He smiled. “You are willing to spend time with me, even after I behaved like such an ass?”
“Yes.” A smile played around her own lips. “But we have to stay in stealth mode.”
If she had a chance to spend time with him before the inevitable and growing-closer expiry date of their association, she’d take it.
“We could go into the desert. Our family has been going to the same retreat since the first melech.”
“Like your Camp David?”
“If Camp David stepped out of an Arabian Nights fantasy, yes.”
“Really?” She made no effort to hide her enthusiasm.
“Absolutely. Will you come with me?”
The spark of uncertainty and steady burn of desire in his espresso gaze decided her. “Yes.”
“Pack a bag. We’ll spend at least one night.”
“Can you afford to take this time off?”
“Taking myself out of the equation for the moment will actually make it easier for my father to effect his own form of diplomacy.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“Not really, but he yells a lot more than me. He can posture without me there as a witness to force the others to draw a line in the sand.”
“Not a hard thing to do in the desert.”
“But sandstorms have a habit of obliterating those lines.”
“And Melech Falah is the sandstorm?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Then what are you?”
“The voice of rationality everyone will want to deal with after three days of my father’s chest pounding.”
“It’s good cop/bad cop.”
“On an international scale, yes.” He grinned, clearly pleased with himself and his father.
She couldn’t help returning the smile.
* * *
Sayed hadn’t been exaggerating. The royal family’s retreat was like a set from Arabian Nights, only every silk hanging and antique Turkish carpet was genuine.
They spent three days exploring the desert, Sayed showing Liyah the beauty of his country in his own unique way.
And they made love. Often and in romantic settings she would never have envisioned.
The last day, he took her to an oasis where he had a semipermanent tent set up. He said the herdsmen used it, but when he took her inside it smelled of sweet jasmine and was filled with silk blankets and pillows.
She twirled around, her silk abayah flowing gently around her. “This is no herdsmen’s tent.”
“No, today it is the tent for the emir and his lover.”
She didn’t deny the label like she might have three days before. Their affair might be short-lived, but she would never be the same and she didn’t think he would, either.