Page 20 of Her Vow to Be His Desert Queen

‘You will have to.’ He didn’t bother to hide the curt note in his voice. ‘I cannot afford any more time away.’

Anger sparked in her gaze. ‘Well, neither can I. If you need to get back, why don’t you go and I can join you in a few—?’

‘No,’ he interrupted with all the steel of the King he was. ‘You will be accompanying me and that is final.’ She had to be with him when he arrived; that was non-negotiable. The correct form had to be observed if Sidonie was to be accepted as his queen, and for that she had to arrive with him.

‘Why? What’s wrong with our arriving separately?’

She was standing far too close to him and he couldn’t help but notice that his fingers had pulled some silky red curls from her bun. They drifted around her neck, drawing attention to her pale, creamy skin and the tender hollow of her throat. A couple of buttons on her shirt were undone too and it would only take a couple of flicks of his fingers to open it completely and expose her to his gaze...

Desire tightened inside him once more, coiling and knotting, encouraging him to forget his control and take her here, now. Make her his. But he ignored it. This was not the right time or the right place, and he would do nothing to jeopardise their eventual marriage. No matter how much his body was urging him otherwise.

‘We have certain customs that I must adhere to,’ he said, forcing away the heat inside him.

‘What customs? I’m just a visitor, Khalil, and presumably you don’t have to accompany every visitor to Al Da’ira.’

If they kept going down this road they would have another argument, and yet more time would be wasted. His boundaries would be pushed and his temper further eroded. He couldn’t allow that, not when he was on edge already.

‘This is not up for discussion,’ he said flatly, done with the conversation. ‘You may contact your people from the jet. Alternatively one of my staff will contact them on your behalf.’

It was clear she wasn’t happy with that, because an angry flush had crept into her cheeks. ‘Irunthe charity. You do remember that, don’t you? I don’t need “one of your staff” to contact my own employees.’

No, he hadn’t remembered, and he should have, especially given all the discussions they’d had about her plans for starting a charity back in university. She’d been unsure of herself back then, but he’d encouraged her to follow her dreams. Because beneath that uncertainty she had drive and ambition, and he’d known she’d be brilliant at it.

He was annoyed with himself for forgetting, but his distance over the years had been deliberate, and there was no use regretting it. He’d made the decision to cut off all contact, and he couldn’t go back and change it, even if he’d wanted to, which he didn’t. He never second-guessed himself, never hesitated. Never let doubt undermine him. He couldn’t afford to, not after Yusuf’s death.

‘Then you may contact them yourself,’ he said. ‘I do not care how you do it. But wewillleave tonight regardless.’

Sidonie opened her mouth, but he carried on. ‘One hour, Sidonie. Be ready.’

Then he strode past her and left her standing on the terrace staring after him.

CHAPTER FIVE

SIDONIEGROUNDHERteeth with annoyance, watching Khalil’s tall, broad figure disappear through the French doors.

She didn’t like the man he’d become, not at all. He was insufferable.

‘I knew my friend. I knew him very well, but you aren’t him, are you?’

Her own words drifted back to her, as did his reply. ‘No. Not any more.’

That old grief pulsed inside her again, at the loss of the friend she’d once had. And it was clear that friend really had gone. But what she didn’t understand was why.

What had happened to him? Why did Khalil feel he couldn’t be him any more?

She turned away from staring at the door he’d just walked through, returning to the edge of the terrace and that view of Paris, trying to get a handle on the complicated mix of anger and loss that sat inside her.

He’d been so dismissive of her life and its requirements back in England. As if he hadn’t sat with her all those nights in her rooms, going over her plans for the charity. Giving her advice and support, encouraging her. Believing in her.

Had he just...what? Forgotten about all of it? Forgotten that this had been her dream, and that he’d been a huge part in helping her find the confidence to reach for it?

The Khalil she remembered would never have forgotten. He wouldn’t have swept grandly back into her life as if he still occupied the same space in it after five years of silence, either. The Khalil she remembered would have talked to her, would have listened to her concerns, and if she’d said no he’d have accepted it.

But as she’d told herself so many times already, as he’d even admitted himself, he wasn’t that Khalil.

Can you blame him for putting his people and his country first?

No, she couldn’t. He’d often told her that was what being a king was all about, the needs of his nation put before everything and everyone else, including himself. She’d thought it had sounded far too black and white, and that surely a king had to see to his own needs at some time, otherwise how could he look after everyone else? He’d accepted that, but even then, it was clear he didn’t really believe it.

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