The Royal House of Karedes: Two Crowns: The Sheikh's Forbidden Virgin / The Greek Billionaire's Innocent Princess / The Future King's Love-Child. Кейт Хьюит
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didn’t realise how hard and fast her heart was beating until her nurse left the room. She moved to the window, her hands pressed to her flushed cheeks, and tried to still her racing heart.
If Juhanah discovered what had happened, she trusted her nurse not to say anything, yet she didn’t think she could bear her disappointment. And yet what did it matter if Juhanah found out? If anyone found out?
The only person who couldn’t find out was Zakari, and Aarif was determined to tell him. And what would happen then? Any chance of happiness—she’d given up on love—would be destroyed. Zakari would hate her, and even if he forgave her their relationship would always be tainted with betrayal, her betrayal—
She would live under a shadow, a stain that could never be cleaned away. The thought was crippling, devastating.
She couldn’t let that happen. Not for her sake, for Zakari’s sake, for the sake of the country. Not for Aarif’s sake.
Taking a deep breath, Kalila felt her determination harden into resolve. Tonight she would find Aarif again, and make him understand.
After another quiet meal in her bedroom with Juhanah, Kalila dismissed her nurse, insisting that once again she was tired and wished only to sleep. Juhanah, however, was less likely to believe this tale, and left with only the greatest reluctance and eyes narrowed in suspicion.
Kalila waited a full hour before she slipped from her room; by that time the dark, quiet corridors were lit only by moonlight and she could hear Juhanah’s snores through the door of her bedroom.
It took her a while to find her way through the winding corridors of the palace, and when she did finally stumble upon the library it was dark and empty. Disappointment echoed through her as she surveyed the silent room. She’d been counting on Aarif being there.
Waiting for her? a sly inner voice mocked, and Kalila pushed it away resolutely.
She turned away, at a loss. The night stretched emptily, endlessly in front of her.
‘Princess?’ A disembodied voice floated through the darkness, and Kalila stiffened. The lights flickered on, bringing a mundane yet welcome reality to the situation, and a servant bowed before asking, ‘May I help you, Princess?’
‘I…’ She licked her lips, her cheeks flushing. She felt as if she’d been caught sneaking around after bedtime, and yet in little more than a week she would be mistress of this place. The realisation made her straighten and look at the man with dignity. ‘I was looking for the gardens,’ she said. ‘I would like some fresh air.’
The servant’s face was professionally blank as he inclined his head. ‘It is dark out, Princess.’
‘I think I can manage,’ Kalila returned a bit tartly, and, nodding again, the servant led her down another tangle of corridors to a heavy wooden door that clearly led outside.
‘I’ll wait for you here,’ he said, and Kalila replied a bit sharply.
‘Thank you, but that’s not necessary. I’m quite sure I can find my way back.’ In fact she wasn’t, but she didn’t want a guardian.
Once out in the cool darkness of the garden she wandered down a twisting path lined with palm trees, the cloying scent of jasmine heavy on the air. What to do now? Where to go? She felt as lonely and lost as a little girl, and wished she didn’t. Suppressing a sigh that would just tumble her straight into self-pity, Kalila wandered for a few moments until the surprising sound of splashing pulled her curiously in the direction of the noise.
She came round another corner, half expecting to see a pool or fountain, and instead came face to face with Aarif.
He wore only a towel around his hips, his chest bare and brown and beaded with droplets of water. Kalila stared. She’d never seen his chest, only felt it against her own skin, and now she was transfixed by the sight of the lean, hard muscle.
Aarif muttered an oath under his breath when he saw her, and whirled around, jerking the shirt he’d held in his hand over his head. Yet still in that brief moment Kalila saw his back, watched as the moonlight bathed the scars there that she’d felt with her fingertips. They were old scars, long, jagged lines, and instinctively she knew what they were.
Aarif had been whipped.
She opened her mouth to say something, ask—what?—but Aarif had already turned around, and was buttoning up his shirt with stiff fingers. ‘What are you doing out here, Princess?’ he asked tightly.
‘What were you doing?’ Kalila challenged. ‘Is there a pool out here?’
Aarif raised one eyebrow in surprising, sardonic amusement. ‘There must be, unless I jumped in a fountain.’
Kalila smiled at the mental image. ‘Can you show me it?’
‘Do you want to go swimming at this hour?’
She shrugged, not willing to admit she just wanted to be with him. ‘Why not? You did.’
‘You’re not wearing a swimming costume.’
She smiled, the gesture innately coy. ‘Do I need one?’
Aarif’s expression froze, and Kalila wished she hadn’t been so provocative. Then he swivelled on his heel and she followed him down the shadowy path.
They came out into an open courtyard, and in the darkness the pool was no more than a glint of moonlight on the water, the sound of the water lapping against the sides. Kalila regarded it for a moment, feeling slightly silly. She was not about to go swimming.
‘Do you like to go swimming?’ she asked, and her voice sounded false and bright.
‘I have made myself like it,’ Aarif replied, which was a strange enough answer to make Kalila curious and want to know more.
‘Made yourself? You didn’t before?’
‘I nearly drowned as a young man. It left an impression.’
Kalila could just imagine how resolutely Aarif would conquer his fears, forcing himself to swim even when it was the last thing he wanted.
‘It looks like a lovely pool,’ she said lamely, and in the moonlight she could see Aarif’s hard expression. All the things she’d been wanting to say—confront him with—died too, withered under that expression.
‘Have you heard from Zakari?’ she finally asked in a small voice.
Aarif’s tiny hesitation told her all she needed to know. ‘No,’ he admitted, ‘but he is likely to be in contact soon.’
‘How thoughtful of him,’ Kalila snapped.
Aarif shrugged. ‘Considering the circumstances, I would’ve thought you’d be grateful for a reprieve.’
A reprieve. It sounded so grim, so grisly. ‘Perhaps,’ Kalila allowed, ‘but I don’t like feeling completely unimportant, either. I feel like I’ve been discarded—’ she took a breath, daring, needing ‘twice—’
Aarif stilled. ‘There was nothing between us, Kalila,’ he said quietly. ‘Do not make it so simply because you are unhappy and alone.’
The truth of his words stung, and yet she also knew it was more than that, deeper than that. ‘Do you feel anything for me, Aarif?’ she asked, grateful for the darkness that hid her burning cheeks. She hated having to be so open, so vulnerable, knowing it would only lead to a rejection painful in its bluntness. Still, she had to ask. She needed to know. ‘Did you feel anything for me that night?’ she whispered.
Aarif was silent, and in the moonlight Kalila could barely see his face, yet she knew even in the blazing daylight no emotion would be revealed there. He had closed himself off from her already. He was good at that. ‘Even if I were in love with you,’ Aarif said slowly, heavily, ‘it would not matter. Your duty is to my brother, and so is mine.’
‘It would matter,’