by Maya Blake
Brushing the feeling away, he reminded himself of the bigger picture. ‘Of course. We’ll start in the bazaar room. I’m told it’s the most photographed room in this part of the world.’
Relief tinged her voice, prompting the spark to escalate, but her words seemed harmless enough. ‘Thank you. I had hoped you wouldn’t hold my earlier lack of grace against me.’ Her smile was wide and alluring and Rahim cautioned himself not to be drawn into it.
‘I would be a fool not to forgive, especially if I hope for you to leave with a better impression of me than you arrived with.’
She glanced at him, her lower lip caught between her teeth. Rahim fought to suppress a groan.
‘The night’s still young. Let’s not be too hasty,’ she replied wryly.
Rahim sighed with a touch of melodrama. ‘Here I was hoping to enthrall everyone with my utterly adorable personality by the time the appetisers were served.’
Her laugh lit up a dark and cold place within him, and it was all he could do not to stop and drink in the sound.
‘Next you’ll be calling yourself cute and cuddly.’
One arrogant brow quirked, he shook his head. ‘You’re right, let’s not be too hasty.’
It seemed the most natural thing in the world then to offer her his arm. Her hesitation was brief but she slid her slender arm through his and fell into step beside him.
The delicate scent of her perfume engulfed them as he walked her out of the east wing. They were approaching the bazaar room when she stopped. ‘That’s incredible.’
Following the direction of her gaze, he smiled at her reaction to the centrepiece in the atrium, which sat directly underneath the central golden dome.
The solid white marble statue of the horse was surrounded by twelve cherubs wielding large flutes that spewed water into the fountain. The Arabian stallion was displayed in all his magnificent male glory, its wild and thick mane flowing in powerful abandon as it reared out of the water on its hind legs.
When she started to drift towards the fountain, Rahim lifted a hand and dismissed his trailing bodyguards. Their footsteps faded away until the only sound in the space was the splashing of the water.
‘That was my mother’s favourite horse,’ Rahim found himself confessing. ‘When he died in a racing accident, my father had this memorial built for her.’
She walked around the statue, examining it with wide-eyed fascination. When she reached the front of it, her fingers caressed the words carved in stone. ‘What does this mean?’
‘It translates loosely as Cherished One.’
A small smile lifted her mouth, one tinged with sadness a part of him recognised and commiserated with. ‘Every inch of this place is unbelievably breathtaking, almost like a fairy tale.’
Rahim tried to hide his bitterness as he answered. ‘That was the purpose behind the design. My mother wanted a fairy-tale palace. My father made sure she got exactly what she wanted.’
‘It is truly beautiful. A magical place.’ Her words were genuine, and Rahim saw her soft smile as she traced her fingers over the words once more. ‘Your father must have loved her very much if he moved heaven and earth to give her what she wanted?’
The seething sadness and underlying anger he felt when he thought about his father rose higher. ‘I guess you could say that.’
Allegra paused in her examination of the statue and glanced at him. ‘Oh? You didn’t see it that way?’
He shrugged. ‘Some would see it as love, I guess. Others might see it as an obsession that was detrimental in the long run.’
‘And you’re one of those who believe in the latter?’
Words he didn’t want to say locked in his throat. But the moment seemed to take over, the urge to share, to unburden surging from nowhere and catapulting the words from him.
‘Come with me.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Where?’
Rahim shook his head. ‘It’ll only take a moment.’ He caught her hand, his gut tensing at the sizzling contact.
His footsteps slowed as he reached the double doors that led to the north wing. Throwing it open, he flicked on the light and watched it bathe the plum and gold decor. Like elsewhere in the palace, the sweeping marble staircase was the centrepiece, designed for a princess to descend in grace and elegance.
‘Wow, I really can’t get over this place.’
Rahim, beginning to doubt his sanity in exposing himself to such disturbing memories, only nodded.
Perhaps alerted to his altered mood, Allegra completed the full admiring circle and faced him. ‘Why did you bring me here, Rahim?’
He let himself glance at the stairs. ‘You know why this wing is closed?’
‘No, there was no mention of it in the book...’
‘Of course not. That book is made for believers in fairy tales.’ She frowned at his thick cynicism, but didn’t interrupt. Only watched him as Rahim was assailed with the sudden need to pace.
‘My mother was rushing down those stairs to show my father a new ornament she’d bought when she tripped and fell. She suffered a concussion and a broken ankle and fell into a brief coma.’
He barely heard Allegra’s murmur of horror, caught up in the memory of those harrowing days and the real fear struck into his heart when he’d seen just how love could weaken a strong and noble man, a man he’d hitherto thought invincible.
‘Overnight, my father became a useless mess, neglecting everything and everyone, including his own confused and frightened son, as he’d mounted a vigil at my mother’s bedside.’
‘How long was she ill for?’
‘She was in hospital for six days. During that time I was allowed to visit her only once for five minutes. My father was terrified she could get an infection, despite the doctor’s assurances otherwise. He shut the whole world out, completely. The times when he was forced to partake in affairs of state, he would go through the motions with almost zombie-like animation. I heard some of his aides whispering about his mental state more than a few times in that week.’
‘But your mother got better?’
He whirled away from her, from the stairs that symbolised so many things he wanted to forget.
‘She came home. And aside from my father closing the north wing so he didn’t have to see where she fell, yes, things got better. But things were never the same.’
‘Because you witnessed the depth of your parents’ love?’ Allegra ventured, a gentle but haunting understanding on her face as she stared at him.
‘No. I saw the destructiveness of my father’s obsession.’
Rahim’s eyes had been wrenched wide open to the debilitating effects of love. The emotion he’d basked in and taken for granted had suddenly been what he’d feared would be his own and his beloved homeland’s eventual downfall.
‘But even then I hoped I was wrong. That what I’d witnessed from my father that week had been a temporary aberration.’ Because surely his father’s love was supposed to envelope his son and every single one of his subjects, not just his beloved wife? And that love should empower him to be a better ruler and father, not a hollowed-out wraith the moment it was threatened?
‘What happened?’ she asked from behind him.
‘My mother died four years later and my father proved to me just how much worse things could get.’
One hand slid over his bicep, pressing, surprising him with its strength. Surprising him with how much he wanted it to remain there. ‘You must have both been devastated.’
‘My father’s life ended that day.’ Khalil Al-Hadi had stopped living the moment his wife and unborn second child had died. ‘And as soon as I was able, I moved to Washington, DC.’ It was the place he’d forced himself to call home. The place he’d used the next fifteen years to forget his father and his homeland.
At first, Rahim hadn’t wanted to believe what was playing out before his very eyes. But with each day, he’d seen his reality alter alarmingly and his life slip into a frightening hell that triggered unfor
tunate reactions in him. By the time he’d realised his attempts were futile, that his father could see no further than his absolute grief, Rahim’s hedonistic lifestyle had become an addiction he hadn’t wanted to shake. He’d seen no reason to put the brakes on the heady freedom that came with little or no responsibility with matters concerning Dar-Aman. After all, if his father couldn’t be bothered to take an interest in what Rahim did, Rahim would reciprocate by cutting himself off totally from his homeland.
He rubbed absently at the pain lodged beneath his collarbone, his soul mourning just how effective his self-imposed exile had been. So much so he hadn’t known how bad things got...how badly his people had been neglected.
‘There’s more to it than that though, isn’t there?’
His mouth twisted in a caricature of a smile as he turned to face her. He stared into her clear blue eyes, wondering what it would feel like to drown in them. Collecting himself, he stalled for time. ‘There always is, habibi, as I believe there is for you too. But this is where I cop out and say I don’t wish to speak ill of the dead.’
‘Or this is where you show a chink in your armour that says you’re human.’
‘Why would I want to display such a flaw?’
‘Aren’t heroes with flaws the ones who always win the girl in the end? Or am I misquoting popular fiction?’
‘We’re not fictional characters, Allegra,’ he stated matter-of-factly. ‘Blind obsession can be harmful to the giver and the receiver. I prefer to live in reality, no matter how unpalatable it can be at times.’
His observation blew away the last of the lingering wistfulness in her eyes. He watched, fascinated, as her practical façade slid into place. ‘You’re right, we’re not living in a fairy tale. Shall we continue with the tour?’
Like a true diplomat, she made the right noises, and admired the rich frescoes and endless rows of jaw-dropping chandeliers once they reached the bazaar room, but after examining a few ornaments set on the long sideboards lining the walls, she was ready to move on. The library that had been his grandfather’s pride and joy also received praise, but it wasn’t until they reached the throne room, where all the coronations in Dar-Aman had taken place, that her eyes lit up with true interest.
‘All the crowns from the very first ruler of Dar-Aman are kept in this room.’
‘If I remember correctly, it’s also the room that holds your mother’s most extensive collection of antique treasure boxes, correct?’
He smiled. ‘Correct, although there’s another smaller, private collection,’ he replied.
Before he could give a further history, she let go of his arm and moved to the first cabinet. Rahim watched her carefully examine each ornament, enquire as to its pedigree before moving to the next.
He offered further snippets of information, but she seemed oblivious to him, her engrossment in the cabinets complete.
When a discreet cough alerted him to Harun’s presence, he turned. Nodding at his advisor’s silent signal, Rahim turned to her. ‘Your presence as guest of honour is required.’
She hid her disappointment well, but he saw it. ‘Can we return later?’
‘If you wish,’ he murmured, his instinct sending a veiled warning he couldn’t quite decipher yet. She didn’t take his arm again, and she seemed almost reluctant to leave the throne room.
When they reached the Mariam Ballroom, named after his grandmother, he made it a point to introduce her to as many dignitaries as possible. Allegra conversed intelligently, but through it all Rahim could sense her distraction, like she was wearing a mask that she was growing weary of donning.
Puzzled, he tried harder to engage her, to steer her round to what he wanted to discuss with her. It was only when he mentioned the women of Nur-Aman that she focused fully on him.
‘Are you going to put a new system in place for their education?’ she demanded after taking a bite of her sweetened fig dessert.
‘It’s in my plans to make that happen within the year. I’m also in talks with other communities in and out of Shar-el-Aman too.’
‘I’m glad to hear that,’ she said.
Rahim nodded, thankful she’d finally got on track. ‘Not just the women, but for the children especially. But before I do that I need to attend to my personal...image overhaul.’
She frowned. ‘What has your personal image got to do with anything?’
Rahim paused, knowing he’d reached the delicate part of his negotiations. ‘A lot, as you probably know.’
Her spoon clattered to her plate. ‘Only if you intend to put your self-interest above that of your people,’ she replied sharply enough to turn a few heads.
Rahim smiled at their audience through gritted teeth, then rose from the table. The sign that the banquet was officially over sent his guests rising to their feet. Unfortunately, it also meant a slight prolonging of his hosting duties as he put an end to the celebration.
By the time he finished making sufficient rounds to satisfy protocol, Allegra stood stiffly to one side, a plastic smile stretched across her face. When he reached her, he bent low and whispered tersely in her ear.
‘Let’s go and have that talk now.’
At her stiff nod, he steered her out of the ballroom, aware that they were the cynosure of numerous eyes, but frankly uncaring too much of what they thought. He’d been right in thinking she was high maintenance. Already he’d grown tired of walking on eggshells around her, and the certainty that he needed her to help restore his image was fast being chipped away by the frustration eating at him.
His office was the nearest private room. He dismissed the aide who was stationed in the outer office and ushered Allegra into his large office.
Shutting the door behind him, he led her to a leather sofa grouped before a window overlooking his private courtyard. Once she was seated, he paced before her, suddenly at a loss at how to handle this without it blowing up in his face.
He was so lost in composing the right words in his head that he didn’t realise minutes had gone by.
‘Rahim?’
His name on her lips stopped him in his tracks. Inhaling deeply, he said, ‘It is clear that your reasons for coming to Dar-Aman don’t seem to collide with mine, but there’s no reason why we can’t make this work.’
A frown gathered between her brows. ‘I... What? I don’t understand...’
Rushing forward, he sat down next to her, then immediately acknowledged what a mistake that was. This close, he could see the rise and fall of her chest beneath the band of her bodice and the shadow of her cleavage was a sight he couldn’t drag his gaze from.
He forced his eyes up, and continued. ‘I know it’s not what you normally do, but I’m willing to foot the bill for that aspect of your work.’
Her frown intensified. ‘Sorry, I really have no clue what you’re getting at.’
Rahim gritted his teeth. ‘I’m not sure whether you’re deliberately being obtuse or...’ He stopped and took a breath. ‘You’re here on behalf of the Di Sione Foundation. I’m aware of the broad parameters of the foundation’s requirements. All it would take is a little streamlining to include PR work. If it’s payment you’re worried about, I’ll see to it that you’re fully remunerated for all your efforts.’
Her mouth dropped opened in a bewildered O, then firmed again as she fought to find the words. To refuse him most likely. A wave of futile anger spread through Rahim but he pushed it down. His personal feelings didn’t matter here. All that mattered was that she agreed to help him to help his people.
Before he could plead his case further she blurted, ‘I came to Dar-Aman because you have a box in your possession. A Fabergé box. I wish to purchase it from you. That’s my only reason for being here. If you would be so kind as to name your price, I’ll arrange for payment before I leave tomorrow.’
CHAPTER SIX
ALLEGRA WATCHED SEVERAL emotions criss-cross Rahim’s face. Then his brow thundered together in an incandescent frown. ‘A...box? You made this tri
p for the sake of a box?’ Puzzled disbelief hollowed his voice.
‘Yes. But it’s not just any box, I assure you. It has special meaning to someone very close to me.’
He reeled back in his seat, shock still lingering on his face, before he surged to his feet. ‘Let me get this straight. Your visit here has nothing to do with the Di Sione Foundation or the Dar-Aman people?’ he blazed at her, his eyes so dark they were almost bronze.
She swallowed, knowing she skated on very dangerous ground and needed to tread carefully. ‘My foundation may have an interest in Dar-Aman in the future. I’m willing to look at a proposal from you, but for now my immediate need is the box...’
‘May...in the distant future?’ His voice was cold to the point of freezing. ‘So you came here and took pleasure in condemning my kingdom just for the sake of your own amusement?’
‘No, that’s not why I came here, but I can’t just switch off who I am because I’m not officially on duty. The foundation is not just my job. It’s my life.’
‘Then prove it.’
She bristled. ‘I don’t need to prove anything to you...’ Her words trailed off when he emphatically shook his head.
‘You had no intention of setting up your work here to help with restoring Dar-Aman’s profile, did you?’
‘You speak of restoring profiles and PR campaigns. That’s not what the Di Sione Foundation does. For what you want you’d be better off hiring a PR company. Perhaps my sister Bianca’s company can be more useful to you?’
A flash of colour scoured his cheekbones and his jaw gritted tightly before he answered. ‘I’m aware of what your foundation does. I’m also aware that what I’m suggesting isn’t an alien concept to you. You’ve done it before in the past.’
He gave two examples and Allegra had to concede he’d done his homework, albeit in a slightly convoluted way. ‘You’re right, but that was for an outfit geared towards rehabilitating a disaster-struck zone, not for a playboy billionaire who suddenly wants to play at being ruler to a kingdom on the brink of regaining its rightful place as a superpower after a shaky period.’
