Sheikh's Scandal(32)

Liyah found herself explaining how she’d found out her grandfather owned her apartment, how utterly devastating the funeral and meeting with the lawyer afterward had been when he had told her she must vacate her apartment.

“I didn’t let them see it, though. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.”

“You have admirable emotional control.”

If he realized the feelings she had for him she’d been unable to prevent or stifle, he wouldn’t think so.

“Do you plan to return to San Francisco?”

“After we confirm I’m not pregnant?”

“If that is the case, yes.”

“I don’t know. Maybe I will travel for a while.” She’d planned to save what was left of her mother’s life insurance for the future, but to what end?

Liyah was twenty-six. If she didn’t experience life now, when would she?

“Alone?” Sayed asked, disapproval evident. “Your mother would not encourage that, I think.”

“I’m an adult and this is the twenty-first century, not the twelfth. A woman can travel alone.”

“Not safely.”

“Oh, please.”

Sayed spent the next five minutes quoting statistics for crime against women traveling alone, particularly out of their home countries.

“Why do you know all this?”

“My cousin Samira wanted to go backpacking across Europe without bodyguard or chaperone a couple of years ago.”

“How old was she?” He was thirty-six, Liyah knew. She couldn’t quite picture a woman in the same age bracket wanting that kind of trip.

But then again, why not?

“Twenty-two. Her mother is my father’s younger sister.”

“And you said no.”

“Actually, my father refused permission on the request of my aunt.”

“Why not her own father?” Or Samira’s mother, for that matter?

“Her father died in the explosion that killed my older brother.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It is an old grief.”

“But not one that ever goes away completely.”

“No.”

“So, I bet Samira was mad.” Or maybe being raised in the royal family had made it easier to accept restrictions for the woman who was four years younger than Liyah.

“We found her a well-trained female bodyguard team and a companion to travel with her.”

“And they went backpacking?” Liyah asked in shock. “Seriously?”


“With a few travel compromises, yes.”

“Let me guess, they rode first class on the trains and had drivers in the cities they visited on a well-ordered travel itinerary.”

He smiled winningly. “Something like that.”

“So, is Samira your only cousin?”

“No, she has a younger brother. Bilal. My aunt was pregnant when she lost my uncle.”

“Are you close?”

“He is twelve years my junior.”

“I’m sure he looks up to you.”

“I spent what time I could with him since moving back from the States, but he left for his own years at university. Bilal was to return to Zeena Sahra in time for my wedding.” Sayed’s lips twisted in a grimace.

“He is close with my father. He stepped in for his deceased brother-in-law from the beginning.”

“Bilal is lucky to have you both.”

Sayed shrugged. “He is family.”

“So, why can’t you train him for the emir responsibilities before taking over from your father as melech?”

“You do not think I will make a good king?” Sayed demanded, sounding hurt.

“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m just pointing out there are options to tradition.” Her mother’s insistence on certain traditions had hurt Liyah more than helped her.

Hena’s willingness to break with others had made Liyah’s life what it was—in a very good way. Which was not to say that all tradition was bad, but being a slave to it was.

“Tell me about growing up in San Francisco,” Sayed said in an obvious attempt to change the subject.

Liyah didn’t hesitate, though. Because answering him gave her a chance to talk about her mom and that was something she’d been craving to do.

Sayed listened attentively to the stories of Liyah’s childhood and time living with her mother as an adult.

“You clearly loved your mother very much.”

“Yes.”

“It is equally apparent that she loved you fiercely.”

Suddenly choked with emotion, Liyah could only nod.

He narrowed his eyes in thought. “It sounds very much like each prevarication on your mother’s part was done with the intent to protect your feelings.”

“Then why ask me to find my father? She had to know once I realized the truth how devastated I would be, how his rejection would hurt.”

“I can only theorize Ms. Amari expected a much different reaction from your father than the one he gave you.”

“She died hoping her family would one day acknowledge me.”

“She was an optimist.”

Liyah smiled. “She definitely was. She tended to see the best in people and dismiss their flaws.” Expelling a long breath, she admitted, “I also don’t think she ever stopped loving my father.”