Page 43 of At the Sheikh's Bidding
And he had. Amare knew his brother’s diplomatic work overseas, while Darrius had been king, had been exceptional.
Amare sat back in his seat again and rubbed his eyes. He’d spent a sleepless night alone after an evening of texting Janey and leaving messages with no reply. He’d knocked on her door, called her name, apologized through the door, but still there had been no response. He only knew she was still there because palace administration confirmed she hadn’t left.
“Okay. So what should I do?”
“Grovel, of course. But that should go without saying.”
Amare frowned. “I’ve never groveled for anything, to anyone, in my life!”
“You’d best learn quick then. If Janey is what you say she is to you, then you need to learn how to grovel. The lady is always right.”
Amare grunted. “In this case, she is.”
“If you love her, she’salwaysright,” Zaire emphasized.
Amare narrowed his eyes as he searched his brother’s face. He knew very little about Zaire’s past. They’d been brought up separately and had spent most of their adult life apart, too. There was something in Zaire’s response which made Amare think his brother hadn’t led such a charmed life as he’d supposed.
“Okay. Grovel. You think that will make things right?”
“Hm, not completely. If Janey is as you say she is, she takes her work very seriously. You’re going to have to address the issue she’s upset about. Try to put things right.”
“Yes, I’ve been thinking about that. The other researchers are from the Sorbonne. They were working on an archaeological dig and only included the harem stuff on a whim. They may be persuaded to work with Janey on this.”
“Perfect. Get Janey to Paris and sort it out. Problem solved.” Zaire sat forward and rang a buzzer.
It was clear the meeting was over. Amare rose and went to the door, and turned around. “Thanks, Zaire. And if I can ever return the favor, let me know.”
“That won’t be necessary. I’ve got everything sorted.”
“Everything?”
Was it Amare’s imagination or did a shadow pass over Zaire’s face? If it did, it quickly cleared.
“Of course,” said his brother, the king decisively.
But, as Amare walked away, he couldn’t help but wonder what it was in his brother’s past which had caused that brief look of profound sadness to break through his usually impassive expression.
* * *
Janey glared at her phone.Her sadness had turned to anger as the night had worn on. She couldn’t bear to see Amare while she’d been upset, but now she felt angry she most definitelydidwant to see him. So when the phone rang and his name flashed up on the screen, she took only one moment to draw in a breath—deep enough to give him a piece of her mind—before picking up the phone.
“And how the hell you have the nerve to keep pestering me after what you’ve done, I do not know!” she blasted him before he had a chance to speak.
“Because I’m stupid,” he said. “Because I’m sorry, and, most of all, I deeply regret what I did.” He paused as if waiting for the next tirade, but she was speechless. She’d expected him to defend himself. After all, he wasn’t he a controlling, conceited bastard? “And most of all, I’m so sorry.” he continued. “I should have told you right from the beginning.”
“That’s right,” she said, the anger deflating into nothing. “You should.”
“Can we meet? I want to discuss something with you. Something which might, justmight, go some way to making reparation for what I’ve done.”
Her interest was piqued, and her mind ran in multiple ways at once, trying to figure out what he meant. “Okay. I guess so.”
“Good.” She could hear the relief in his voice. “You know the gardens outside—”
“No gardens. Nothing romantic or remotely seductive. If you want to make a reparation, it has to be business.”
“Okay. The meeting room off the main palace reception area. At eleven?”
“Okay,” she said, again surprised that he didn’t resist her suggestion.
