The Chatsfield Collection Books 1-8. Annie West

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СКАЧАТЬ after their arrival to the palace, however.

      Sayed had barely taken the time to introduce her to his esteemed parents before excusing himself to speak to his father privately. The monarchs had been surprisingly gracious, but Sayed’s desertion had stung.

      Coming on top of the way he’d been acting since they made love, it was doubly hurtful.

      He’d walked into the bathroom a man and came out one hundred percent emir, focused on affairs of state.

      Sayed had dressed in silence and then turned to her, his gaze set firmly somewhere beyond her left shoulder. “Nap now. I’ll have the cabin attendant knock on the door in time for you to shower and dress for landing.”

      She might have argued if her eyes hadn’t already been drooping, her body seconds from sliding into sleep regardless.

      As he’d promised, she’d been alerted in time to shower and dress in clothes miraculously ironed while she’d been napping. However, even though she’d returned to her seat, Sayed had spent the entire descent and landing talking to Yusuf, who had joined them in one of the empty seats across the table.

      Then Sayed had been fully occupied the drive to the palace with his smartphone.

      Liyah knew he had important issues that had to be dealt with, but that hadn’t diminished her sense of the growing distance between them.

      A distance that should never have been bridged in the first place, her brain tried to remind her. Her emotions foolishly balked at that truth.

      Liyah had never warred so much within herself as she had since meeting Sayed, not even when she’d been deciding about going to England to meet her biological father.

      No matter how unreasonable, how hopeless, how ridiculous, her growing feelings for Sayed were, Liyah could not deny them. However, she had no intention of sharing them with anyone else, especially the man himself.

      Not by word, or deed.

      Which meant she maintained her outward dignity and self-possession with particular care as she kept pace with the queen.

      She led Liyah up a grand staircase that made the one at the Chatsfield London seem simple and unassuming in comparison. A strip of plush red carpet ran up the center of the mahogany steps shined to a glasslike finish. The matching elegantly carved banisters were held up by over a hundred ornate three-foot-high crystal newels.

      Everything about the stone palace complex located on the shore of Zeena Sahra’s Bahir Sea was over the top and yet not in the least tacky.

      After several turns and traversing a distance easily equal to a couple city blocks, they approached an imposing set of double doors. Liyah wasn’t even surprised to find a man dressed in the manner she’d come to associate with Sayed’s security detail standing to the left of the doors.

      The queen nodded to him, but made no verbal greeting.

      The guard opened the door on the right and Queen Durrah led Liyah through it, only the softest swishing sound indicating it closing behind them.

      Queen Durrah smiled at Liyah, her amber gaze reflecting an impressive determination and confidence of spirit. “For the next five days, you will stay here as our honored guest, but your name and relationship to my son will not be revealed.”

      She did not ask if Liyah understood, or even agreed. Somehow that assumption of agreement was more intimidating than Sayed’s bossiest moments.

      “Five days?” Liyah asked.

      “Perhaps six.”

      Liyah nodded, though not entirely sure why that exact length of stay was necessary.

      “The definitive blood test can be performed five days after the event at the earliest.” The queen waved her hand as if referring to something she would prefer not to address directly.

      The pregnancy test.

      “Do you want me to stay in my room?” So much for Sayed’s promise to be her tour guide.

      “My goodness, no.” The queen opened a door on her right to reveal a lovely sitting room done in champagne with burgundy accents. “You are not a prisoner here.”

      Just a guest who had to remain anonymous.

      Liyah could not quite suppress how impressed she was by her accommodations. They could have put her in the servants’ quarters and she would not have minded at all. “This is the size of the living room in our old apartment.”

      “Our?” the queen asked in a way Liyah found she could not refuse to answer.

      Not that she would have regardless. “I shared an apartment with my mother until her death four months ago.”

      Liyah managed to speak of her mother’s loss without revealing what it cost her to do so, but she turned away to give herself a moment. Though she hoped her intent was not obvious. Liyah would not have Queen Durrah thinking she was some weak emotional mess.

      “I am very sorry to hear about your mother.” There was no mistaking the sympathy in the older woman’s tone. “I remember losing my own mother. I miss her to this day.”

      “Thank you,” Liyah replied, renewing her attempt to pull in her emotions.

      “Aaliyah.” There was a command in the queen’s tone Liyah once again could not ignore.

      She turned. “Yes, Your Highness?”

      “I am not accustomed to speaking to the back of someone’s head.” The queen shook her head, her eyes narrowing. “Never mind. Did my son suggest you should stay in your room during your stay here?”

      “No.”

      Queen Durrah nodded as if approving Liyah’s response. “While you are not a prisoner, there are a few concessions we will all appreciate you making.”

      Liyah was impressed. The queen hadn’t ordered her to make those concessions, but her wording made it clear she expected Liyah’s cooperation.

      “Whatever I can do,” she promised the other woman.

      “While your things have been delivered, during your stay here we would prefer you not wear the clothes you brought with you. You will discover traditional Zeena Sahran clothing in your wardrobe. You may consider it a gift and take it with you when you leave the palace.”

      “That is not necessary.” She hadn’t missed the queen’s certainty Liyah wouldn’t be staying.

      “Nevertheless, the clothing is yours. We would appreciate it very much if you would wear it whenever you leave this room, including the hijab over your hair.”

      “Okay.”

      “You may notice I do not wear the hijab. It is by no means a requirement in our culture.” The queen wore her hair in an elegant coif, a tiara that could have been a large hair ornament tucked into the dark tresses.

      “I don’t mind wearing the hijab.” Though Liyah didn’t really understand why Queen Durrah СКАЧАТЬ