His Majesty's Mistake. Jane Porter

They were just a few kilometers from Kasbah Raha now, and he was impatient to reach the palace.

      He spent several months each year at Raha, and they were usually his favorite months.

      Every day in Raha he’d wake, exercise, shower, have a light meal and then go to his office to work. He’d break for a late lunch and then work again, often late into the night. He enjoyed everything about his work and stayed at his desk because that’s where he wanted to be.

      He wasn’t all work though. He had a mistress in Nadir whom he saw several times a week when there. Hannah knew about Madeline, of course, but it wasn’t something he’d ever discuss with her. Just as Hannah had never discussed her love life with him.

      Makin’s cell phone suddenly rang, sounding too loud in the quiet desert. Withdrawing the phone from his trouser pocket, he saw it was his chief of security from the palace in Nadir.

      Makin answered in Arabic.

      As he listened, he went cold, thinking the timing couldn’t be worse. Hannah was already struggling. This would devastate her.

      Makin asked his chief of security to keep him informed and then hung up. As he pocketed his phone, Hannah appeared, her graceful hands smoothing her creased turquoise cocktail dress. As she walked toward him, she gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry about that.”

      He didn’t smile back. “You’re still sick.”

      “Low blood sugar. Haven’t eaten yet today.”

      Nor had anything to drink, he realized, remembering now that she’d no coffee, tea or juice on the flight, either.

      Makin spoke to his driver in Arabic, and the chauffeur immediately went to the back of the gleaming car, opened the trunk, and withdrew two bottles of water. He gave both to the sheikh and Makin unscrewed the cap of one, and handed the open bottle to Hannah.

      “It’s cold,” she said surprised, even as she took a long drink from the plastic bottle.

      “I have a small refrigerator built into the trunk. Keeps things cool on long trips.”

      “That’s smart. It’s really hot here.” She lifted the bottle to her lips, drank again, her hand trembling slightly.

      Makin didn’t miss the tremble of her hand. Or the purple shadows beneath her eyes. She was exhausted. She needed to eat. Rest. Recover.

      She didn’t need more bad news.

      She didn’t need another stress.

      He couldn’t keep the news from her, nor would he, but he didn’t have to tell her now. There was nothing she could do. Nothing any of them could do.

      He’d wait until they reached the palace to tell her about the call. Wait until she’d had a chance to shower and change and get something into her stomach because right now she looked on the verge of collapse.

      “Shall we?” he asked, gesturing to the car.