Page 106 of Modern Romance November 2024 5-8

He stopped. And as his eyes lifted Violet saw agony. She knew then just how serious this conversation was, especially with Layla and Maaz so close.

‘Perhaps we could speak in private,’ she said.

‘Thank you.’

She was shaking as he led her out, and yet still she did not want to break the King’s confidence, unsure just how much Sahir knew.

‘We’re not staying in the same suite they did...’ he told her.

Her eyes widened. ‘I’m not staying at all,’ she corrected. ‘We’re just talking.’

‘Of course.’

He opened a door, and the second it closed behind them she turned frantic eyes to him.

‘The King is okay,’ he said. ‘Although last week they thought he needed surgery.’

‘Where?’

‘On his brain.’

She started to cry.

‘Violet, it’s going to be treated with radiation, and the tumour is very slow-growing. We pray he’s going to be okay, but I couldn’t come to you straight away.’

‘Of course not.’

‘I had to sort things out.’

‘I know.’

‘Come on.’

She walked into his suite and never before had she felt as if she was coming home. Here, in a hotel she’d never been to, for the first time in her life she felt as if she were home.

There were pale pink tulips in vases... And on the television screen there she was—standing on his balcony, her dress shimmering in the morning sun... And there was a trolley with the entire dessert menu laid out on it... And then she gasped, because on the mantelpiece there was a photo of her, with Sahir standing behind her, watching her.

‘I’ve never been on someone’s mantelpiece.’

There were little pieces of her everywhere.

‘My favourite tea,’ she said, and smiled, opening the jar.

‘In case you decide to stay a little while.’

‘I’m too needy to be a mistress. And I’m not just being moral—honestly, I’ll be the most dreadful, demanding...’

‘I only want you,’ Sahir told her. ‘You come first.’

Those words stopped her from speaking, from breathing. It was as if a terror she hadn’t even known had left her.

‘Hold out your hand.’

‘Stop it.’

She wasn’t sure this was happening—especially when he told her to place her palm up.

‘Here...’ He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out not a ring, but a vial. In her palm she felt a cold sensation. Opening her eyes, she stared at the small heap of orange sand from his land.

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