Royal Families Vs. Historicals. Rebecca Winters

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СКАЧАТЬ moved to close the second door, then joined him at the coffee table, sitting in the opposite armchair from his.

      “My request is very…” He frowned, searching for words, then poured out the contents of the pouch onto the coffee table.

      It was a necklace, the chain three delicate strands of white gold, the pendant complex and simple at once. The stones were blue, set into a graceful sweep that almost looked like a cursive letter.

      “Arabic?” she guessed, caught by both its whimsy and the suggestion of joy.

      “It means ‘with.’” His smile flashed.

      “It’s beautiful.” She was instantly taken by it and moved to the settee so she could examine it more closely.

      “May I?” She reached out, adding in a murmur, “You want me to design something to go with it?” She would love to. The well of her creativity began to burble just feeling the weight of the piece against her fingers. It had a certain magic that penetrated her skin right into her blood.

      “I believe you already have.”

      “Pardon?” She dragged her stunned gaze off the crimping on the claws, experiencing a shiver as she recognized the workmanship. “Did you make something for my brother, Henri? A tennis bracelet with pink and white diamonds?”

      “I don’t discuss my clients.” His mouth twitched as if he knew that she’d said that same thing more times than she could count. “But my work is carried by a jeweler here in Paris and one in London. And I did make something like that when I first moved to France. It’s quite possible the bracelet is mine.”

      “I meant to ask him where he got it,” she murmured, but her brother wasn’t speaking to her, primarily because she had dared to invade the family flat and discovered that Cinnia had left him. “I would love to work together,” she blurted. “I’m bowled over by your skill.”

      He smiled with shy pleasure, eyes gleaming. “That touches me. You can’t imagine how much. But let me ask my favor first. Then we’ll see what you think of working with me on something else.”

      “Yes, right. Did you see a piece of mine somewhere? You know it’s just as likely designed by Trella?” She looked at the pendant again, trying to imagine how she could have inspired something so beautiful. She was utterly in love with it.

      “I made this for my sister. I was hoping you could take it to her.”

      “Your—Oh, my God!” If she hadn’t been so enthralled with the necklace, she would have put it together sooner. Now she quickly dropped the pendant on the table and jerked to her feet, backing away from a ghost. “Oh, my God!”

      Charles shot in.

      She held up her hand.

      “I’m fine. Just a shock,” she insisted to her guard. “What is today’s word? I can’t even remember. Daffodil?” She touched her forehead. “Honestly, I’m fine. I just need a moment with…”

      She waved at Kasim’s dead brother. Her hand trembled.

      “I’m so sorry,” Jamal said with a wince. “I thought you might know.”

      “How—? No.” She had to be white as a sheet, but managed to shoo Charles out.

      He continued to watch her closely through the glass.

      “Oh, my God, Jamal,” she breathed. “How on earth would I know? Your whole family thinks you’re dead.” She held her hand to her throat where she felt her own pulse thundering like a bullet train.

      “Kasim didn’t tell you? He helped arrange it. The death certificate and name change…”

      “No he didn’t tell me!” It caused her quite a pang to admit it, but she had already processed that however much she had thought she meant to Kasim, she had actually meant a lot less.

      “Good God, why?” She moved to the settee and sank down, wilting as the shock wore off and her mind jammed with questions. “I mean, he told me that your father didn’t like that you were an artist, but—”

      “Is that what he said?” His smile was crooked and poignant. “Our father couldn’t accept that I was gay.”

      “Oh,” she breathed. More secrets with which Kasim hadn’t trusted her. She had been so open about her own family. It made her feel so callow to think of it. Where had her precious speech gone? The one from her first dinner with Kasim, when she had told him she was reticent out of respect for her siblings. But had he entrusted her with Jamal’s story? No.

      “You couldn’t just…live in exile? Here?” she asked.

      “My lover was already here and beaten to within an inch of his life for…leading me into that life.”

      “No! Oh, dear God. Your father couldn’t have arranged that?”

      “People in his government. There are those in Zhamair who are still very prejudiced. They said they were protecting the reputation of the crown, but my father did nothing to prevent or punish them.” Deep emotion gripped him for a moment and he struggled to regain his composure, swallowing audibly before continuing. “Either way, I couldn’t risk Bernard’s life again. I feared for my own. Merely leaving wouldn’t have been enough. I was afraid to even see Kasim again, in case it made things difficult for him, or exposed us.”

      He propped his elbows on his thighs, back bowed with the weight of the world, expression weary. He rubbed his hands over his face, then looked at her over his clasped fingers.

      “My mother’s life is not easy. The queen is very resentful of her. If my mother had had a gay son living flagrantly abroad…” He shook his head. “No. It was terribly cruel to tell her I was dead, but if the queen picks on her now, my father stands up for her out of respect for her grief.”

      “I can’t imagine,” she murmured, appalled anew at the ugly aggression Kasim had grown up in. “I’m so sorry, Jamal.”

      “Why?” he said, looking and sounding so much like Kasim, her throat tightened. “You had nothing to do with it.”

      “I wish I could do something, I guess.” She realized immediately that she had backed herself into a corner.

      His smile was sharp and amused. “Thank you. I would like that.”

      She shook her head. “You’re so much like him it’s unnerving. But I can’t take that to Hasna and tell her it’s from you. You think I was shocked!”

      “No,” he agreed. “She can’t know I’m alive, but Kasim could tell her it was in my old collection and that he had been saving it for her wedding day. It would mean a lot to me for her to wear this. I know she would.”

      “We’re not, um… Kasim and I aren’t seeing each other anymore.” The press hadn’t quite caught on, so she wasn’t surprised he didn’t know. The words still abraded her throat. “I’m not going to Zhamair.”

      “Ah. I didn’t realize.” His expression fell. “I’m sorry. From the photos I saw, you both looked quite…” He didn’t finish, СКАЧАТЬ