Page 22 of Her Vow to Be His Desert Queen

It was ridiculous. It hadn’t even been an hour since he’d walked off the terrace and already she was excited at the thought of seeing him again. Not a good sign when she should be trying to ring Bethany, her personal assistant, to let her know she was having an unexpected break and to reschedule her meetings, plus check to make sure she didn’t have any events planned for the next two weeks.

Except all she did was sit there, staring at the entrance of the little sitting area she was in, waiting for him to arrive.

But he didn’t.

Even after the jet had taken off and they were at cruising altitude, he didn’t show.

She made her calls, Bethany assuring her that a sudden two-week holiday was no problem at all, and in fact Sidonie probably needed it, so she wasn’t to worry about anything.

Sidonie found it a little disconcerting that two weeks could pass without her being needed, but, since she was already in the air and flying to her destination, there wasn’t much she could do about it but be glad it wasn’t a problem.

She’d need to tell her team about his being on board to be patron, but she could do that once she had a formal agreement from him.

It was an overnight flight and, after dinner had been served and she’d eaten, a steward showed her to a bedroom that included a king-sized bed with luxurious white sheets for her to sleep in. She wondered if she should refuse on principle, but then decided that was silly. She was officially on holiday now and so why not avail herself of a bed in a private jet?

Khalil still hadn’t appeared and she worried that she wasn’t going to sleep while obsessing about him, but she must have been more tired than she thought, because she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

She slept like the dead and the next thing she knew she was being woken by a stewardess, who told her that they were two hours out of Al Da’ira, and that she could avail herself of the bathroom facilities, which included a shower. His Majesty had also provided fresh clothes for her to wear. Because of course he had.

Sidonie stared at the dress that had been laid out on the small couch near the bed, the leaf-green silk contrasting vividly with the cream of the leather. It was beautiful, designed to wrap around her torso before flowing out into full, floaty skirts that dropped from her hips.

Her throat tightened, aching suddenly. She should be irritated at him for again arrogantly providing her with clothing that she had no doubt would fit perfectly, as would the lacy green silk bra and knickers that had also been provided. But she wasn’t.

The lonely child she’d once been had never had anything bought for her. She’d had to wear clothes that were too small and shoes that were too tight, because her aunt hadn’t noticed her growing. And even when Sidonie had told her that she couldn’t fit into her clothes any more, her aunt had acted as if she was making a fuss over nothing. There had never been birthday presents. Never been Christmas presents. Only the bare minimum had been provided and she was expected to be grateful.

But this...this was not the bare minimum. This dress was beautiful, in a colour she loved, and in her size. It had been bought specifically for her.

He thought of you. He remembered.

Her chest tightened as another memory drifted through her head. Of that twenty-first birthday party Khalil had arranged for her, and how she hadn’t been expecting presents, since she never got anything, not for her birthday.

The party itself had been so wonderful and dancing with him more wonderful still, and she’d thought nothing could top it. Then, after everyone had gone, Khalil had given her a birthday present. It was a dainty necklace that consisted of a simple gold chain with a golden sun that sat in the hollow of her throat.

‘Because you are sunshine, Sidonie,’he’d said.‘My sunshine.’

She’d fallen in love with him in that moment. For the party he’d organised for her and the touching present he’d given her. She’d loved him for how he’d known what it would mean to her, and that she hadn’t had to ask. Because her whole life up to that point had been having to ask for everything. And being afraid to.

Khalil had never made her feel afraid to ask. Not once.

And look what happened. Being cut dead on a snowy Soho street.

Oh, yes, she remembered. And the next day she’d thrown his necklace in the rubbish.

The memory was too painful, so she pushed it away, taking a shower instead and putting on the silky underwear and the beautiful dress. And indeed, when she looked at herself in the mirror, not only was it a perfect fit, but it also suited her. The colour accentuated her red hair and brought out the green in her eyes.

She debated briefly, putting her hair up into its usual bun, but then decided that, since she was on holiday, she was going to leave it loose.

He might like it like that.

Yes. He might. And she could use that perhaps.

Satisfied with her appearance, Sidonie stepped out of the bedroom and went into the lounge area.

And stopped dead.

Khalil was sitting on one of the couches, his arms resting along the back, long, powerful legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. He wore a black suit and a black shirt with a silk tie of many different shades of green.

Sidonie’s heart leapt into her throat, her mouth going dry.

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