Page 48 of Modern Romance November 2024 5-8

That was quickly confirmed when, moments later, a call came through from the King.

‘Another week in London?’ he snapped.

‘Correct,’ Sahir told his father. ‘Thanks to the delays with the council over the palace refurbishment, I have a clear schedule.’

‘King Abdul has asked for a meeting. I was relying on you to take it.’

‘You have three heirs. Ibrahim or Jasmine can step up.’

‘Jasmine gets too worked up.’

‘I’m aware.’

‘And your brother is on vacation.’

Again?Sahir was tempted to say, but instead he offered a more personal response. ‘So am I.’

Yes, he was taking a vacation—his first week off in more than one hundred—and God it felt good.

‘I have to go now,’ Sahir informed his father.

As the car moved forward to enter the formal procession Sahir ended the conversation with the courtliness expected of him.

‘Your Majesty.’

Violet completelylovednot being a virgin!

Especially so when sitting propped up on cushions in Sahir’s sumptuous bed, eating the Florentines that had been served on a pretty plate!

‘Where on earth...?’ Violet had blinked when they’d arrived, then been told His Highness had arranged a delivery.

The only thing she had to worry about was deciding which movie to watch.

She flicked happily past all the news channels—misery had no place in this day. But then something, or rathersomeone, caught Violet’s attention and she quickly flicked back.

‘It’s me!’ she gasped.

It really was!

Florentines forgotten, Violet stared at herself on screen. Her head was thrown back and both arms stretched out, as if in salutation to the glorious morning. Her gorgeous gown billowed in the morning breeze.

Oh, she wished she could record the image—because it captured precisely how happy she felt, how perfect.

‘A glorious London morning,’ the plummy newsreader was saying. ‘And for our viewers just joining us, let’s take a quick look back—these are the first arrivals, making their way down The Mall.’

‘Oh, who cares?’ Violet muttered. ‘Get back to me.’

But then, realising that Sahir might be in one of the cars on screen, she found that she did care after all, and started trying to work out who was who.

However, she was vain enough to smile in delight when the camera cut back to her.

‘Somebody is clearly enjoying the view...’ the newsreader said.

They were talking about her, Violet realised as the camera zoomed in on the balcony. But her brief revelling in celebrity vanished, vanity forgotten, and her breath caught as on the screen the most beautiful man in the world stepped through the French windows. It was Sahir,kafiron, wearing his formal robes, and looking as delectable as ever.

Then they were back to the cars.

Was it vanity or lust that had her scouring the internet trying to find more images of them?

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