Page 61 of Desert King's Forbidden Temptation

‘The car drove her to the airport, where she had a seat booked on a commercial airline, to take her home.’

Tariq jerked his face up, eyes piercing Jamil. ‘Sheflew?’

A thousand feelings erupted inside of him. Foremost, the realisation that she must have been absolutely desperate to escape to even contemplate flying, given the depth of her fear. And then, the thought of her up in the air, afraid, with no one to hold her, no one to tell her it would be okay, no one to care for her.

He groaned softly, spinning away from Jamil’s penetrating gaze, focusing on the lightening sky, the dawn of a day that would not include Eloise.

He found himself in her suite shortly after that. No one had cleaned it yet, and the air retained a hint of her fragrance, so his gut twisted and hurt as though he’d been punched hard.

He moved to her bed, and ran his fingers over it, imagining her here, sleeping, turning, dreaming of him. To her bathroom, where there was no sign of occupation, no toiletries remaining, everything perfectly neat and tidy, to the lounge room, and a little desk that overlooked the citrus grove. His eyes fell to approximately the spot they’d stood in the first day he’d met her on his horse and his gut jumped.

Slowly, he tore his eyes away, focusing on the desk, where a single white, sealed envelope was laid out, with his name written neatly on the front.

Not his name, but rather his title, to give, he presumed, the impression of the note containing official business. He lifted and opened it in one motion, fingers moving deftly.

T,

To stay in Savisia and be anything other than what we were in the desert would be a pain too intense to bear. To share you, to see you live your life publicly with anyone else, to have a family with them—these are things I want for you, but that I cannot stand by and witness. If I only loved you less.

You will be a wonderful husband. Please, take care of her.

Best wishes always

E

He scrunched up the note, keeping it balled in his fist, and stormed through the palace, face darker than a storm cloud, eyes flashing lightning.

‘But it’s so far away,’ Elana decried, and with good reason. The two had always promised they’d stay together, remaining inseparable until they were little old grannies.

‘It’s only a year,’ Eloise said. ‘The opportunity came up while I was away and I knew you’d be happy for me,’ she added a teasing tone to her voice, even though she was dying inside. The flight out of Savisia had been traumatic enough, let alone that she was leaving Tariq and any idea of seeing him again. And now? Hours later, she was telling her best friend that she was returning to London to take up a fictional dream job, simply because she couldn’t bear to live with the guilt of what she’d done.

‘I am, of course,’ Elana said quickly, frowning. ‘But—’

‘You will have more than enough to occupy you in the coming months, Your Highness.’

Elana’s face paled. ‘Of course. My marriage.’

‘Yes,’ Eloise busied herself pouring tea rather than showing how the mention of such a marriage affected her. ‘Your marriage, that’s right. You’ll be Crown Princess of Ras Sarat and Sheikha of Savisia. Your time will be well and truly taken up.’

‘But how will I navigate all that without you?’

‘You’ll have His Highness,’ Eloise said, and for a moment, she was glad for her friend, because Tariq was truly a wonderful person and he would be a good husband. She tamped down her own feelings, relegating them to the back of her mind.

‘And you really think this is what I should do?’

‘I think it’s important for your kingdom,’ she said quietly. ‘And for his.’

‘Will you at least stay until the wedding?’

‘I’m so sorry...’ Her voice faltered. ‘They’ve asked for me to start as soon as possible. I was planning to leave today.’

‘But you just got back!’

‘I know. It sucks.’

‘You’re just too in demand, my dear friend. Do you have time to finish breakfast at least?’

She wasn’t hungry, but she nodded anyway, reluctant to leave Ras Sarat and Elana, even when she knew she must.

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