“Is everything all right?” Casey asked.
Muttering under his breath, Khalid tossed the note aside. He had no idea what was wrong, but something was. Standing, he hoisted himself out of the bath. The attendant held his robe for him. He wrapped it around him and then glanced at Casey.
She was staring at him, eyes wide, lips parted and it took every ounce of will not to strip off his robe and climb into her tub. She closed her mouth and Khalid told her, “Dress. We must return to the palace. I think my father noticed we were missing.”.
6
Casey was having a hard time keeping focused. The image of Khalid naked, his skin glistening and all those muscles on display kept circling in her mind, teasing her, leaving her mouth dry and her pulse a little too fast. She’d figured him to be fit—she’d had no idea he’d be utterly stunning, with long legs and a lean body, and abs that would make any man jealous and any woman want to put her hands on him.
Down, girl.
She should focus on the fact that Khalid’s father had hunted down Khalid for some reason—she didn’t know what.
Khalid seemed both tense and quiet on the drive back, and she couldn’t blame him. So far her take on the sultan was that he was way too used to getting his own way—in other words, a lot like Luke only worse.
The limo pulled up in front of the palace. Casey got out without waiting for the driver again, which seemed to exasperate the man, given the way he huffed out a breath and rolled his eyes. She did, however, wait for Khalid so she could climb the front steps with him.
They found the sultan in the main hall, pacing the floor, looking far too much like an elderly, caged bear that wasn’t too happy. He stopped his pacing and turned on Khalid. “What was so important that you could not stay?”
Khalid shrugged and put an arm over Casey’s shoulder. She stiffened—just what was he planning? “Why should I say? I have a bride to be to entertain. What—did you think marriage would change my ways?”
The sultan’s face reddened. Casey glanced from him to Khalid and decided she was done being a pawn for this night. Obviously, Khalid was using this sham of an engagement to irritate his father and his father was just about as easy to poke as a bear in a cage. More importantly, if Khalid picked a fight with his father right this second, the whole engagement might end up being tossed out and her along with it and she’d never get her interview.
Slipping out from under Khalid’s arm—and okay, it felt more than good, but she needed a brain back—she offered up what she hopped was a charming smile for the sultan. “We’ve been to Med-Men, the spa, and I’m starting to think I should take up travel writing. Why if more folks knew about that place, you’d be overrun with tourists. It’s an amazing place. A muntajae sihi, Khalid called it. You should be proud of such an attraction.”
The flatter seemed to sooth some of the sultan’s sour mood. His color settled. He smoothed his mustache and turned to Khalid. “Nevertheless, it was inappropriate to abandon our guests as if you were a boy with no thought to your duties.”
Now Casey wanted to roll her eyes—did these two never give up picking at each other? The sultan needed a few lessons in how to parent, and Khalid needed a few in how to prove to his father that he could be trusted. Instead, the two men stared at each other, as if each of them was waiting for the other one to blink. Casey decided enough was enough.
Faking a yawn—and she had no idea if that was rude or not—she stretched and then said, “Think I’ll turn in. Good night.” She headed for the stairs, leaving father and son to sort out whatever they could. At least she didn’t hear shouting coming up the stairs after her, just some low words swapped—no doubt the two of them poking at each other still—and then a firm set of steps.
From the top landing, she glanced back to see Khalid coming up the steps after her. He offered up a crooked smile. “My father ordered me to see you to your room to ensure you might be comfortable.”
She propped on hand on her hip. “You do know he does that just to see if you’re going to jump when he cracks that verbal whip of his.”
Khalid lifted a shoulder as if it didn’t matter to him, but she could see his mouth tighten. She was going to bet he didn’t like being treated as if he was twelve still—what man would? Mouth relaxing, Khalid reached her side. “Fathers and sons in this family have always been half at war—the stories I have heard of my grandfather from my uncles have him being a worse tyrant than my father.”
“You know that still doesn’t make it right.”