Chantelle Shaw - The Royal House of Karedes - Two Crowns - The Sheikh's Forbidden Virgin / The Greek Billionaire's Innocent Princess / The Future King's Love-Child

Kalila glanced up from her drink, her eyes widening as she realised what he’d said. What he’d guessed. For that was exactly the temptation that had assailed her in Cambridge, that forbidden, wonderful thought of what could be…but never would.

‘Yes,’ she said slowly, ‘I could have, I suppose. But I knew I never would.’

‘Why not?’ Aarif demanded, and Kalila shrugged.

‘Because. I couldn’t betray my family, my heritage,’ she stated simply. ‘It would be the same as betraying myself.’

Aarif looked away again, yet Kalila had the strange sensation that her answer had somehow satisfied him. She glanced at Juhanah and saw that the older woman had succumbed to the pleasures of a drowsy afternoon in the sun, and was now dozing, her chin nodding against her chest. She turned back to Aarif, a smile glimmering in her eyes, playing around her mouth.

‘We wore her out.’

Aarif smiled faintly. ‘So it would seem.’

She couldn’t resist taking advantage of the privacy afforded by Juhanah’s momentary nap. Kalila leaned forward. ‘What about you, Aarif? What brought you back to Calista? Were you ever tempted to stay in Oxford, make a life there?’

His fingers flexed around his glass. ‘No.’

‘Not at all?’ Kalila persisted, trying to tease, yet sensing a deeper darkness to Aarif’s words, seeing it in his frown.

‘No, my duty has always been here. There was never any question of anything else.’ He spoke flatly, his eyes on the horizon, or perhaps lost in a memory.

‘You always wanted to manage Calista’s diamonds?’

He shrugged. ‘Always, no. But for many years…’ he paused, and Kalila felt as if he was weighing his words, his thoughts. ‘Yes,’ he finally said, and left it at that.

‘What about one of your other brothers?’ Kalila asked. ‘Are they interested in the diamond industry?’ She snagged on a sudden memory. ‘Don’t you have a twin?’

‘Yes, and he has his own affairs to occupy him,’ Aarif replied. He drained his glass and set it on the table. ‘Now the day is late and it is not good for any of us to sit out too long in the sun. Why don’t you wake your nurse and we can go.’ He rose from the table to settle the bill, leaving Kalila feeling dismissed. She’d asked too many questions, she knew. She’d tried to get too close.

And yet she’d been closer than this—and closer still—the night in the desert. She couldn’t forget that wonderful moment of surprising intimacy, yet, watching the indifferent expanse of Aarif’s broad back as he moved through the tables, she felt with a pang of weary sorrow that he could.

Kalila roused Juhanah, who insisted she’d not been asleep at all, but merely resting her eyes, and they made their way back to the palace in rather sombre silence.

A liveried servant swept the front door open and as soon as they were in the foyer Aarif bowed and, with a polite, formal thanks for their company, he took his leave.

Kalila watched him go with a sense of disappointed loss. She had a feeling Aarif would make sure she didn’t see him again any time soon. He’d done his duty and taken her out, shown her the city. Now he would find excuses to stay away, and Kalila couldn’t think of any to see him again. She envisioned a week of meals in her room, followed by a sudden and inexplicable wedding, and felt the loss intensify inside her.

Back in her bedroom the late afternoon sunlight sent long, lazy shadows across the floor, and the ceiling fan whirred slowly above them, creating barely a stir of air.

There, on her bed, was a paper-wrapped package, and before she’d even touched it Kalila knew what it was.

Her silk. The silk Aarif had chosen for her, had said would look lovely on her—

Kalila choked back a sudden sob, pressing her fist to her mouth. She couldn’t cry now, not when it was too late, when nothing could be done—

‘Oh, Kalila.’ Juhanah stood in the doorway, her fists on her hips. ‘What foolish thing have you done, my child?’

Kalila blinked back tears. ‘N-n—nothing—’

‘You have fallen in love, haven’t you?’ Juhanah closed the door, shaking her head as she moved closer to Kalila and laid a heavy, consoling hand on her shoulder. ‘You miss the king, and so you have taken the prince instead.’ Kalila heard both sympathy and censure in Juhanah’s voice. ‘Haven’t you?’

Kalila closed her eyes. She was too tired and heart-sore to deny it, so she said nothing. Juhanah clucked her tongue and sighed.

‘It is unfortunate, of course, but it will pass. It is only because the king was not here to see you, and in your disappointment you looked to someone else.’

Kalila kept her eyes closed, her face averted. She wasn’t in love with Aarif, she told herself fiercely. He had moments of kindness, of softness, but that was all—

‘I’m not in love with him.’ There. That had come out strong, sure. She opened her eyes and blinked back the last sting of tears. ‘He has been kind, Juhanah, and I’m homesick and lonely. But it is no more than that.’

‘No, indeed.’ Juhanah’s voice was sharp with suspicion and her fingers tightened on Kalila’s shoulder. ‘Nothing happened when you ran off?’ she asked. ‘You were gone a full night—’

‘Juhanah!’ Kalila made herself sound shocked. She shrugged off her nurse’s hand and moved to put the silk away. ‘What are you talking about? Prince Aarif found me in the morning. He told you that himself.’

‘Yes…’ Juhanah let her breath out slowly, and then gave a little nod, seemingly satisfied.

Kalila didn’t realise how hard and fast her heart was beating until her nurse left the room. She moved to the window, her hands pressed to her flushed cheeks, and tried to still her racing heart.

If Juhanah discovered what had happened, she trusted her nurse not to say anything, yet she didn’t think she could bear her disappointment. And yet what did it matter if Juhanah found out? If anyone found out?

The only person who couldn’t find out was Zakari, and Aarif was determined to tell him. And what would happen then? Any chance of happiness—she’d given up on love—would be destroyed. Zakari would hate her, and even if he forgave her their relationship would always be tainted with betrayal, her betrayal—

She would live under a shadow, a stain that could never be cleaned away. The thought was crippling, devastating.

She couldn’t let that happen. Not for her sake, for Zakari’s sake, for the sake of the country. Not for Aarif’s sake.

Taking a deep breath, Kalila felt her determination harden into resolve. Tonight she would find Aarif again, and make him understand.

After another quiet meal in her bedroom with Juhanah, Kalila dismissed her nurse, insisting that once again she was tired and wished only to sleep. Juhanah, however, was less likely to believe this tale, and left with only the greatest reluctance and eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Kalila waited a full hour before she slipped from her room; by that time the dark, quiet corridors were lit only by moonlight and she could hear Juhanah’s snores through the door of her bedroom.

It took her a while to find her way through the winding corridors of the palace, and when she did finally stumble upon the library it was dark and empty. Disappointment echoed through her as she surveyed the silent room. She’d been counting on Aarif being there.

Waiting for her? a sly inner voice mocked, and Kalila pushed it away resolutely.

She turned away, at a loss. The night stretched emptily, endlessly in front of her.

‘Princess?’ A disembodied voice floated through the darkness, and Kalila stiffened. The lights flickered on, bringing a mundane yet welcome reality to the situation, and a servant bowed before asking, ‘May I help you, Princess?’