to jump as she considered what to say. How to explain…
Khaled touched her hand. ‘Lucy, what is it?’
That was an opening if ever there was one. Lucy smiled with bright determination. ‘Khaled, we need to talk. We need to make some kind of plan for Sam’s future. One that is sustainable for both of us, and of course for him.’ She took a breath. ‘I think we should see a solicitor.’
Khaled leaned back in his seat, his eyes darkening to a deep bronze. ‘A formal custody arrangement?’
‘Yes.’
‘I see.’
Lucy knew he was at his most dangerous when his voice turned mild, but she pressed on anyway. ‘It makes sense. I think a formal arrangement will give us all a sense of stability—peace, even.’
‘Do you?’ Khaled turned back to his papers, seemingly done with their conversation.
Frustration bubbled inside her. ‘Yes, I do, Khaled. I’ve been flexible now, in the beginning, so you have a chance to get to know Sam. But we can’t go on spending a few weeks in Biryal, a few weeks in London. I have a job, and next year Sam will start school. It makes sense,’ she ploughed on, even though Khaled had not looked up from his damn papers, ‘to have a plan. Perhaps he could spend a portion of his school holidays in Biryal.’
Khaled sighed and finally looked up. ‘Indeed, a plan makes sense. But do you intend to speak to a solicitor on Biryal, Lucy? Because I don’t think you’d be pleased with the outcome.’
Lucy stiffened. ‘Is that a threat?’
‘No, of course not. Just a statement of fact.’ He paused, his head tilted thoughtfully to one side, his eyes intent on hers yet suddenly filled with a dangerous languor. ‘The last week has been pleasant, has it not?’
‘Yes,’ Lucy admitted reluctantly. ‘But that sort of arrangement can hardly continue.’
‘Can’t it?’ Khaled turned back to his papers, brisk and dismissive once more. ‘There is no point discussing this now. We can’t even think of a solicitor until we return to London.’
Lucy didn’t miss the ‘we’. Would Khaled be following them like a shadow? ‘When will that be?’
Khaled shrugged. ‘You took a fortnight’s leave of absence. We can think about returning then.’
Think about it? Lucy wanted hard facts, clear answers, yet she knew there was no point pushing for them now. Push Khaled, and he would just become more intractable, more imperious. It was better, Lucy decided, to spend a few days in Biryal, act amenable and then insist on a firm return date.
What other choice did she really have?
With a sigh she went back to her own seat and closed her eyes, determined to catch some sleep while Sam was still napping and to forget the worries and uncertainties that had dogged her since Khaled had come back into her life.
Khaled watched Lucy settle into an uneasy sleep. His own body and mind were too restless even to think of sleeping, and his knee ached abominably.
He gazed out of the window at the fathomless night sky, and recalled the terse conversation with his father just a week ago.
‘The reporters are circling, Khaled. They scent carrion. You cannot allow these rumours to continue.’
‘They will die down.’
‘That is not good enough!’ King Ahmed’s voice had been savage. ‘I did not wait two decades to win my kingdom only to hand it to a son who will tarnish the honour of our heritage and our land with rumours and half-truths too tawdry to be believed.’
‘My son,’ Khaled had replied through gritted teeth, ‘is not tawdry.’
Ahmed had ignored this, as he’d ignored every reasoned argument Khaled had ever made. If it did not suit him to hear, he did not listen. ‘You know what you have to do,’ he’d told Khaled, ‘To make this right. One way or the other… Take her or leave her, but it must be resolved.’
Khaled’s hand had tightened slickly around his mobile. ‘And do you have an opinion either way?’ he’d asked sardonically.
Ahmed had been silent for a long moment. ‘No, I don’t,’ he’d replied finally. ‘For, when you take the throne, I shall be dead and it will not matter to me.’
And that was the crux of his father’s sensibility, Khaled thought as he’d severed the connection—utterly self-centred, utterly dedicated to his own purpose, his own rule, without any thought of the legacy he might leave for his country or for his son.
He would not be that way with Sam, Khaled vowed. Sam would be his son in every respect; he would grow up at his side, learning the ways of the kingdom, his own sacred place. He would be respected, valued, loved.
One way or the other…it must be resolved.
Ahmed’s words echoed in Khaled’s mind, forcefully reminding him that he had a duty, a duty as both prince and father. Now, on the plane, he found himself considering it with both desperate hope and dread. Would Lucy despise him? Pity him?
Or could she possibly come to love him—him the man he was now?
Twelve hours later the plane taxied to a halt in front of Biryal’s airport. Glancing outside at the hard, bright sky, Lucy was amazed that it had only been a little over a week since she’d last been here. It felt like an age, a lifetime.
She scanned the tarmac, surprised and more than a little discomfited to see a crowd of people. Was this the royal welcome?
‘Who are all those people?’ she asked Khaled, who glanced out of the window, his expression turning ominously dark.
‘Journalists, by the look of it.’
‘Journalists?’ Lucy repeated incredulously. ‘Does Biryal have so many?’
He smiled faintly, although his eyes were still hard. ‘Indeed not. There is only one newspaper here. Besides, the Birayli journalists wouldn’t dare to inconvenience the royal family by showing up at an airport like this.’ He frowned. ‘Undoubtedly they are from other countries. I think I see a French photographer I recognise there.’
‘French…?’ Lucy peered out of the window again and saw from the television cameras and microphones that Khaled was indeed correct; it was a mini–United Nations out there.
Lucy was used to the press, having spent her working life among professional sports teams, but it had never been so relentlessly focussed on her. Now she found her mouth turning dry and her heart rate going up a notch or two.
‘Why are they here?’
‘Someone tipped them off,’ Khaled replied. ‘Leaks to the press are almost always unavoidable.’
‘But why are they so interested?’ Lucy pressed, and Khaled glanced at her, his second’s hesitation making Lucy wonder. Suspect.
‘Because I am the prince of this country, Lucy, and Sam
