Modern Romance Collection: May 2018 Books 5 - 8. Кейт Хьюит

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      He leaned back in his chair, wanting to recapture some of the enjoyment of the evening. He was sitting with a beautiful woman in candlelight, drinking smooth, velvety wine. Nothing could happen between them, for both their sakes, but they could still have a pleasant time together.

      ‘So tell me about yourself, Olivia,’ he invited as a member of his staff slipped into the room quietly to serve them the first course of lamb sambousek with fresh cucumber sauce.

      ‘Tell you...?’ Olivia looked startled. ‘There is not much to know, I’m afraid.’

      ‘That can’t be true.’ Zayed realised he was curious about her. ‘You said you had been working for the royal family since you were seventeen?’

      ‘Eighteen. Right after I finished school.’

      ‘You went to boarding school?’

      ‘Yes, in Switzerland. My father moved around a great deal and he wanted me to have a stable education.’

      ‘Did you enjoy it?’

      She shrugged. ‘It was a finishing school for aristocrats and princesses, and I was a minor diplomat’s daughter, a nobody. I was there on a scholarship,’ she explained. ‘And of course everyone knew it, since I didn’t fly in by helicopter, or wear designer clothes on the weekends, or keep my own pony.’ She let out a small laugh that sounded just a bit too sad. ‘Halina was my best friend,’ Olivia continued. ‘She took me under her wing, made sure other people didn’t tease me.’ But not being teased, Zayed acknowledged silently, wasn’t the same as being liked.

      ‘That was very kind of her.’

      ‘Yes, it was. She’s a very giving person.’ She took a quick breath, looking up at him uncertainly. ‘I hope things are able to work out between you.’

      ‘So do I.’ Yet it felt odd in a way he couldn’t elucidate to talk about Halina as his wife. He didn’t want to talk about Halina right now, didn’t even want to think about her. Not with Olivia sitting across from him and looking so very lovely. If that was an act of betrayal, so be it.

      ‘This letter,’ Olivia said slowly. ‘What exactly do you want me to say in it?’

      He didn’t want to talk about the letter now, either. ‘There is time for that tomorrow,’ he said swiftly. ‘Why don’t we eat?’

      Olivia nodded and took a small bite of the sambousek, fragrant with cinnamon and mint. ‘Delicious,’ she murmured. ‘Better than any I’ve tasted before.’

      ‘Tell me about your duties in Abkar,’ Zayed suggested. He wanted to know more about her, although he knew there was no real reason to. ‘You take care of the three younger Princesses?’ He didn’t know their names.

      ‘Yes, Saddah, Maarit and Aisha. They are twelve, ten and eight.’

      ‘And what do you do?’

      ‘Everything,’ Olivia answered with a small smile. ‘I’m meant to teach them English, but I also look after their belongings and arrange their lessons and social events. They are quite busy girls. Dancing, riding, tennis... Saddah will go to boarding school, the same one I went to, next year.’

      She lapsed into silence, her face drawn into sorrowful lines that made Zayed lean forward and touch her hand. ‘What is it? Why do you look sad suddenly?’

      She refocused on him with a wry smile that was still touched with sadness. ‘I’ll miss them, that’s all.’

      ‘But you can return to the palace in Abkar when all this is over,’ Zayed insisted. ‘I will make sure of it.’

      ‘I am not sure you will be able to arrange such a thing,’ Olivia answered quietly. ‘Sultan Hassan has entrusted me with the care of his precious daughters. I’m meant to be an example of womanhood to them—quiet, submissive, modest womanhood.’ Her lips twisted. ‘No matter how discreetly things are managed, word will get back to him and to them that...’ She gestured between them with one slender hand. ‘I have compromised myself.’

      Zayed’s mouth thinned into a hard line. ‘And in the letter, we can explain that it was not your fault.’

      ‘And have you take the blame? That would jeopardise your marriage negotiations, surely?’

      Yes, it would. Zayed stared at her in frustration, disliking how he’d put her in such an untenable position. After the events of the last few days, he realised how unfounded his suspicions were.

      Olivia was not a scheming gold-digger, trying to get the most out of this unfortunate arrangement. It would have been easier to maintain such a fiction, but he couldn’t, not when he’d seen her help the women and children at the camp; not when she’d shown so much concern for his welfare as well as that of his country.

      ‘Still,’ he persisted. ‘I will give you a handsome settlement. You will want for nothing.’

      ‘That is very generous of you, Prince Zayed.’ But she didn’t sound entirely pleased by the prospect, and he didn’t understand why.

      ‘You could travel,’ he continued, determined that she see some benefits. ‘Or start over. Work somewhere new.’

      ‘Yes.’ She laid down her fork, her appetite seemingly gone.

      ‘Does none of that appeal to you?’

      ‘It’s only...’ She sighed. ‘Abkar has been my home for four years, the only home I’ve ever really known. Sultan Hassan is my employer, I know, but he’s been kind to me, and more like a father than my own, who I barely knew. I’ll miss that.’

      So not only had he robbed her of her innocence and livelihood, but he’d taken her family and home as well. Guilt corroded his insides like acid. There had to be some way he could make this right.

       CHAPTER EIGHT

      OLIVIA TOOK IN the frown settled between Zayed’s straight, dark brows and wondered what he was so worried about. What did it matter to him if she travelled or got a new job? Or was she simply a burden to his conscience, and it would be far easier for him if she quite happily toddled off into whatever future remained for her?

      ‘I’d like to travel,’ Olivia said, injecting a note of enthusiasm into her voice that she didn’t quite feel. ‘I’d like to go to Paris. My godmother lives there.’

      ‘Your godmother?’ Olivia saw the unmistakeable relief on Zayed’s face and knew she had been right. He wanted her dealt with, taken care of.

      ‘Yes, an old friend of my mother’s. I haven’t seen her in years. It will be good to see her again.’ Which wasn’t quite true. Her godmother was elderly and practically a stranger, and she’d welcomed Olivia during her few, brief visits with a sense of obligation rather than enthusiasm. But Olivia knew what Zayed wanted to hear, and it was her instinct, as ever, to say it. Whether it was her father having needed to be reassured that she was fine at school, or Halina that she didn’t mind it when she went off with other friends, or even the СКАЧАТЬ