A thousand possible responses to that flooded her. There was outrage and insult aplenty. She couldn’t deny that. And maybe, buried way down beneath it, some kind of hurt, too.Because she certainly remembered him. Every single day, whether she liked it or not.But in all of this, it had never occurred to her that he would fail to remember her in turn.She wasn’t sure she believed him. Even so, she wanted to remind him exactly who she was and who she’d been to him, if briefly. So much that she ached with all the things she didn’t say. She wanted to give him dates and times and even produce the one photograph she had of the two of them together, but she didn’t.Because if he didn’t remember her, Aaliyah couldn’t influence him one way or the other, and that was her entire reason for being here.And if she couldn’t influence him, if she didn’t have the leverage on him that Hannah Russo had imagined she would, Aaliyah might as well turn right around and leave.There was a different kind of

Omar Farouq did not react to that. Not outwardly. For his treacherous, murderous cousin Khalid Abu Bakir would take that throne over Omar Farouq Abu Bakir’s dead body.Something his cousin would no doubt take great pleasure in producing for the country, but Omar Farouq was ready for Khalid Abu Bakir and his machinations. He had done nothing these last two years but prepare for the day he would come down from this mountain and clean up the mess Khalid had made.“The throne is not in jeopardy,” he said now. “I’ve told Hannah and all the rest of my ministers this myself. The Hermitage might look ancient, but I assure you, it is sufficiently wired to carry the concerns of my country to my ears at all times of the day and night. Sohar is not running itself. I am removed from the palace, but I have not abdicated my responsibilities.”Only after he said that did he realize that he...was justifying himself to Aaliyah Ibrahim, who had already walked away from him twice. As if he was not the Sh

He turned then and strode back across the courtyard without as much as a glance over his shoulder to see if she might follow.And Aaliyah had the same internal battle all over again. She could turn on her heel now that he’d walked off. She could run back out that door and then charge down the side of the mountain. She assumed that Hannah still waited there, but whether she did or didn’t, there was no way to know how she might react to anything Aaliyah might do. She might not allow Aaliyah back in the vehicle. She might order her to turn around and head right back up to the Hermitage until she’d accomplished whatever it was the older woman imagined Aaliyah could accomplish here.There was no safe space. Not here on this island, plunked down in the middle of an uncaring ocean. Maybe not anywhere. The only safe space Aaliyah had known since she’d run out of that house in Cambridge was back in Tahoe, there in the little house tucked away in the woods that she shared with her aunt and her

“I live in a tiny town near Lake Tahoe,” she told him, keeping her tone even. Calm. “If you don’t know it, Lake Tahoe is a very large and beautiful lake on the border between California and Nevada in the Sierra Nevadas, notable for its ski resorts, its rustic charm, and its stunning scenery. There are quite a lot of tourists and resorts on the lake, in all seasons. I actually live a bit further out, in the hills.”Where life was much more affordable. Most of her neighbors worked on the lake the way she did but, like her, preferred a little space between themselves and the relentless influx of visitors requiring service.Omar Farouq did not question her further on the demographics of Lake Tahoe. He turned back to face her and seemed to be content to do nothing but study her while the silence grew. A muscle clenched and unclenched in his jaw, as if somewhere beneath the surface, that temper she could still scent in the air between them was getting the best of him.Aaliyah couldn’t imagi

But it wasn’t until she saw him wave that languid hand of his that she understood what he was doing. He was reverting back to type. Becoming that easy playboy of a prince she’d met long ago.The Prince his people expected, perhaps.She watched, strange suspicions gripping her, as he was welcomed home in a series of deep curtsies and informal bows. A rippling wave of them as he walked from the helicopter across the grand forecourt, and not the way he’d moved around the Hermitage last night.This version of Omar Farouq...sauntered. Aaliyah followed at a distance, aware that it was likely no coincidence that she was quickly flanked by a selection of royal guards as she moved, but she didn’t mind that. Maybe she should have, but she was too busy watching Omar Farouq as he put on his show.By the time they made it inside, she understood that he was striking a note somewhere between that grim, gruff man from the Hermitage and the lazy, pleasure-seeking wastrel he’d been when she’d so foolis