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The Chatsfield Collection Books 1-8. Annie West
Читать онлайн.Название The Chatsfield Collection Books 1-8
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781472095862
Автор произведения Annie West
Серия Mills & Boon e-Book Collections
Издательство HarperCollins
AS THE MINUTES wore on, a need for the restroom broke through Liyah’s consuming thoughts.
Loathe to interrupt Sayed in his furious typing on the computer he’d pulled out, she tried to ignore the growing urgency.
She grabbed a magazine from the pocket to the side of her chair and laid it on the table, hoping the glossy stories about other people’s lives would keep her mind occupied and off her biological needs. She flipped through the pages, nothing catching her attention.
Shifting slightly from one side to the other helped, but pretty soon she was going to have to ask Sayed to move.
Suddenly, he stopped typing and leaned toward her. “Are you all right, habibti?”
“Yes, I just, um...” Liyah wasn’t just repressed about sex, but found talking about any private bodily functions a trial.
Which was ridiculous, she realized. She was an adult woman, for goodness’ sake.
“You should have told me you were a virgin.” Sayed frowned at her. “I could have shown more restraint with you last night.”
“Are you trying to undo a lifetime of repression in a single day, or something?” If asking him to move so she could use the restroom would have been embarrassing, this was mortifying. “I’m fine.”
“You are clearly in pain.”
“I need to pee,” she huffed out in a furious whisper, frustrated by her own reticence and his insistence.
“Why did you not say so?” He rose, allowing her to exit her seat.
When she got back, she considered sitting across from him, but didn’t gainsay him when he stood again so she could retake her seat by the window.
Once she was settled in again, he handed her an electronic reader. “It has most of the recent bestsellers, but if you want to download something else, the plane is set up with wireless internet.”
“Thank you. The magazines would have been fine.”
“Nonsense. Though, really, you should probably take a nap.”
Startled, she asked, “I look tired?”
“Perhaps a little. It has been a full and wearing day.”
He could say that again. “For you, too, but I don’t see you dozing in your chair.”
“The last time I napped, stuffed animals still decorated my bed.” He smiled. “Getting six hours of sleep in a row is a luxury for me.”
“But that’s not healthy.”
He shrugged. “Such is the life of an emir taking over the responsibilities of a melech with no younger brother to take over my own diplomatic duties.”
“Why is your father abdicating? Does he have health issues?” she asked before realizing it was probably an invasive query. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer.”
“I never answer questions I do not wish to.”
“Arrogance has its benefits.”
He smiled. “I suppose so. I do not mind telling you my father is in excellent health.”
“Is he tired of being king?” she probed, trying to understand the heavy responsibilities being thrust on Sayed.
“Not at all.”
“Then why?”
“It is tradition.”
“Will your father take over the diplomatic stuff once he’s no longer acting melech?”
Sayed jerked, as if surprised by the question. “That would not be in line with Zeena Sahran tradition. I am not sure my father would find taking orders from his son a comfortable circumstance.”
“But the melech dictates political policy?”
“With the help of a cabinet of counselors, yes. My father will act as one of my advisers, as well.”
It still wasn’t making sense to her. “So, what, your father is just going to retire and start golfing, or something? Won’t he get bored?” How much time could it take to give Sayed advice every day?
Maybe she didn’t understand working monarchies, but she could not imagine a former king content to sit home twiddling his thumbs.
“Honestly? I have wondered the same thing myself. My father is a very dynamic man and I do not think he would enjoy the pursuits that kept my grandfather busy in his twilight years.”
“So, why retire now? Do you want to take over as melech?”
“No one has ever asked me that.” He looked at her like she was some kind of rare species he’d never seen before.
“Maybe they should have. What’s the answer?”
“My duty is clear.”
“Yes, but is it one you want, or even need, to take on right now?”
“You question things you cannot hope to understand.”
“Maybe.” But he still hadn’t answered the question and Liyah thought that was telling.
Sayed went back to his computer, dismissing her. Refusing to take it personally, Liyah skimmed his download of that morning’s copy of The Times. He had probably been happy to note there was no mention of Tahira’s elopement, but it would certainly be in tomorrow’s edition.
After a while, she set the reader down, intending to take that nap he suggested.
But as soon as she closed her eyes, everything started pressing in on her. The argument with her father played over in her mind like an unpleasant reality show. When she managed to push those images aside, then pictures of the night before rose up to fill the void.
An unrelenting montage of the sensual and profound that uselessly fed her newly discovered love.
Sighing, she opened her eyes.
It didn’t help. Her mind and heart were determined to dwell on emotions and experiences she would have been better off without.
Sayed turned from his work at his computer. “You are very pensive, Aaliyah.”
“Don’t you think I have reason to be?” She rubbed her temples. “I may not be an emir, but my whole life just took a ninety-degree turn.”
“Perhaps you needed a detour.”
“Do you think you know what’s best for everybody?”
“It is in the job description.”
“Right.”
He smiled.
And she almost smiled back. Darn him.
That nap was sounding better and better. If only she could sleep, but then she’d probably dream about him. She’d done that before they’d made love. Now the dreams would probably be even more frequent and, with her new knowledge, definitely more graphic.
She expected him to go back to his work, but he didn’t. “You said something yesterday about having a confrontation with your father being the reason you’d broken into Tahira’s liquor stash.”
Liyah opened her mouth to deflect, but she wanted to discuss the painful event with someone and Sayed was offering. “Yes.”
“It did not go well?”
“No.”
“You alluded to him treating you very poorly.” Sayed’s dark gaze probed hers.
“He did.”
“You