His Queen by Desert Decree(37)

Molly’s face lit up the instant she saw him, the excitement she couldn’t control flying up inside her like fireworks shooting across the heavens. He should have seemed so foreign to her in his traditional clothing, she told herself weakly, but when she laid eyes on his lean, darkly beautiful face, he was simply Azrael and nothing could detract from the surge of heat and happiness travelling through her. Yet this same man had not even come to welcome his bride back to Djalia, her brain reminded her stubbornly, and she struggled to control her fiery emotions.

‘I can see that you’re busy as usual,’ she said lightly, recognising his Mr Grumpy expression for what it was. ‘But you should have at least come to say hello.’

‘Should I have?’ Azrael countered in a steely tone she had not heard from him before because he was determined to confront her with her dishonesty.

‘Yes, you should’ve done,’ Molly responded simply. ‘It was sort of a little disrespectful that you didn’t make the effort and I’m sure it looked strange to the staff—’

‘My staff do not judge me and I am not disrespectful,’ Azrael parried with hauteur.

‘Obviously you’re not in the best mood,’ Molly remarked frankly, fully registering that reality from his rigid stance and forbidding expression. ‘And I’m not very good with moody people. I was taught that it’s bad manners to take your moods out on other people.’

‘As was I,’ Azrael gritted, fighting a very strong urge to grip her by the shoulders and demand to know how she could smile and act hurt when she had been lying to him almost from the moment he had met her.

‘Clearly it didn’t work in your case,’ Molly muttered hesitantly, reluctant to have a row with him the night before the wedding and deciding that sometimes the best policy was to retreat rather than to fan the flames. ‘Look, I’ll go back upstairs, leave you to work in peace—’

Azrael settled sizzling dark golden eyes on her troubled face. ‘You lied to me!’ he accused with staggering abruptness, unable to restrain his fury any longer.

Hugely taken aback by the accusation and with her hand already on the door knob, Molly frowned. ‘I’ve never lied to you about anything—’

‘I have found you out. There is no grandfather in a care home!’ Azrael ground out in condemnation. ‘He doesn’t exist...you made him up!’

Molly was in shock, her lashes fluttering up and down on his lean, darkly angry face as she wondered wildly if he had been drinking, or if indeed there was a whole other crazy side to Azrael that she was only now seeing. She had never seen him that angry and it was more than a little unnerving, she was willing to admit. A very strong sense of self-preservation made her flip open the door and head straight back to the stairs.

‘Come back here!’ Azrael called after her.

Azrael was shouting where he could be heard, Molly registered in disbelief. Azrael, who was very courteous, well-disciplined and always conscious of listening ears. It freaked Molly out. Thoroughly disconcerted by his uncharacteristic behaviour, Molly fled up the stairs as though all the hounds of hell were on her tail. What did he mean that her grandfather didn’t exist? How could he make such an insane allegation?

‘I will bring coffee to the salon, Your Majesty,’ Haifa assured her at the top of the stairs.

‘Not now, thank you,’ Molly muttered, nervously conscious that Azrael was thundering up the stairs behind her and hastening on down the corridor.

Behind her she heard him rap out a staccato instruction to the housekeeper and she kept on moving, finally darting into the reception room at the foot of the corridor that opened out onto a charming rooftop garden. The French windows stood wide on the sunlight and, mindful of Azrael’s mood, Molly hastily slammed them shut.

‘You will explain yourself right now!’ Azrael launched at her wrathfully, lodging in the doorway like an immovable rock.

Molly flipped round, her slight body whip taut with tension. The unvarnished anger he could not hide disturbed her because she could not understand what could possibly have changed between them while they had been apart. ‘How can I explain myself when I don’t understand what you’re talking about?’

‘Of course you know what I’m talking about!’ Azrael thundered back at her with conviction.

‘Do I?’ Molly’s own temper was finally beginning to rouse in the face of his seething animosity. And the shock of such a welcome when she had naïvely hoped for a much warmer reception was affecting her outlook as well. She was learning that she didn’t know Azrael as well as she had fondly believed and she wasn’t enjoying what she was discovering. She was even reconsidering what she had read about Princess Nasira and wondering just how much she could trust Azrael. That was a serious question that went right to the heart of their relationship.