by Holly Rayner
“Oh. Thank you.”
“Where may I serve?”
“Um…”
He saw her hesitation. “The desk?” he asked, kindly.
“Yes. Please.”
With a brisk nod, the server transferred the plate to the desk and whisked away the cover. A delicious aroma filled the room and Ellie sighed happily. She hadn’t realized until now how hungry she was. She peeked over the servant’s shoulder as he worked and saw lamb and stuffed grape leaves. She’d tried both foods before, back at home, but here was the part of the world in which they’d been perfected. Her mouth watered in anticipation.
The server poured water from a pitcher over a glass of ice, uncorked a bottle of wine, and poured a glass of that too. “Do you require anything else, miss?”
“I’m good, I think.”
He cocked his head, clearly not understanding.
“I mean, no thank you. I have everything I need.”
The server bowed and withdrew.
Without pausing to sit down Ellie cut herself a bite of lamb and popped it in her mouth. It was rich, juicy, and delicious.
She closed her eyes and hummed a little in delight, then took a sip of the wine. She wasn’t educated about wines, which ones to pair with which foods, but she did know enough to know that lamb should be eaten with red wine, and this particular glass tasted wonderful.
Instead of sitting down at the desk, she picked up her plate and wine glass and took them out to the balcony. She was high above the ground here, far too high to be seen by anyone from below. In the distance, she could see the twinkling lights of downtown Al Fahad waking up as the sun went down.
Ellie set her plate and glass down at the edge of the pool. She didn’t have a swimsuit, but she was longing to get in the water. It’s all right, she thought. It’s a private balcony. Nobody can see me here.
She slipped out of her new clothes, folded them carefully, and set them on the deck. Then she slipped into the water. It was warm, having been heated all day by the desert sun, and felt wonderful.
She swam a few laps and then returned to her plate. She took another sip of wine, feeling the stress of the past few days melt away. Maybe being here is a good idea after all, she thought. It’s like a spa vacation. I deserve a break.
The heavy slam of a door jolted her from her reverie, and she spun around with a splash.
Mahmoud was standing in her room, staring out at her.
Chapter 16
Mahmoud
She’s naked!
Mahmoud was appalled at himself. He knew he should stop staring, turn around or leave or—or something, but he was frozen.
“What are you doing!” she shrieked.
“I… I apologize…”
“Turn around! Right now!”
With a sigh of relief that he’d been told what to do, Mahmoud turned his back to Ellie. He heard the splash of water as she got out of the pool, and then some stomping around on the deck. She wasn’t being quiet. You had to really stomp to get the stone pool deck to make that much noise, especially with bare feet. Clearly, she wanted him to hear her rage.
After an interlude, she spoke. “You can turn back now.”
He did, and saw that she was dressed in a salwar kameez. It looked lovely on her, even soaked through with pool water as it was now. He should say something, he knew, but he had no idea where to begin.
Fortunately, Ellie started the conversation for them. “What the hell are you doing barging into my room like that?”
“I apologize. I didn’t realize…”
“Didn’t realize what? That I might be naked in here?
“Well. Precisely that.”
“What do you think happens in bedrooms? People change clothes. People take showers. People wear pajamas—”
“Pajamas are clothes.”
She folded her arms. “Well, maybe I don’t want you to see me in my pajamas. I do have that right, you know.”
“Of course you do. I’m sorry.”
“What are you doing here?”
“My dinner meeting was cancelled. I thought I’d see if you wanted to eat together.”
“And you couldn’t knock?”
“Well, I…”
“What?”
“It’s just that I’ve never knocked on any door,” he said.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
“No. I always knew where I was and wasn’t allowed to go in the palace. It was never a question. If I wanted to enter a room, I did. If I wasn’t permitted to enter, knocking would have made no difference.”
“What about other people’s homes?”
“I’m the prince.” He corrected himself. “I was the prince.”
“So?”
“So I have the right to enter private homes.”
“And you just did that?”
“Ellie, are you angry? I didn’t go into your home.”
“You literally just did.”
“No, this isn’t…”
“It’s where I’m living right now, Mahmoud, please don’t split hairs with me. What about at Stanford? In the dorms? Did you just walk into other people’s rooms there?”
“I didn’t really have friends at Stanford,” he said.
“You’re lying.”
Mahmoud was confused. “I’m not lying. I wanted friends. It was heartbreaking to me to be missing that part of the experience. But my security detail was far too tight. I didn’t even live in the dorms. I had an off-campus apartment all four years, and I spent every night sequestered away, doing homework. Wishing I was meeting people, unable to do so.”
Ellie was starting to soften, he could see it. But she wasn’t ready to completely forgive him. “Freshmen aren’t allowed to live off campus.”
“Prince,” he reminded her, gesturing at himself.
She rolled her eyes. The effect was comical. He didn’t think anyone had ever rolled their eyes at him before. “Right.”
“Ellie, truly. I apologize. I really didn’t see…much.”
“Shut up.” She sighed. “You can’t do that, all right? You can’t come barging in here. I don’t care if it is your house. I don’t care if you are the Sheikh. If I’m going to stay here, I have to have some degree of privacy.”
“That’s reasonable.”
“Otherwise, I’m on the next flight out of here. I can’t always be wondering if you’re about to walk in while I’m changing.”
He tried a smile. To his relief, she smiled back. “It’s a deal. I’ll knock.”
“All right, then.”
“I like the salwar kameez, by the way.”
She pulled at the fabric a little. “Is that what it’s called? I like it too. Your people did a really good job; it fits great.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“Thank you for having it made.”
He nodded. “So how about dinner? Would you care to join me?”
“I’ve already eaten,” she said. “Besides, I could use some alone time.”
He raised his eyebrows.
She noticed. “Is that the first time anyone’s ever turned you down for dinner?”
“Well. Yes.”
“I guess that makes me pretty special, then.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “I guess it does.”
Chapter 17
Ellie
“It’s salwar kameez, right?” Ellie asked Keziah the next morning.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Keziah?”
“Ma’am?”
“Could you please call me Ellie?”
Keziah looked away awkwardly. “I shouldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“It’s too familiar.”
“But I’m not royalty. I’m just a girl from California.”
She shook her head. “I’m to refer to you as he does.”
“Who? Mahmoud?”
The maid sucked in a sharp breath.
“What? You can’t even hear me say his name?”
> “It isn’t appropriate, ma’am. Please.”
“Keziah, is he… Is he cruel to you?”
“No, ma’am.”
Ellie measured her response. She’d expected Keziah to deny her suggestion, of course, but if the girl’s protestations had been too emphatic, she might have suspected something. But Keziah’s denial was calm, almost bland. Yes, there were cruel rulers, she seemed to say, but Mahmoud was not one of them. This was about the standard of propriety in Al Fahad.
It wasn’t the American standard. It made Ellie feel awkward and uncomfortable to be shown such deference when she hadn’t done anything to earn it. But she could see that, by accepting it, she was putting Keziah more at ease than she ever could have by insisting on being on a first-name basis.
And it was good to get this girl’s perspective on Mahmoud. Ellie still wasn’t sure how to feel about him.
She wasn’t about to let that ruin today for her, though. Keziah had handed her a note from Mahmoud when she’d arrived in Ellie’s room that morning:
Ellie,
Please dress for a day at the market. Comfortable shoes and clothes that will blend in. We’re bound to be noticed, thanks to my guards, but it can’t be avoided.
I’ll meet you in the entrance hall.
Mahmoud
In all likelihood she would have worn the salwar kameez regardless. It was infinitely more comfortable than her business suits. The outfit consisted of bright orange baggy pants and a white and orange shirt that hung to her knees. It felt like being in very attractive pajamas. Incredibly comfortable, but without sacrificing on style.
She was prepared to feel awkwardness upon seeing him, but his face lit up as soon as she walked into the entrance hall and she found she was able to put the events of last night out of her mind. “Ellie! You look lovely. That’s a wonderful color on you.”
“Thank you.” Was she blushing?
“Did you do your hair yourself?” he asked, gesturing at her fishtail braid. “Or was it Keziah?”
“I did it.”
He walked behind her, admiring it. “It’s so intricate.”
“My friend Lia was really into braids back at Stanford. She made us all practice on each other. I guess I got really good at it.”
Mahmoud smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes. “I wish I’d had experiences like that.”
“They were some of the best times of my life,” Ellie acknowledged.
“Did you keep in touch with them?” Mahmoud asked. “I remember you telling me you hoped you would.”
“You remember that?”
“I remember many things from that night.” This time, the smile lit his entire face.
“Claire lives in San Francisco. We catch up every so often,” Ellie said. “Lia moved to Seattle after graduation. The last time I saw her was two Christmases ago.”
“Is that sad for you?”
“No, it’s okay. She’s married now. She has two little kids. Our lives are so different.”
They had stepped outside. The sun beat down punishingly, but the car was already there waiting for them. To Ellie’s surprise, a second car followed behind it. “Why two cars?” she asked.
“The security detail is in that one,” Mahmoud said. “This one is just for us.”
“Are we likely to be in danger?” Ellie wasn’t sure if she was scared or thrilled by the prospect. Without a doubt, her heart was going a mile a minute.
“Better safe than sorry,” Mahmoud said, ushering her into the car.
Chapter 18
Ellie
The market could not have been any more different from the palace, but it immediately created in Ellie the same sense of bigness. Here, there were no wide, empty spaces, no high ceilings. Everyone, and everything, was packed close together.
It was an open-air market, reminding her of the farmer’s market she liked to visit on Saturday mornings back home, only much more chaotic. There must have been a hundred different booths, selling all kinds of interesting things. Some of the booths looked new, while others might have been in use for years. Ellie turned in a slow circle, trying to take it all in.
Of course, the shoppers and vendors had already spotted them and were openly staring. They weren’t inconspicuous in the slightest. Mahmoud’s guards had established a perimeter as soon as they’d stepped out of the car. Now, although the other patrons of the market still couldn’t move without running into one another, Ellie and Mahmoud had a clear space around them. Ellie found it incredibly strange to be in this untouchable bubble in the middle of a crowd. It was even stranger than the stares of all these people.
Mahmoud didn’t even seem to notice. “Come on,” he said. “Stop me if you see anything you like.”
“What are we here for?”
“What?” The shadow of a frown crossed his face. “You don’t like it?”
“No, I mean, what did we come here to get?”
“Oh,” he waved his hand. “I don’t know. Nothing.”
Right. What had she been thinking? If he wanted something in particular, he would have a servant get it for him. The only reason for Mahmoud to come here himself was because he felt like shopping.
To her surprise, the annoyance she expected to feel at his entitlement didn’t come. Instead, it was almost charming. Here was a man who could have anything he wanted, just by asking, and what he wanted most was to come to the public market where his people sold their wares.
It was such a young thing to do. It reminded Ellie of herself as a teenager, going to the mall with her mother’s credit card and a strict spending limit, just for the joy of shopping with her friends, even though she probably could have gotten more clothes if she’d let her mother take her.
Mahmoud selected an orange from a table. “These are in season right now.”
The vendor looked up at him and looked back down, saying nothing as Mahmoud started to peel the fruit and eat it.
“Don’t you have to pay him?” Ellie asked.
“The guard will do that.” Mahmoud was already moving on.
Ellie glanced back over her shoulder. Sure enough, one of the guards was passing some coins to the orange vendor. “Do you do anything for yourself?”
Mahmoud stared at her, clearly confused. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t drive yourself. You don’t pay for your own purchases. Is that even your money?”
“It’s from the royal account, yes.”
“The royal account!” she sputtered. “What is that!”
“It’s my family’s money. Why is this a problem for you?”
“It’s not a problem, it’s just…”
“What?”
“We’re so different, Mahmoud.”
“Are we?”
“How can you not see it! That night at Stanford, I thought it was amazing that we were so alike. We’d both been ditched by friends, we’d both washed up alone at the same kind of lame party—”
“I didn’t think that party was lame.”
“And everything I said, you seemed to agree with. But now… Well, I don’t know. You’re this prince.”
“Sheikh.”
“Yeah. And you never worry about the things I worry about, like paying the electric bill or what your boss thinks of you.”
“I have worries.”
“What are they? Whether or not to invade a neighboring country?”
He laughed. “Ellie, we’re pacifists. We’re not going to invade anyone.”
“Oh.”
“Did you do any reading before you came here?”
“The trip was kind of last minute. And it’s hard to find literature on Al Fahad, even online.”
He broke off a segment of orange and handed it to her.
Ellie popped it in her mouth. Mahmoud was right; it must have been in season. It was perfectly tangy and sweet. She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the taste. “I love oranges.”
When she opened her eyes, Mahmoud was smiling. “Then we have one thing in
common.”
Chapter 19
Mahmoud
He was surprised by Ellie’s shift in mood at the market. Why was this experience suddenly making her question her ability to relate to him?
At one stall, a vendor was selling silver jewelry inlaid with precious stones. Mahmoud ran his fingers over a sapphire necklace. “This would look pretty on you.”
Ellie shifted uncomfortably. “I really don’t need it.”
“I think you do.” He held it out as if to fasten it around her wrist.
She stepped back, away from him. “I don’t.”
Mahmoud was puzzled. “Are you angry with me?”
“Did you just bring me here to buy me things?”
“No, that isn’t the only reason.”
“But that’s one reason.”
“It’s a market. Of course I planned on buying things.”
“Things for me.”
“Ellie. I have a royal account, remember.”
“Now you’re just showing off.”
“Of course I was planning to pay for things,” he said. “You’re here as my guest.”
She hesitated.
“Ellie. Let me buy you this. It’s pretty, and it would look pretty on you, and I won’t miss the money.”
“Fine,” Ellie agreed, finally. “But only because I want to support this man’s business.”
The vendor flashed them both a big grin.
Mahmoud held out the bracelet. Ellie allowed him to fasten it around her wrist. She turned her arm side to side and they both watched the sunlight glint off the gems.
“It really is very pretty,” she conceded.
“I think so.”
“Thank you.”
“It was my pleasure.”
They walked on. At a tapestry stall, Mahmoud stopped to admire a wall hanging that depicted a sunset. It was incredibly realistic, practically glowing with pinks and yellows that seemed to jump off the fabric. He fingered it delicately and examined the price tag.
“Don’t buy me this,” Ellie said. “I wouldn’t have anywhere to put it.”
