CHAPTER FOURTEEN

      MIKAEL DID NOT SLEEP.

      All night he heard the buzzing of a helicopter and wondered if it was for them—or more likely an air search that had nothing to do with Layla.

      As she started to stir he kissed her head and smelt her hair. It smelt of the ocean and their time had run out.

      She woke but did not open her eyes, because she didn’t want it to be today.

      ‘Layla?’ He turned. ‘I know you’re awake.’ He watched her smile with her eyes closed and he smiled at her too. ‘Do you want breakfast?’

      ‘No, I feel too sick to eat.’

      Her eyes were still closed and he saw just the tiniest glimmer of moisture at the edge of them. He did not want to make this harder for her, even if it was almost killing him.

      ‘Thank you for giving me a lovely last night,’ she said.

      ‘It was my pleasure.’

      She opened her eyes and knew she wanted to open her eyes to him every morning; it felt as if this was the way the world should be for ever, with Mikael on the pillow beside her.

      His eyes roamed her face and he took her hand. He had never wanted love and yet here it was now—and he was about to lose it.

      ‘Marry me?’

      She heard the words and they made her chest hurt. They made her eyes sting and they made her heart soar—and yet it plummeted in the next instant at the absolute impossibility of any future for them, so she answered him in the way that must serve them best.

      She laughed.

      ‘Layla…’ He would not be swayed. ‘I will sort it with your family. I will speak with your brother…’

      ‘Mikael, you would be bored without your cases.’

      ‘I mean marry me and live here,’ he said, and she sat up and hugged her knees to her chest.

      ‘Mikael, I live in a palace. As beautiful as your home is, do you really think I would want to give up my life?’

      He said nothing.

      ‘Will you give up your life and live in Ishla?’

      He took a breath. ‘If you let me speak with your family we can work out exactly what we want.’

      ‘You really think my father would entertain the idea?’ Again Layla laughed. ‘Of course not. And so it is time for me to return to my family. I told you that if you gave me one more night then I would return happy. Now I keep that promise to you.’

      Mikael sat as she headed to the bathroom. There was no request for assistance this time; in fact she closed the door.

      Layla stared at her reflection for a very long time, telling herself over and over that she could do this. Reminding herself that she was going back to a family whom she loved very much.

      Except on the other side of the door was a man she loved in a different way; he was there in her heart, and she felt right now as if that heart was breaking.

      She pulled on her silver dress and slippers and felt as if she was dressing for her own execution.

       Mikael!

      She wanted to scream his name, to plead for him to sort this, to go to bed now and wake up in a year in his arms to find out that it was all somehow over.

      Instead she pushed open the bathroom door.

      ‘Can you take me back to my family now?’ she said. ‘I want my father to know that I am okay.’

      Even the ocean was against them, for they slid through the water with rapid ease. Mikael wondered if there might be police waiting at his car—if their goodbye would take place right here—but as he approached, there his car was, as he had left it.

      Layla looked at the silver car that had caught her eye before she had even met him, and as they approached Mikael examined the huge scrape down its side and tried to tell himself his more ordered life could return soon.

      ‘I loved driving,’ she said as he opened the door and she slipped into the passenger seat. ‘I have done all the things on my list and more.’

      She put on her own seatbelt, albeit a bit clumsily, but if he neared her she would bury herself in his arms and plead for him to keep her for ever.

      Wendy called on Mikael’s private number to say that the police had been in touch and had asked that he call them.

      ‘Thank you.’

      He did not relay the news to Layla, and neither did she ask what the call was about; instead they drove in near silence, but as the city approached she turned the radio on.

      ‘Don’t.’

      Mikael went to turn it off but she stopped him.

      ‘Let me hear.’

      She was the headlines.

      He heard her snort as the newsreader said that Princess Layla of Ishla suffered from seizures and might need urgent medical attention, but her mirth turned to a strangled sob as an interview with her father was played.

      Even before the translation Mikael could hear grief and bewilderment in the old King’s voice.

      The translation even procured a sniff from Mikael—for, as cynical as he was, and as much as he wanted to be angry with the man, he could hear the love.

      ‘I love my daughter; she is my most precious possession. Please, Layla, come back to your family. Please, whoever is hiding her, make sure she is safe. There is nothing for me if there is no Layla.’

      Then there was a statement that said if there was no news by morning the King would travel to Australia to help in the search for his daughter.

      It would be morning in Ishla in a few short hours, and at the sound of her father’s promise Layla issued her instructions.

      ‘Drop me near the hotel that Trinity and Zahid are staying at.’

      ‘I’m not just dropping you off,’ Mikael balked. ‘I will come and speak with your brother.’

      ‘No!’ she shouted. ‘No, you will not!’

      ‘You really think I’m just going to let you out of the car and drive away…?’

      ‘If you care about me that is exactly what you will do.’

      It wasn’t supposed to end like this, Layla thought, resting her head on the window. It was supposed to end happily; she was supposed to leave smiling.

      She wanted to cry, wanted Mikael to turn the car around and drive her to his home, but she must never let him see that.

      ‘Here!’ she said as they passed the café where she and Mikael had once shared breakfast. She knew the way to their hotel from there. ‘Drop me here.’

      ‘I