“Oh, congratulations. Daidan didn’t tell me you were expecting.”
Sahmir glanced at Daidan. “Daidan keeps a lot to himself,” he said wryly.
Daidan shrugged. “Personal matters should be kept personal.”
Sahmir clapped Daidan on the back. “Didn’t anyone tell you that family is personal?”
“If you care to freshen up and go to your room, Taina,” said Tariq. “Cara will call you shortly.”
“That would be lovely.” And she was sure it would be, even though she felt something of an impostor. These two women were happily married to Daidan’s brothers and she—she was married, but only just. What would they make of her?
“Daidan”—Tariq turned to his brother—“take your beautiful wife to your suite and we’ll catch up shortly. Welcome back. It’s been too long.”
Daidan led her out through a beautiful courtyard full of fountains and luxuriant flowers, bushes and trees. The smell of pungent flowers and damp soil was a relief after the dry heat outside.
“You didn’t tell me it was all so beautiful,” she said as they walked down a corridor with open arched windows to one side, in which fragrant climbers drifted in the desert breeze. “It’s like a paradise. I can’t believe you prefer to live in Finland when you have all this.”
He stopped by a dark wooden door, studded with large nails. “I don’t have all this. That is the point. This is all Tariq’s. He was groomed to be king by my grandfather and father.” He looked around at the grandeur. “None of this is mine.” Then he looked at her. “And I wouldn’t want it anyway. Finland is my home like this never was.”
She frowned. “But Sahmir isn’t the king and he seems quite happy.”
“My younger brother is not me.”
She couldn’t help grinning. “In that he’s charming, smiling and friendly?”
“Exactly.” He returned her grin. “But he’s also created a new life for himself in his wife’s country in southern Europe. He spends half his time there, and half in Ma’in.” He opened the door for her and she stepped inside their suite.
“Oh my!” She dropped her handbag onto the sofa and walked over to the open windows. “Daidan, this is like a dream.”
He followed her to the window which looked out over the internal courtyard. Above the tops of the palms and the wing of the palace opposite, the sea was visible—a brilliant strip of azure. He didn’t answer but simply stood behind her. Then she felt his touch on her arm. “Thank you for coming. It means a lot.”
She turned to face him. “It’s my pleasure. Thank you for inviting me.”
He smiled. “We’re both being terribly polite for a married couple.”
“Ah, that’s because we’ve not been together long. Hardly at all as a married couple.”
“So we’re still in our courtship phase then.”
“Definitely.”
“And how do you know this?”
Should she tell him? “Because my heart trips a beat when you enter the room; because everyone else pales into insignificance beside you; and then, when you look at me, I feel a fluttering in my stomach of pure desire.”
He’d pulled her to him, lifting her chin with his finger, and brought his lips to hers in a gentle and tender kiss. “Hold that thought until later,” he murmured against her lips. “Because, now noisy children and curious sisters-in-law await.”
“Do you ride?” asked Aurora, Sahmir’s wife, trying to ease her heavily pregnant body into a more comfortable position as she accepted a non-alcoholic pre-dinner drink. The afternoon had passed pleasantly with them all getting to know each other and evening had now fallen and dinner was about to be served.
“No,” Taina replied. “No, I never learned. I was brought up in Helsinki and when we went to our country home”—she shrugged—“we swam in summer and skied in winter. My father didn’t keep horses. How about you?”
Cara laughed. “Rory’s never off her horse when she’s here.”
“Nor at home.” Rory twisted her thick coil of hair and pulled it to one side. “For half the year we live in the principality of Roche. Which borders France,” she added by way of explanation.
“Oh, I’m often in Paris.”
“Ever come to the south?”
“Rarely.”
“Then you must start. It’s very beautiful. And much warmer than Helsinki, I bet.”
Taina grinned, liking the French woman’s directness. “I’m sure you’re right. It depends on work but I’ll talk with Daidan and—” At that moment Daidan walked over and put his arm possessively around her waist.