And that was how she’d leave.

“Goodbye,” she said, her voice cracking. She would not cry. Not here. Not in front of Basam’s men.

Lifting her chin and blinking back tears, she stalked away from them and down one corridor after another toward Maram’s suite of rooms. When Amber finally arrived, Maram was already at her opened door, gesturing for her to hurry.

Maram pulled her inside and shut and locked the door. She looked at her with sharp, assessing eyes. “You wrote the letter?”

Amber nodded. “I did.”

Maram’s smile was almost reflected in her dark stare. “It would seem you’re not such a simple girl at heart, after all?” She giggled, then said in a warmer tone, “Come, I know a back way we can go.”

She led her outside to a courtyard, the sun insidiously hot even under the date palms rustling branches. Opening a door at the other end of the outdoor area, Maram hustled her inside yet another corridor.

Though this side of the palace would still be considered grand, it wasn’t nearly as glamorous as the wings of the palace Amber had been shown.

“This is the servants’ wing,” Maram said in an undertone. “Hopefully they’ll all be too busy to go running off informing Basam of your departure.”

Amber followed her through a few more corridors, the palace once again looking extravagant and elegant, with mosaic floors and high arched ceilings. The walls of this corridor showcased the sunrise and sunsets of desert landscapes and, despite her despair, a distant part of her couldn’t help but admire each of them as she walked past.

Then they passed an opened doorway of a huge room featuring black and white floor tiles. She didn’t have a chance to look inside, but she noticed the workmen who were busy rebuilding and transforming the area.

She glanced at Maram. “What is that room?”

Maram sent her a quick look, her eyes speculative. “A ballroom apparently. He recentlycommissioned an architect and builder to begin work on it.” Her lip curled and her voice cooled. “It’s becoming quite a tradition for sheikhs to have one.”

A little shiver skated down Amber’s spine. The ballroom would be beautiful once it was done. It’d take what? A month? Six months, before it was finished? Though she was certain Basam would pay well to have the ballroom finished as fast as possible.

“I can’t wait to see it when it’s done,” Maram added vindictively. She liked rubbing in the fact Amber would never have that same privilege.

“I’m sure it will be beautiful,” she said tonelessly.

“It will be even more beautiful when I’m dancing across the checkered floor in Basam’s arms.”

Amber almost snorted. The woman was delusional. Basam would never want Maram in that way. She suspected even being friends was becoming doubtful in his eyes.

Soon enough they exited the side of the palace where more date palms stood sentry, a dozen or more of them surrounding a white-pebbled driveway that gleamed under the sun. A large black sedan waited close by, its chauffeur looking hot and bothered as he stood beside an opened back door.

“Well, this is where I leave you,” Maram said with a cool smile. “You’ll have your money in your bank account tonight.”

“Wait. I haven’t given you my bank account details.”

“Do you really think I need them?” she scoffed. “I’ve got more on you than you probably do yourself.” Her red lips curled into a smile that bordered on a sneer. “Goodbye Amber, please don’t make me regret being nice to you.”

Thiswas her being nice?

She wasted all of ten seconds watching Maram strut back the way she’d come, all long flowing black hair and swishing green abaya. Then Amber took one last, long look at the beautiful palace before she turned and stepped toward her getaway car.

Chapter Fifteen

Basam stalked down the corridor of his palace with his thoughts no longer on his people’s problems or that of his country. He had an uncanny ability to solve everything that came his way, no matter how complicated, so he wasn’t concerned about the empty threats or pressures placed on his shoulders.

His every thought now centered on the woman he’d made love to last night, a woman he couldn’t get out of his head even in the thick of a deep grievance between neighbors he’d eventually resolved.

Many believed love made a man weak. He believed love made a man strong, invincible. Powerful. In that moment he had enough conviction inside him to take on the world.

His lips pulled into a wide smile as he turned and headed toward his suite of rooms. He had so much to talk to Amber about, not least of all requesting that she stay for the foreseeable future. His contract would soon run out, and he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her.

He already had ideas to build a huge wave pool and beach. She could teach the no doubt many interested surfers-to-be or just simply enjoy the wave pool to herself, he didn’t mind, as long as she was happy.