three days before. He remembered the moment with perfect clarity. For the first time since he had found out about the baby, he had been sure that Cleo was not going to bolt. In the act of confessing her love, she had freed him to relax. If she loved him, she would stay. They would always be together. Women who loved were happy. It had always been so.
“Apparently loving you is not enough,” Hassan said angrily. “She expected more, as did I.”
Sadik frowned. “What more would you expect? I have been a faithful and caring husband. She wants for nothing. I attend to her every morning, I have learned all I can about her pregnancy and the upcoming birth.”
His father slowly shook his head. “You have not learned the most important lesson. I thought you would. I knew what you went through after Kamra’s death, and I know what you vowed. But you are wrong, Sadik. You have always been wrong. Not loving someone does not keep you safe—it merely keeps you alone.”
He resumed his seat. “I will do nothing to help you. Cleo is leaving. After the birth of my grandson, we will fly to see her and the baby. Only then will we discuss what is to happen.” His father’s gaze narrowed. “My intent is not to keep you from your son. However, Cleo needs time. I forbid you to follow her.”
Sadik left without responding. His own father had turned against him. And Cleo had run from him. He took a step, then another, only to stop when he felt a sharp, angry pain in his chest. He could not breathe, could not think, he could only endure the hollow emptiness filling him.
The sensation was faintly familiar. He searched his memory and recalled that he had felt it when he had lost Kamra. But that pain had been a pinprick compared with the open wound he experienced at the loss of Cleo. It was as if he’d been ripped in two. How could there be a world without her? How could he survive? She was both sunlight and moonlight in his ever-dark sky. She had accused him of only caring about the baby, but she had been wrong. The child was an unexpected gift—she was his everything.
He forced himself to keep walking. Memories flashed through his brain, each more accusing than the last. How he had taken her affection and her love for granted. How he had never told her what she desperately needed to hear. He’d been so sure he could avoid pain by not admitting his feelings, but the words did nothing to change how he felt inside.
“Cleo.”
He breathed her name. The act of speaking it aloud gave him strength. He knew what he had to do.
He ran through the corridors of the palace. The shortest path to the garage led through the public areas, and he raced through a tour in progress. He heard the surprised tour guide identifying him to the tourists, and the whirring clicks of dozens of cameras snapping his picture.
Once in the rear of the palace, he hurried into the garage and got behind the wheel of his fastest car. There was not much time. Cleo would be leaving on the family jet, so he couldn’t count on an airline delay to keep her in Bahania.
He raced down the circular drive that led into the city. A flash in his rearview mirror caught his attention. Guards in pursuit!
He ignored them and put his foot on the gas. Fifteen minutes later he entered the highway that would take him to the airport.
Hurry. Hurry. Hurry.
The words beat inside his brain, over and over. He tapped his fingers against his steering wheel and willed his car to go faster. In the distance he heard the sirens of the guards after him, but he ignored them. Nothing mattered but finding Cleo.
After five minutes he decided he had better call ahead and see if he could delay her plane. Several frustrating minutes later, he was no closer to getting in touch with the tower than he had been before he had started. His father sought to block his attempts to bring Cleo home. He would have to—
Sadik slammed on the brakes. Tires screamed in protest, the car shimmied, then bounced as he drove it onto the shoulder. His chest squeezed so tight, he couldn’t breathe.
A black car—like the ones used by members of the royal family—lay on its side in a ditch off the highway. Several rescue vehicles crowded around the damaged automobile. It was as if time had bent and circled around itself to bring him back to a moment he had already endured. He had found Kamra in just this way.
Dead on the side of the road.
He brought his car to a stop. Had he been able to speak, he would have screamed out his protest. Indescribable agony tore through him. He wanted to demand justice. He could not live without Cleo. Didn’t anyone understand? How could she be gone?
He did not know how long he sat there. It felt like lifetimes had passed, but perhaps it was only a few minutes before a police officer knocked on the window of his car.
“Prince Sadik? Is there a problem?”
Sadik lowered his window and slowly shook his head. “The accident,” he rasped in a voice that sounded a thousand years old. “The passenger.”
The officer consulted his notebook. “Someone from one of the embassies. He was drunk, of course. Fortunately he only hurt his car and his pride.”
Sadik stared at the man, unable to absorb the words. “He? Not a woman?”
“Just one person in the vehicle, sir.”
Sadik tried to thank him, but he didn’t know what he said. All he knew was that Cleo was not dead. He still had a chance. If he was too late at the airport, he would travel the earth until he found her. He would bring her home—whatever it took to convince her.
He pulled out onto the road. The guards from the palace were much closer now. He could see their cars in his rearview mirror. The police officer jumped back as Sadik sped down the highway, sending gravel flying.
In a matter of minutes the airport was in sight. He circled the main terminals, heading for the private hangar that housed the royal fleet. Up ahead he could see one of the cars from the palace pulling to a stop in front of the small terminal. Behind, the guards gained ground. It would be close.
He floored the accelerator, racing to the terminal. Up ahead Cleo stepped out of the car, then turned toward the noise. Sadik raced as close as he dared, then slammed on the brakes, turned off the engine and sprang from the vehicle.
“Cleo, you must wait,” he yelled as he ran toward her. Behind him a dozen or so guards gave chase.
He was close enough to see the pain on her face and the confusion as she registered that he was being pursued by palace guards.
Cleo stared at the spectacle of her very proper, very princely husband flying toward her as if the hounds of hell were at his heels. Obviously, he’d figured out she was leaving and expected to stop her. She didn’t know what he wanted, but she knew she was too heartbroken to listen to any logical argument about how they had to stay together for the sake of their child.
“Cleo, please.”
She turned her back on him and headed for the terminal. If she hadn’t stopped by her doctor’s office to make sure it was all right for her to fly, she would have been gone by now. His last-minute theatrics wouldn’t have mattered.
The sound of a rifle cocking caught her attention. Cleo froze, then shifted so she could see Sadik. She nearly stumbled in amazement.
Prince
