Protecting the Desert Princess(6)

                Again the King closed his eyes as Layla hit a still raw nerve.

                He hadn’t loved her from the moment she was born.

                In fact the King had rejected Layla for more than a year. Sometimes Fahid wondered if that was why Layla was so rebellious and constantly challenged him, even if she couldn’t logically know about that time.

                He worried so much about her—especially knowing that soon he would be gone from his world. Surely Layla needed a stern husband like Hussain, who would keep her in line?

                He would just miss the wild Layla so…

                ‘Do you have any questions you wish to ask?’ Fahid offered.

                ‘I do.’ Layla nodded. ‘Father, I was looking up the customs in Australia—I thought I would find out who curtsies to me, who bows, and what gifts we should exchange, but instead I read that at the airport your property can be searched—even your body…’ She paused when she saw her father’s reaction. ‘Why are you laughing?’

                ‘Oh, Layla!’ The King wiped his eyes as he tried to halt his laughter. ‘That does not apply to you. Your retinue will take care of all the paperwork and luggage and our gifts are in the diplomatic pouch. You do not have to concern yourself with such things.’

                ‘Thank you, Father.’

                He rose from his seat and came over and took her in his arms. ‘I love you, Layla.’

                ‘I love you too,’ Layla said, and hugged him back, but there were tears filling her eyes as she did so. ‘I am sorry if I make you cross at times—please know that it doesn’t mean I don’t love you.’

                ‘I know that,’ Fahid said.

                What the King didn’t know, though, was that Layla was not apologising for her past.

                Instead she was saying sorry for all that was to come.





                                      CHAPTER TWO

                ‘GREAT!’

                Mikael had no choice but to pull to a stop as a policeman put up his hand and halted the morning traffic.

                Even though he had more than enough on his mind, with closing arguments starting this morning, he flicked on the news to listen to the traffic report and hopefully find out the reason for the hold-up. He knew that he should have stayed at his city apartment, or even a hotel, instead of driving to his waterfront home last night, but he had just needed to get away from the case.

                Mikael’s remote beachside home was his haven, and last night he had needed to escape from the more pungent details of the case he was consumed by and breathe in fresh air and simply switch off.

                It would be over soon, Mikael told himself.

                ‘Pizdet.’ He cursed in Russian when he found out that the reason for the delay was some visiting royal family, grinding everyone else to a halt.

                Then he heard a little about himself as the news continued.

                Mikael Romanov, SC, was surely going to lose this time…there was no way he could get his client off…

                Then the calls in from listeners started and a character assassination ensued. Not of his client but himself.