Sheikh's Scandal(38)

“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 had asked her to do so.

“I am glad to hear that, but it is absolutely not a requirement.” Sayed’s deep masculine tones thrummed through Liyah, drawing her around to face him with inexorable pull.

“Sayed.” Liyah was incapable of further speech at the moment.

“Do you like your suite?”

She nodded. “It’s beautiful.”

“But not her prison,” Queen Durrah inserted.

“Of course not, Mother. What have you been telling her?”

“We have just been discussing how best to handle her visit.”

“I believe I said I wanted to have that discussion with her?” he asked, irritation sparking in his dark gaze.

The queen shook her head. “You should not be here at all.”

“And yet you knew I intended to come and speak to Aaliyah as soon as I’d talked to Father.”

“Surely you could not be finished discussing your strategy for dealing with Tahira’s little escapade already?” the queen prompted.

“We can finish after I’ve made sure Aaliyah is comfortable.”

“Surely I am capable of doing that.”

Tired of watching words being bounced between mother and son like tennis volleys, Liyah went out on the balcony and left them to it.

Sayed joined her a few seconds later. “Are you all right, Aaliyah?”

“Do you want a polite lie, or the truth?”

“Truth, please.” His hand landed on her shoulder and Liyah wondered what the queen thought of that.

“I’m a bit overwhelmed, and while this suite is gorgeous it does feel a little like a prison.”

He turned her to face him and waited until she tipped her head back so their gazes met. “It’s not meant to. If nothing else, I want you to enjoy your stay here, to truly come to know the country of your mother’s birth.”

“Will I see you at all?”

“You are seeing me now.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the best one I can give you.” The glimpse she got in that second of Sayed the man, the very conflicted man, told Liyah she wasn’t the only one struggling with their situation.

“You promised to be my tour guide.”

“And so he shall be.” The queen stood in the open French doors leading to the balcony.

“Mother, could you please give us some privacy?” Sayed asked in a pained tone that would have been funny if Liyah wasn’t feeling so fragile.

More emotions she was doing her best to hide.

“I’ll just call for some tea and wait for it in the sitting room.” Whether it was the queen’s not-so-subtle way of telling her son she wasn’t leaving them entirely alone, or a simple peace offering, Liyah wasn’t up to guessing.

“Aaliyah, please.”

“What?” she asked, searching the depths of Sayed’s brown gaze for something.

Even she couldn’t say exactly what.

“Don’t look like that.”

“Like what?” She was doing her best not to look like anything.

He dropped his forehead against hers, breaking eye contact, but cocooning them in another type of intimacy. “Like you might break.”

“I won’t break.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.” Though she wasn’t sure she was telling the truth. And she was an honest woman. “I’ll try.”

He made a sound that hurt to hear. “Taking it one day at a time, right?”

“Does that really work?”