She stared at him uncertainly for a moment and he imagined how hard it must have been for her, all of nineteen years old, devastated by grief and so utterly alone, trying to assert herself against the sanctimonious prigs of her Council. The fact that she was still here, still strong, both amazed and humbled him.‘You can do it,’ he said softly. ‘You can do anything you set your mind to, Amira. I know that. I’ve seen it.’She gave him a small, tremulous smile. ‘Except maybe make a fire in the middle of the desert.’He felt himself grin back at her. ‘There were a few flames going there. If that snake hadn’t come along...’‘If you hadn’t come along,’ she shot back, her smile widening, and then she drew her up and turned towards the double gold-paneled doors.He watched as she threw open the doors, grinned at the sight of twelve slack-jawed, middle-aged men rising hastily to their feet as Amira walked into the room.‘Good afternoon, gentlemen,’ she greeted them regally, and Abdullah had t

Their wedding took place in the palace chapel, with only the Council members and their wives, as well as a few ambassadors and diplomats, in attendance.Amira wore a cream silk sheath dress and a matching fascinator, no veil or bouquet, or really anything bridal at all. She’d picked the outfit with the help of her stylist when she’d arrived in Muscat, thinking only of what image she wanted to present to her public. She’d wanted to seem like a woman in control of her country and her destiny, perfectly prepared to begin this businesslike marriage.She hadn’t wanted to look like a woman in love, yet she knew now that was what she was. And as she turned to Abdullah to say her vows she wished, absurdly, perhaps, for a meringue of a dress and a great, big bouquet, a lovely lace veil and a father to give her away.Never mind, she told herself. It’s the marriage that matters, not the wedding. Yet what kind of marriage would she have with Abdullah?Last night had been so tender, so wonderful a

As they left the airport for Aunt’s Diyannah townhouse near the Ile de la Cité Abdullah marveled at the change in himself. He felt like some shell-less creature, pink, raw and exposed, everything out there for another person’s examination. It was a strange and uncomfortable feeling, but it wasn’t necessarily bad.He’d been glad to tell Amira about his childhood, his aunt, his own fears and weaknesses. He’d never talked that way to another soul, yet he craved that kind of honesty with Amira.He just didn’t know what to do next. How it all would actually work. Take one step at a time, he supposed. For now he needed to think about Aunt Diyannah.He’d phoned her from Muscat, so she was waiting as their limo drew up to her townhouse and their security detail quickly got out to check the surrounding area.Aunt Diyannah came out to the front steps, her face wreathed in a tremulous smile, her wispy white hair blowing in the breeze. She looked so much older, Abdullah thought with a pang, and h

Amira paced the salon of Diyannah’s townhouse, her mind spinning, her heart aching. Abdullah had left that morning, right after that awful confrontation, and although it was nearing midnight he had still not returned.Diyannah had gone to bed, after reassuring her that Abdullah would return soon and things would look better in the morning. Amira had felt like shaking her. Things wouldn’t look any better in the morning, not for Abdullah. She knew what kind of man he was, how strong and proud. How he’d built everything on the foundation that the throne of Jumeirah Dubai was his by right. To have it taken away would devastate him...and he would be too proud to admit it.And how would he be feeling, knowing that the man he’d thought was his father wasn’t? That the truths he’d insisted on believing for so long, that had been sustaining him, were actually lies?She longed to see him, to put her arms around him and comfort him. To tell him it didn’t matter to her whether he was Sheikh or not

And up. And up.Aaliyah knew where she was going. She’d dutifully looked at the images while flying over the Gulf Countries. The Hermitage had been built centuries ago to honor a Sohoian king. It had been carved into the mountain itself and still stood proudly, famous for the lights that beamed out from this otherwise restricted island when a royal was in residence, like a beacon over the archipelago.Or like the ego of the man she knew waited within.But there was no point in worrying about him just yet, Alliyah told herself. First, there was living through this hike.The wind picked up as she trudged up the path, doing her best to huddle against the side of the mountain without seeming to do exactly that. She did still have her pride, after all. Pride that was hard-won and well deserved—and she was keenly aware that every step she took drew her closer and closer to one of the major reasons she’d had to fight so hard in the first place.She didn’t like to think about those last few w