stretched over the line. “Kadar?” Hannah repeated wonderingly. “Why?”
Emmeline’s shoulders rose, hunching. “Sheikh Al-Koury thinks I’m you.”
Hannah exhaled hard. “Tell him you’re not! Tell him the truth.”
“I can’t.” Emmeline felt dangerously close to just losing it. It’d been such a difficult few weeks and she’d been so sure that she could turn things around, make it all right. But instead of things improving, they’d taken a dramatic turn for the worse. “I can’t. Not before Sheikh Al-Koury’s conference. It’d ruin everything.”
“But everything’s already ruined,” Hannah cried, her voice rising and then breaking. “You have no idea what’s happened—”
“I’m sorry, Hannah, I really am. But everything’s out of my control.”
“Your control. Your life. It’s always about you, isn’t it?”
“I didn’t mean it that way—”
“But you did mean to send me here in your place and you didn’t intend to come right away. You used me. Manipulated me. But how do you think I feel being trapped here, pretending to—” Hannah broke off abruptly.
The line went dead.
Hannah had hung up.
Emmeline stared at the phone, stunned. But what did she expect? She had done an amazing job of messing up Hannah’s life.
Makin had met briefly with his staff after leaving Hannah’s room and spent fifteen minutes in his office listening to updates from his various department managers before dismissing them all with a wave of his hand.
He couldn’t focus on the updates. His thoughts were elsewhere, back with Hannah in her room.
Telling Hannah about Alejandro’s accident had been far harder than he’d imagined. He hadn’t liked giving her bad news. It didn’t feel right. He’d never felt protective of her before, but he did now.
Maybe it was because she wasn’t well.
Maybe it was knowing she’d had her heart broken.
Maybe it’s because he was suddenly aware of her in a way he hadn’t been before.
Aware of her as a woman. Aware that she was very much a woman. A highly desirable woman. And that was a problem.
Mouth compressing, he rose from behind his desk, left his office and set off to meet the Kasbah’s director of security, who had promised to give him a tour of the guest wings and go over the security measures in place for the safety of their guests.
The tour was interrupted by a phone call with information that Alejandro was out of surgery and in recovery. He hadn’t woken yet, and while the prognosis was still grim, he’d at least survived the nine-hour operation. For Hannah’s sake, he was glad.
Call concluded, he and the security director passed through a high, arched doorway and stepped outside. “Which families will be in that building?” he asked, struggling to get his attention back on his life, his work, his conference. He wasn’t a man who was easily distracted, but he seemed unable to focus on anything other than Hannah right now.
“The Nuris of Baraka, Your Highness. Sultan Malek Nuri and his brother Sheikh Kalen Nuri, along with their wives. Sheikh Tair of Ohua.”
“And in the building to my right?”
“Our Western dignitaries.”
Makin nodded. “Good.” He was relieved to see that not only was security prepared, but the Kasbah looked immaculate.
While all of Makin’s various homes and palaces were beautiful, Kasbah Raha always took his breath away. The Kasbah itself was hundreds of years old, and lovingly preserved by generations of the Al-Koury family, the colors mirroring the desert—the pink of sunrise, the majestic red mountains, the blue of the sky, and the ivory-and-gold sand.
It was remote. And it was the place he worked best. Which is why he’d never brought Madeline to Raha. Raha was for clarity of thought and personal reflection. not desire or lust. He’d never wanted to associate a carnal pleasure such as sex with Raha, either, but suddenly, with Hannah under his roof, he was thinking about very carnal things instead of focusing on the conference.
Hannah.
Just saying her name made his insides tighten.
And that twinge of tension was enough for him to come to a decision.
This wasn’t going to work with her here. He realized they’d only just arrived, but she had to go. The timing was terrible, but there was too much at risk to allow himself to be mired in indecision.
STILL flattened from her call to Hannah, Emmeline showered and wrapped herself in her robe that had been unpacked and hung in the closet next to Hannah’s wardrobe.
Curious, Emmeline sorted through Hannah’s clothes. Hannah’s wardrobe wasn’t exactly dowdy, but it was practical. Hannah dressed conservatively in keeping with her job.
Stretching out on the bed, Emmeline felt a sudden rush of affection for her lookalike, thinking Hannah was the kind of friend you’d want in your corner. And she’d been in Emmeline’s corner, too.
Emmeline didn’t remember drifting off to sleep, but hours later the doorbell woke her.
Sitting up, she saw the sun had shifted across the sky and now sat low, hinting at twilight. Pale violet shadows crept across the bedroom and hovered in corners. She headed for the door. One of the palace’s kitchen staff stood outside with a gleaming silver trolley.
“Good evening, Miss Smith,” the palace staffer greeted her. “His Highness thought you’d want to dine tonight in the privacy of your own room.”
A thoughtful gesture on the sheikh’s part, she thought, opening the door wider. The man pushed the trolley through the living room out onto the flagstone patio. Emmeline watched as he arranged the tables and chairs closer to the pool and covered the small round table with a cloth from the cart, then dishes, silverware, goblets, candles and a low floral arrangement.
Then with a brief respectful nod to Emmeline, he left, taking the now-empty cart with him. Once he was gone, Emmeline stepped out onto the patio. The table had been set for two. Two plates, two sets of silverware, two water and two wine goblets.
She wasn’t dining alone tonight.
And just like that, Emmeline’s sense of well-being fled.
The moment Hannah opened the door that evening, Makin knew he’d made a mistake. He should have called her to his office to tell her he was sending her away, summoning her as one would summon an employee, instead of breaking the news over dinner.
He’d thought that talking in private would lessen the blow. But he was wrong. Wrong to speak to her at dinner, in her room.
Worse, she’d dressed for dinner tonight, and she’d never dressed for dinner before.
Why had she put on a frothy cocktail dress? And why those gold high heels that made her legs look silky smooth and endless?
Makin followed her slowly through her gold living room to the garden knowing he was compounding matters, adding insult to injury by staying. One didn’t give employees bad news like this. He should go and wait until the morning. Go and wait until he felt calmer, more settled.
But he didn’t leave. He couldn’t, not when he felt an irresistible pull to stay. Instead of going, he trailed after her through the large sliding glass doors to the garden where a table had been set for two.
Makin’s gaze rested on the table and his unease grew.
She’d dressed to match the table