in Kadar now, surrounded by his beloved desert and his important work. She felt an ache in her chest, near her heart.
Emmeline knocked firmly on the library door and waited for King William to permit her to enter. When he did, she found him seated at his enormous desk searching for an item in the center drawer.
“I had no idea,” he said, frowning into his open drawer as she crossed the room to stand before his desk. “I wish you had spoken up.”
She folded her hands in front of her, her own brow furrowing; she wasn’t at all sure what he was referring to but she knew better than to interrupt.
“It would have helped if you’d explained, might have made the scene in the salon less uncomfortable.” He looked up at her now, blue gaze reproving. “It was damn uncomfortable. Especially with Al-Koury there.”
She sucked in a breath, hating the butterflies she got every time Makin’s name was mentioned. “Yes, Father.”
“But at the same time, I understand why you didn’t say anything. I understand that Al-Koury wanted to speak to me first, and I appreciate the courtesy. I’m glad he’s a gentleman and wanted to ask for your hand properly—”
“What?”
“Although to be quite honest,” he continued, “Al-Koury should have come on his own, asked for your hand, before traveling with you. It is irregular, what with you being engaged to Zale Patek. A bit presumptuous. Put me in the hot seat, especially with your mother. But you’re both human. Things happen.”
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