It wasn’t until the lift doors opened on the seventh floor she wondered what she was going to actually do. She’d been acting on pure instinct, but now she realised it might be a little more complicated than to burst into his suite and demand to see him.
She was such an idiot. Karim Al Rahhbi would be there. Security staff. He wouldn’t be alone.
But he still might need her.
Polly wrenched her bag open and pulled out the piece of paper on which she’d written the numbers she’d needed when she called her mother. It was the best idea she had. Better anyway than being turned away at the door.
She rang the hotel’s number and waited while the receptionist answered. ‘Hello, I’m Ms Pollyanna Anderson from Room 7 on the fifth floor. Can you put me through to His Highness, Prince Rashid bin Khalid bin Abdullah Al Baha’s suite please?’ She even managed to sound confident.
Even so, she was slightly surprised when the line crackled and a voice spoke. ‘Miss Anderson, this is Karim Al Rahhbi. The prince is resting—’
‘Yes, I know.’ She cut across him. ‘Ask him if he wants to speak to me.’
There was a significant pause while Karim decided to do just that. ‘I will do so,’ he said in his perfectly correct English. ‘One moment, Miss Anderson.’
The line crackled again and it seemed to Polly it stayed that way for the longest time. More than enough time to realise what a huge assumption she’d made. The last thing she wanted to do was to make things more difficult for Rashid—and she didn’t want to embarrass herself either.
The truth was she had a need to be here because she loved him. She couldn’t bear knowing he was hurting and not be with him. That didn’t mean he felt the same way.
And then came the realisation Rashid’s aide might have flown to Al-Jalini on entirely different business. Rashid might have declined joining them because he preferred other company. He might…
‘Polly?’
The pressure in her heart on hearing his voice was painful. ‘Is there news? We thought—’
‘My father has died.’
‘Oh, Rashid. I’m so…so sorry.’
It was the end, then. Of so many things.
Polly stood clutching her mobile phone, so many thoughts passing through her mind. She thought of Bahiyaa. Of Rashid. Of what it would mean to Amrah. And she thought of Minty and knew she’d be flying back to the UK first thing in the morning.
It was possible they’d return to Amrah to finish making their programme, but that would only be if there was political stability. There would be no need for her to see Rashid after today. Their lives would separate, just as she had always known they would.
She might see him again at a distance. At Shelton, perhaps, surrounded by beautiful women vying for his attention. As they’d been that first time. Or perhaps she’d never be any closer to him than seeing a picture in a magazine.
‘Where are you?’
It was tempting to lie. ‘I’m outside.’
‘Outside?’
‘Your suite,’ she clarified. ‘Seventh floor. Just by the lifts.’ Nothing quite like committing emotional suicide, Polly thought. If he hadn’t realised she’d fallen in love with him he’d surely know it now. Her heart was beating so hard it actually hurt.
And then she saw him, standing at the far end of the corridor, phone to his ear.
‘Polly.’
‘Hello.’ She pulled the phone from her ear and ended the call. ‘I wanted to know what had happened. Was it peaceful? The end?’
Rashid held his phone loosely in his left hand. ‘I believe so. I scarcely know, I…’
He brushed his free hand across his eyes. ‘Come in.’
She paused only long enough to stow her phone away in her bag, then walked slowly up the length of the corridor. What she wanted to do was run at him, wrap her arms around him and hold him so tight.
Reality wasn’t quite like that, though. There was this enormous fear of being rejected, of having not quite understood what had been going on between them. And then there was Rashid’s expression. The skin on his face appeared so pale it was almost translucent and his eyes were bleak. Unseeing.
He drew her in, past the bodyguards standing at the doorway. Karim stood up and moved to greet her. ‘As-salaam alaykum.’
‘Wa alaykum as-salaam,’ she murmured.
The one thing she didn’t feel was ‘peace’. Karim looked past her.
‘Please leave us for a few minutes,’ Rashid said. ‘I will send for you the moment Miss Anderson leaves.’
What was left of hope shrivelled. She would be leaving. Soon. And Rashid had things he needed to be doing. Things that didn’t involve her.
The door clicked shut. So quiet and yet it sounded loud to Polly. ‘Have I broken some rule by coming here?’ she asked, meeting his eyes properly for the first time.
Rashid shook his head. ‘Karim is aware I have something to tell you. It must be done before you leave.’
‘Am I leaving?’
Something flared in his eyes. For a moment Polly was glad to see an expression of something and then fear kicked in. She was leaving. He had said so.
‘Within the next couple of hours,’ Rashid concurred. ‘Karim has already made all the necessary arrangements.’
Polly found herself a chair and sat down. That probably broke some Amrahi etiquette, but she wasn’t so sure her legs were going to hold out much longer if she kept on standing. Everything was going wrong. It was happening and she was powerless to stop it.
‘I have spoken to your friend, Miss Woodville-Brown, and she sees no reason to delay your departure.’
‘Is there danger?’ Polly asked in a small voice.
‘There is a significant risk of terrorist incident.’
‘I—’
‘The choice isn’t yours to make,’ Rashid cut across her.
‘No.’
‘My grandfather is in shock and has yet to name his successor. He has three days.’ Rashid paced across to the window and drew back the curtains.
From where she was sitting Polly could see the garden illuminations, Rashid’s reflection in the window.
‘We have a grieving and very elderly King. Men opposed to Hanif becoming King will need to act quickly. And they will.’
Rashid’s voice was like flint. ‘All embassies will council caution during this interim period, remove what personnel isn’t considered essential. God willing, it will be of short duration.’
‘I’m so sorry.’ She could think of nothing else to say. ‘What will you do?’
‘As soon as I know you are safe I will return to Samaah.’
‘To Bahiyaa?’
‘I need to be seen in the city. By being there I can instil confidence, minimise the consequences of the next few days.’
Dangerous things. He might even be killed. ‘Ra—’
‘Polly,’ he interrupted her, ‘there is something I need to tell you. Something you will discover as soon as you return home.’
His words seemed torn from him. Polly lost all desire to speak at all. There seemed a recklessness about Rashid now. A steely determination to do what had to be done and she had the strangest presentiment that what needed to be done was going to hurt.
‘When I came to Shelton…’
Polly nodded because he paused.
‘I did so because I wished to see your brother. Stepbrother,’ he corrected.
‘A-about Golden Mile?’
‘You knew?’
Polly flinched at the barklike tone of his question. ‘I thought. Henry, Anthony’s butler, said you were Golden Mile’s secret purchaser. And I knew you were angry.’
‘Do you know why?’
She shook her head. Weariness seemed to be seeping into her bones. It was over. All over. What she wanted was a quiet lie-down. Somewhere private where she could lick her wounds.
Instead she was going to have a long flight home. She would have to present a calm face to the world. Hide the heartbreak that was tearing her apart.
‘Anthony isn’t a man to do business with though. It seemed to make sense.’
‘You are right.’
Polly looked up and caught the edge of Rashid’s anger. It was gone in a moment, but she’d seen it all the same. Anthony had created a powerful enemy.
He seemed to brace himself to say what came next. His jaw was set firm, his eyes holding hers with a fierce determination. ‘When I gave permission for this documentary to be made, I did so against my better judgement.’
‘I know. You showed me the docu—’
‘No, Polly. Yes, the documentary was a factor, but…’ He turned away from her as though he thought it might be easier to speak if he couldn’t see her face. ‘I thought you might be involved.’
‘In what?’ Her voice was a husky whisper, her mind racing.
‘Golden Mile is unable to sire anything.’ He waited, allowing her time to process what that meant. ‘There were all the usual safeguards in place. All the usual checks: bloods, X-rays, airways, movement and sperm.’
She’d thought leaving Amrah, leaving Rashid, would have been painful enough; she hadn’t anticipated anything like the agony she was now suffering. ‘What did you think I was here to do?’ she managed.
But she didn’t need his answer. All those conversations. The times when he’d taken her to one side to talk to her. The interest he’d shown in her life. In Shelton. All were given a new perspective now.