move back here, Lysander. If they knew how well that dinner went, and the hours of routine office work you put in, I’m sure they’d be amazed,’ she said quietly.
‘The Western press perhaps, but not the press here in Rosara. They’ve always understood that I left to avoid being sidelined, and I came back because of loyalty. I love this country, and I won’t let anything disturb its peace. That’s why I want to take such great care of Ra’id. Some of my countrymen don’t believe he should be the next king.’
Alyssa was shocked. ‘Lysander! When we were driving from the airport, you told me there was no danger to him here!’
Her first instinct was to call Ra’id straight back into her arms and head for the palace and safety. Lysander stopped her with a few simple words.
‘Would it reassure you to know that I’m the one they want as their ruler? That there’s a faction who think I should be King, rather than him?’
She stared at him. ‘I don’t know. It depends what would happen to Ra’id.’
‘He’s quite safe with me. You’ve got my word on that.’ Lysander’s accent thickened with honesty. ‘He would stay in your care and be my heir until I had a son of my own. That’s why I wanted the best nanny for him from the first. Whatever happens, I will always treat Ra’id with the respect due to my brother’s son. Looking after him is my priority.’
‘And mine,’ Alyssa said firmly.
They had both been watching the little boy as he chased lizards over the hot desert rocks. When she said that, they turned and shared a look.
‘Smiling suits you, Lysander.’ Alyssa laughed. ‘You should do it more often.’
His reply was quick. ‘You won’t believe this, but I was about to say exactly the same thing to you!’
The palace staff had packed an amazing picnic. There was a feast of things Alyssa usually kept off Ra’id’s menu, such as crisps and cake, along with healthy slices of perfectly ripe melons, peaches and bunches of fat grapes. While Alyssa set it all out, Lysander produced a pair of miniature radio-controlled buggies from the back of the four-by-four. That was when Ra’id lost interest in the food—and it was the last she saw of the two men in her life until they got hungry.
It was a long time before Alyssa had a minute to herself. Once she’d put the exhausted Ra’id to bed that night and handed over to her deputy, she could officially call herself off duty for the next thirty-six hours. With a relief she didn’t usually feel when faced with a holiday, she retreated to her own suite. Her apartment at the Rose Palace was lovely. It was at least twice the size of her city flat in England, and had large, airy rooms. It was a pleasure to wander around it by the light of scented candles, enjoying all the luxury. Flickering shadows danced over pale painted walls and high ceilings, while the fragrance of lilies drifted in from the courtyard garden below her open windows. Although tired, Alyssa was far too wound up for sleep. Her mind was crowded. She roamed around hoping it would clear, but all she could think about was Lysander. The bed reminded her of his cabin on the plane, where she had imagined his kiss. Her kitchen was stocked with everything to make her feel at home, but that only brought back the way Lysander had helped her to coffee and snacks at their picnic. And every time she felt her pulse speed up, she thought of his kisses …
That moment on the palace landing felt like a lifetime ago. She had seen a side of Lysander today that was at odds with his playboy image. She liked to think her common sense might be having some influence on him, but she couldn’t ignore the obvious reason for the change in him. He’d had no time for flirting today. Both he and Alyssa had been too busy taking care of Ra’id and laughing along with him to think of anything beyond their shared interest in the little boy.
She tried to see that as a good thing. Today could so easily be a one-off. Lysander had been taken out of his natural habitat. That might be having the same effect on him as the change in routine did with Ra’id. It gave them both more to think about than mischief. Alyssa tried to see that as a good thing, but the memory of Lysander’s eyes burning with desire for her on the night of his banquet was impossible to forget.
She wondered what the next day would bring—more respect, or more temptation? Setting her alarm, she lay down and tried to sleep. The days were long in Rosara, but she was determined to make the most of every second of freedom.
Everything was perfect, right down to the jug of filtered water in her bedside fridge, but she still couldn’t switch off. After what felt like hours, she gave up, untangled herself from the sheet and got out of bed. One long, cool, bubbly bath later, smelling of rose petal attar from the royal perfumier, she pulled on a thin cotton blouse and light, summer-weight trousers. Pouring herself a large glass of orange juice fresh from the palace citrus groves, she strolled out onto her balcony. If she couldn’t sleep, she could at least suffer insomnia in comfort. Settled on piles of silken cushions specially designed for lounging, she gazed past tendrils of wisteria draped around the balcony rail, and down into the courtyard below.
The night was warm, and heavy with the fragrance of citrus and jasmine. It was heavenly. She stretched her limbs luxuriously across the downy pillows. It felt so good, she needed only one thing to complete the picture. That was a glimpse of Lysander. She hoped their happy afternoon hadn’t been a one-off, but she was wary that it might have been designed to weaken her resistance to him. Her body was definitely drawn to his, but she couldn’t let that lead her astray. Instead, she fell back on fantasy. Lysander’s worldwide reputation as a playboy made him too hot for her to handle in real life, but dreaming was free. She sighed. The man was a twenty-four-carat rogue, and a genuine heart-breaker. You only had to look at him to see that.
She smiled at the thought of his handsome face this afternoon. She had never seen him look so relaxed and happy, especially when he was showing Ra’id how to take pictures with his smartphone. Not even in all those press photographs, where he had a new woman hanging on his arm in every shot.
It was interesting to think he might really change now he was back in Rosara … and it was safer, too. She had heard from other staff at the palace that no woman could expect to keep Lysander interested for long, but maybe that would change, too. As long as he stopped tempting her everything would be fine, although it was impossible not to wonder what it would be like to be on Lysander Kahani’s menu … Alyssa had never met any other man like him, either in looks or character. And whatever his faults, he was always a gentleman. If he wanted, Lysander could have charmed her into his bed at any time over the past few days, if he did but know it! He made her feel so special. But then, she thought, he must have honed his skill at making women feel unique on a thousand other conquests. A man like that would be an expert at playing games with hearts. Every time she felt tempted, Alyssa relived the mental torture of her breakup with Jerry all over again.
It was supposed to keep her own heart closed to Lysander, but it didn’t work. She sympathised with him, and could understand why he was so restless. He needed some form of escape within his gilded cage, she could tell—but she didn’t dare try and find out what it was.
Lysander couldn’t sleep. He tried paperwork. He went back to his office and shuffled documents, but it was no good. The palace had a complete movie theatre, but trying to watch films only made him feel worse. However hard he tried to distract himself, nothing worked. It couldn’t take his mind off the events of that afternoon.
He cursed loudly. What had Alyssa done to him? He couldn’t even be truthful with himself any more. It wasn’t the picnic that had affected him so much, but her. When it came to women, he was a professional. This afternoon he had gone out of his way to act as though their kiss had been no big deal for him. He had tried to pretend it was a mistake
