‘Sic her, boys’?” he murmured quietly, so that only Eden could hear. “Or maybe you would just rather sit down once more, and enjoy your Shamboorek.”
As Eden stood, and steamed, Ben waved the servants out of the room, wondering just how far Nadim had told them to go, how close Nadim had ordered them to stay.
With that thought in his mind, he excused himself from Eden and followed after the servants, shooing them along in front of him until they stood in front of the door to the kitchen. “You insult me, believing your sheikh could be overpowered by one small female,” he said sternly, then smiled. “Go eat your dinner, all right?”
He stopped to discard the kaffiyeh and aba on a chair in the hallway, smoothed his hair, and reentered the living room of the suite, saying, “I have convinced my attendants that you are not hiding a Glock under your jacket or a bomb in your purse. Although I would suggest you not raise your voice again, not if you want my servants to partake of their evening meal in peace.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Eden snapped, picking up an eggroll and taking a whopping great bite out of it. She spoke around a mouthful of pastry and meat. “I see you lost the robe and…and headdress. When are you going to bring out the crown jewels, or the scepter, or whatever else in hell you think would impress me with how terrific you are?”
“I was trying to impress you, I admit it,” Ben said honestly. “But, as I could see it did not work, I decided to make myself more comfortable.”
“Well, bully for you. I’m not comfortable! Ben Ramsey, garden variety lawyer on vacation. Ha! I can’t believe I fell for that—although no one could blame me for not knowing you were really Sheikh Barakah Karif Ramir, now could they? I mean, how many sheikhs can ten thousand vacationing college girls hope to meet? What are the odds? But now, since we seem to be firmly on the subject I really didn’t want to talk about, let me take a wild guess as to why you left. You have a wife, don’t you, Ben? Or maybe six of them?”
“I have been married since last I saw you, Eden, and widowed three years ago. We had no children. But do not believe all you hear about sheikhs and harems, if you please. It makes for titillating press, but is far from the truth.”
“Widowed?” Eden bowed her head for a moment, then looked at him levelly. “I’m sorry, Ben, I didn’t know. It’s a good thing I don’t have any more eggroll in my mouth. It leaves more room for my foot.”
“An apology, Eden? I accept it with pleasure.” He sat once more, deftly picked up a grape leaf and popped it into his mouth. “So, are we being sociable now?”
“Sociable, Ben? I don’t know about that. But I suppose we could be civil, at the very least.” She sat back against the couch cushions, smiled at him. “So, how have you been? Is it difficult? Being a sheikh, that is. I should imagine it could be rather suffocating, if this evening’s events are any indication.”
“I manage,” he told her, “although I have never again been able to sneak away to Paris, as I did before my father died.”
“Died? Was that why you deserted…uh…why you left Paris so abruptly? Your father died?”
“He became quite ill, and never fully recovered until his death some six months later. That much is true. But I did not desert you, Eden. I wrote, had letters hand-delivered to your hotel. Those letters you told me today you had never received.”
“And I didn’t!” Eden declared, then winced, lowered her voice. “Sorry. I wouldn’t want to see the cavalry showing up again.”
“I wrote three letters, Eden,” he continued as she wiped at her fingers, avoided his eyes. “Three. Each one explaining who I was, why I had to leave. Three letters personally placed in my chief advisor’s hand and then couriered to Paris by one of his staff. And I saw your answer when I could at last return to Paris myself. How did it go? Oh, yes. Some nonsense about it being ‘better’ this way. Was it better that way, Eden? Better that you should leave, turn your back on what we had?”
Eden continued to stare at him, her blue eyes as honest as they were beautiful. “I never saw any letters from you, Ben. I already told you that. And you believe me, don’t you? You might not have believed me this morning, but you believe me now. What did you do, Ben, turn your trusted advisor over to the thumbscrews?”
“I am considering having him smeared with honey, staked out on the desert, and nibbled to death by toothless camels, even though I am sure he believes he was acting in the best interests of Kharmistan,” Ben said fatalistically, accepting what was impossible to change, as his father had taught him. Then he smiled, sadly. “All these years, Eden. Lost to both of us.”
Eden sighed, shook her head. “Not to you, Ben. You became a sheikh, a great prince. You married. I doubt you gave me a thought until you saw my name as you looked over the oil and gas deal. Just as I put my memories of you in my past and got on with my life.”
“Dinner is now to be served, if it is your pleasure, Your Highness,” Haskim said as he entered the room.
Ben continued to stare at Eden for another long moment, watching a flush kiss her cheeks as she so obviously lied to him. “Thank you, Haskim. Will you please be so kind as to seat Miss Fortune in the dining room? I will join her shortly.”
“Ben—I mean, Your Highness?” Eden said, her voice clouded by concern. “You—you aren’t going to fire the man or anything like that? Anything worse than that? I mean, you have absolute power, don’t you? I’m sure I read that somewhere in my notes.”
Ben stood as Eden did, motioned for her to follow Haskim into the dining room. “You overreact, Eden. I have a call coming from Kharmistan precisely at seven, and it is nearing that hour now. When I have completed my conversation with my minister of water and power, I shall join you. All right?”
“But I can see how angry you are, Ben. Like that day I was nearly run down by a horse-drawn carriage as we walked through Paris. Your eyes are all dark, the way they were then, and I can see a vein pulsing at the side of your throat. Please, don’t do anything rash. What’s done is done, and I’m sure your advisor had very good reasons for disobeying you. You said that, didn’t you? That he must have had the best interests of Kharmistan in mind?”
“You are much more forgiving than I am, Eden,” Ben said, pushing his temper back under his usual tight control, trying once more to remember his father’s words. He had suspected so earlier, but it was only Eden’s honesty tonight that finally convinced him that Nadim had disobeyed his direct orders. “There will be a punishment, I assure you, but I will listen first, then act. And I must act, Eden, as any show of weakness in one’s sheikh is reason to believe in one’s own ambitions. Nadim would expect no less from me. Is that all right with you?”
Eden licked at her lips, eyed him nervously. “I— I suppose so, Ben. And you’ll join me shortly? After your phone call?”
Another servant entered the room, carrying a portable phone on a lace doily placed in the center of a silver tray. Ben picked up the phone, nodded to Eden, then turned his back to her, speaking a fast and fluent Arabic into the phone.
Three
My son cannot live in Ben’s world. Eden’s head hurt as the message repeated itself in her brain. Her stomach had turned to stone, her appetite gone. All she could do was sit in the dining room chair, her hands folded tightly in her lap, while her mind began to scream, Run away, run away, run away.
She
