Page 59 of Desert King's Forbidden Temptation

Tariq did nothing at first to ease her discomfort, but rather, stared at her, reading her face like an open book. It was abundantly clear he’d just floored his mother.

‘It’s not possible,’ she said after a long moment. ‘We were assured you were the sole survivor. It’s why we brought you with us. I couldn’t bear the thought of you alone. We were assured everyone else had died, told that there was no one available for foster care—you were going to be placed in a home once you left hospital.Ifyou left hospital. How could I have left you there, Tariq?’

A muscle jerked in his jaw; even his name was a wrenching discomfort to him. It was nothisname, not the name he’d been given at birth, and yet it was who he was now. ‘You were lied to.’

‘It can’t be.’ Her downward lips showed how perplexed she was. ‘Why would anyone do that?’

‘You were prepared to donate a considerable amount in exchange for my quick adoption, were you not?’

Her eyes swept shut, all the colour drained from her face. ‘The hospital was underfunded. Your father and I wanted to help.’

He could well believe their altruism.

She stood, agitated, fidgeting her hands. ‘And naturally, given your father’s place in the royal family, we wanted things to happen quickly and quietly.’ She groaned, shaking her head in obvious distress. ‘But if I’d known about your brother, I would never have—no, that’s not right. I would have brought both of you. I would have wrapped him in my arms and carried him here, caring for you both.’ She moved closer to Tariq. ‘When I saw your little body in the hospital bed, all I could think of was your mother.’ Her voice grew thick with tears. ‘They say the pain of losing a child is the worst thing in the world.’ She pressed her fingers to her chest. ‘But the pain of a mother leaving a child, of not knowing how their child will be cared for, of missing all the milestones, of not being able to tuck her little one into bed at night, to laugh with you...’ Tears fell down her face. ‘The moment I saw you, I made your mother a promise in my mind. I would love you. I would care for you. I would make sure you lived a good, rich, wonderful life. I would give you everything their deaths had put in jeopardy. You were mine, Tariq, from that moment.’

It was impossible not to feel the truth of that sentiment, not to acknowledge that she had acted from a place of love.

‘But in your haste to care for me, he was left behind. We were separated.’

She pressed her palm to her mouth. ‘I had no idea.’ She hesitated. ‘I know it must be hard to believe me. We kept this truth from you for a long time.’ A hint of anger coloured the words, anger, Tariq imagined that was aimed at his father, who’d been determined Tariq should not know about his birth. ‘It was a decision we made out of love—we wanted to spare you the pain of feelingdifferent. Then you’d have those nightmares, and I knew you were, somehow, remembering the accident, that your little heart had watched your parents die in the most gruesome way, that you’d been trapped and unable to help them. Then, I wanted to save you from having to relive that. You were happy with us. We loved you so much, and you us. What good was there in stirring up the past by telling you about Spain?’

‘Apart from the fact I had a fundamental right to know who I am?’

‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘Something I came to accept as you aged. For the most part, you are so like your father, but every now and again, I’d see a gesture or an expression, one I wouldn’t recognise, and I’d wonder about the people who’d given you life. But never once did it occur to me that you might have family that survived.’

‘Well, my brother did.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Because this afternoon, I met him.’

She gasped. ‘He’s here? In Savisia?’

He dipped his head.

‘Oh, my darling.’ Her hand cupped his cheek, but she said nothing more.

‘This will come out,’ he said, gently, as if to warn her. ‘Too many people know the truth now.’

She flinched. ‘How do you feel about that?’

His nostrils flared. ‘I would rather live with the fallout than walk through any more lies. I’m ready for it, Mother. Are you?’

Dawn broke across the desert, the sky reassuringly familiar, even when all the major compass points of his world had shifted overnight.

He had replayed his conversation with Eloise over and over, analysing it from every angle, studying her facial expressions and the tone of her voice, trying to make sense of what she wanted and needed, trying to find an answer beyond the impossible to contemplate: that she wouldn’t see him again.

There was one point on which he felt he could persuade her.

The prospect of her living in Savisia if he promised they wouldn’t touch each other again. It was better to have her in his life in any capacity, as his own advisor, as a friend, than to lose her completely. While it was difficult to imagine that life, to imagine being near her and not wanting to have her, it would simply require discipline.

He was determined not to lose her, particularly not now, when his life was in such a state of flux. He needed her.

He dressed quickly, opting for a dark thobe without realising it—perhaps subconsciously he feared the worst?—then strode through the halls of his palace, until he reached his office. As soon as he arrived, he lifted the phone.

‘Please have Miss Ashworth of the Ras Sarat delegation brought to me here as a matter of importance. We have business to discuss.’

He disconnected the call and began to wait, eyes practically burning a hole in the door in anticipation of her arrival.

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