video call, after all I was going to be yourvirtualPA, working remotely. You also set me some tasks to do then assessed my performance.’ Still he didn’t look convinced. ‘My previous employer, Berthold Keller, recommended me to you. I’d worked for him for several years but he knew I wanted to work from home.’

Isam nodded. ‘Why did you want to work from home?’

Avril paused, fighting a natural instinct for privacy. But there was no harm in sharing this. Besides, guilt at being so thoughtless about his amnesia spurred her on. ‘I lived with my great-aunt. She was well in spirit and mind but growing physically frail. I wanted to be on hand to help her.’

‘She shares your house? I didn’t see her in London.’

Avril looked down at her hands, clenched in her lap. ‘Actually, I lived inherhouse. She raised me. But she died after I began working for you.’

‘I’m sorry for your loss, Avril. Was it after my time in London?’

She looked up to see dark pewter eyes fixed on her, full of sympathy. She drew a wobbly breath. ‘No, just before.’

He jerked back in his seat. ‘You were bereaved when we met in person? Did I know?’

‘You had no idea.’ It wasn’t something she’d wanted to speak about. ‘It was actually a relief to spend that week with you, concentrating on work rather than everything else.’

The funeral and its aftermath had left her drained. Did that explain her fixation with Isam? Her no-holds-barred need for him? Maybe her yearning had been some sort of reaction to grief.

So what’s your excuse now? Cilla’s been gone for more than a year and he only has to look at you to make you melt.

Avril lifted her head and discovered his expression was sombre. ‘I owe you an apology, Avril.’

She frowned. His amnesia explained why he hadn’t been in contact. ‘What for?’

‘For seducing you when you were my employee. For crossing a boundary that should never have been crossed. For taking advantage of you in your grief.’ He shook his head, his gaze leaving hers to fix on a point behind her. ‘For taking your innocence. My behaviour was—’

‘You’ve got it wrong!’ She leaned forward, aghast at his misunderstanding. ‘You didn’t seduce me. We... It was utterly mutual.’

‘Nevertheless, given our professional relationship—’

‘You’re not hearing me. We were both...attracted.’ What an anaemic word for that full-blooded, desperate craving. Avril didn’t have words to describe the urgent compulsion she’d felt that night. ‘We’d both been fighting it, and you were adamant we shouldn’t act on it, precisely because I worked for you. But I insisted. I wanted, needed you that night as I’d never needed anyone before.’

It was simultaneously terrifying and liberating to admit it. But seeing Isam’s anxiety over what he believed his unpardonable actions, she was determined to clear any misunderstanding. The man had suffered enough, losing his father and his memory, without adding to his misery.

It was a relief to know her original assessment of him was right. She’d spent most of the last year despising him for his apparent decision to cut her from his life. This proof of his true character reassured and warmed her.

Not for her own sake, since there’d be no going back to their fleeting relationship. But it was a relief to know Maryam’s father was a decent man.

‘You didn’t pressure me, Isam. On the contrary, you said no, but I wouldn’t listen. I understood your scruples. I knew it could be no more than a single night. But I—’

Had to have you.

‘I initiated it. I coaxed you into it.’

‘You’re sayingyouseducedme?’

Heat tinged her cheeks and ears. That made her sound like some femme fatale, alluring and confident. In fact she’d simply been desperate. She shrugged. ‘Yes.’

Those grey eyes were narrowed on her. What did he see? A weary mother with bags under her eyes. Hardly a temptress.

She shifted in her seat, uncomfortable, not with what she’d done that night, but knowing he was wondering why he’d slept with someone so ordinary. She’d seen the old media reports, the photos of him at high-profile events with glamorous, sophisticated women.

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