Protecting the Desert Princess(75)

                ‘Enjoy!’ The stewardess smiled back and handed the good-looking man his first-class one-way ticket to Ishla.

                Mikael would not be enjoying the flight.

                He would be working the hardest that he ever had in his life.

                He asked for sparkling water with lime—their first drink.

                And he asked for a peeled and finely sliced apple and raspberries.

                He knew that he worked better hungry.

                As he prepared for the biggest case of his life he had no distractions. He would focus purely on Layla, on every meal, every conversation they had ever had—and he did.

                He went over and over it all in his mind, honing in on words, recalling with intricate detail every conversation that had been shared, and he worked out, too, who he might have in his defence.

                Trinity was a given, Mikael immediately decided, for she had smuggled the phone.

                Zahid?

                He loved his wife and had caused controversy himself, given that Trinity had been pregnant when they’d got married, and with Trinity buzzing in his ear… Mikael asked for more water and recalled proud Prince Zahid close to tears when he had been reunited with Layla and knew that he loved his sister.

                Yes, he had Zahid.

                But it was Layla’s father, the King, whose consent he required.

                What did Mikael know?

                He remembered Layla’s eyes filling with tears, for her father was sick.

                Noted.

                It wasn’t enough, though, Mikael knew. There was something he was missing—there just had to be more.

                Jamila?

                He thought of the old lady, who must surely love Layla, but she was set in her ways and would perhaps want tradition to be followed.

                There was something missing, but Mikael did not know what. He was going into the biggest fight of his life and yet he felt unprepared.

                Mikael pulled out his wallet and stared at the piece of paper she had given him and the dots and swirls that had proved so hard to decipher.

                Intensely private, he did not like to ask for help, and he had done his best to work her words out for himself, quite content to spend the rest of his life learning Arabic if that was what it took. But now Mikael needed every detail.

                When the stewardess came round to ask if he would like his bed prepared for sleep, Mikael shook his head and said that he would be working through the flight.

                ‘Would you mind translating this note for me?’

                ‘Of course.’ She read it and smiled. ‘“Don’t ever forget me”,’ she said. ‘It is a love saying,’ the stewardess explained. ‘Then it reads, “Wahashtini Malikah”, which means I miss you, Queen.’

                ‘Princess, perhaps?’ Mikael checked.

                ‘No.’ The stewardess shook her head. ‘That would be Wahashtini Ameera.’

                It didn’t make sense, but Mikael tried to work it out with the stewardess’s help. ‘Could it mean: I miss you, from your Queen?’ Mikael frowned, for Layla had never said that in marrying Hussain she would one day be queen.