Protecting the Desert Princess(27)

                                      CHAPTER SEVEN

                MIKAEL WAS UNSURE of his reception when he knocked on Layla’s hotel room door a few hours after Wendy would have delivered her back there.

                ‘You were fantastic!’ Layla opened the door, her smile beaming. She was back in her red dress and sparkly shoes. ‘Oh, my, Mikael—you almost had me!’

                ‘Almost?’ he checked.

                ‘That bastard is as guilty as hell but, wow, you were amazing!’

                ‘You’re the strangest woman I have ever met.’

                ‘I was hoping to see you close up in your robes and wig. Why didn’t you meet me for lunch?’

                ‘Layla…’ He was about to point out that it was only by some miracle that he’d even remembered she had no money and would have no idea what to do for lunch and so had contacted Wendy, but he left it.

                He was relieved by her reception.

                Pleased, even.

                Layla had been right. He did not care what others thought of him—not a single bit.

                He had today.

                It was a relief not to have to justify himself.

                ‘How was lunch?’ Mikael asked instead.

                ‘I had a burger with the lot and it was fantastic. Wendy isn’t much fun, though, is she?’

                ‘Wendy is an incredibly busy woman and it was nice of her to give up her lunch for you.’

                ‘Give up her lunch?’ Layla frowned. ‘But she ate more than I did.’

                She looked at Mikael; he was so very handsome. and she liked it when he smiled—which he was now. Layla knew it was rare, and that he was not a very happy person, and she loved the light it brought to his eyes.

                ‘So what now?’ she asked.

                ‘We wait for the verdict.’

                ‘I mean what happens now?’

                ‘Do you want to go out for dinner?’

                ‘Pardon?’ Layla smiled.

                ‘Would you like to go out somewhere nice for dinner.’

                ‘Somewhere romantic,’ Layla corrected. ‘Yes, please, Mikael.’

                He took her to a waterside restaurant. Yes, the view was to die for, and usually he would have asked for a table outside, but tonight their only view would be of each other, and he asked for their most intimate table.

                ‘This is lovely,’ Layla said as she slipped in to her side of a velvet booth. ‘Oh, our knees are touching!’

                ‘Better?’ Mikael asked, moving his.

                ‘No,’ she said, because she’d liked the feel of his knees near hers. When he moved them back she smiled. ‘That’s better.’

                ‘Do you want wine?’