He laughed briefly without looking at her. “He did once,” he said, so softly that Olivia had to lean forward to catch his words.
“Khaled?” She laid her hand on his arm. “What do you mean by that?”
He shrugged. “I was never meant to be the heir. My brother Djalil was three years older than me—he was bigger, stronger, smarter. He was groomed to follow in our father’s footsteps from the nursery, and he would have done it. He wouldn’t have hesitated to develop the oil wells. He would have seized the opportunity to give the people of Saqat everything they deserve.”
Olivia moved closer. “What happened?” she whispered.
Khaled slipped his arm around her waist and laid his cheek against her hair. “The Gulf War happened. He was twenty and desperate to fight. Saqat hardly had an army worth sending, but Djalil had trained at Sandhurst and he joined the British forces.”
“I’m so sorry.” Such inadequate words, but the only ones she had.
His arms tightened around Olivia, and she could feel the erratic beating of his heart against her cheek.
When he spoke again, it was as if the words were twisted from him like water from a wrung cloth. “The worst of it was that it was ‘friendly fire.’ He was shot down by our own damned allies.”
Olivia burrowed tighter, instinctively offering the most basic human comfort for the grief that he still felt for a brother cruelly taken too young.
After a pause, Khaled continued in a calmer voice. “I was in England when it happened. At school. That summer I went home for the holidays and my father told me what I already knew. One day I must be the emir.”
Olivia pulled away slightly so that she could look up at Khaled. She met his eyes. “You will be a good ruler, Khaled, I know it. You care so much for Saqat. For your people.”
He shrugged again. “I made a deal with my father. He would allow me to continue with my studies. I wanted to go to university, take my doctorate, do something really worthwhile.”
He had done all of that. She’d spent a couple of hours looking him up online and found lists of publications and conference presentations. She knew how influential Khaled’s work was and how highly his fellow academics rated him. She could only guess how much more he would achieve if he had the freedom to continue.
“What was your side of the bargain?”
“That I would spend part of every year in Saqat, and that when he needed me, I would go home.”
“But you don’t want to.”
He sighed. “It doesn’t matter what I want. It is my duty.”
“I see. That’s why this deal matters so much to you. You need to show your people that you will do your duty to them.”
“Yes.”
“We can negotiate.”
He let go of her and walked down to the edge of the water. “You know there aren’t any substantial negotiations to be done,” he said eventually, without turning to face her. “The lawyers are happy with the contract. It’s a fair deal, and MCI Oil is the right company.”
“But?”
“But this.” He gestured expansively out to sea.
She took a moment to take in the familiar view of the gray water, choppy with white foam, sparkling in the sunlight. Birds circled overhead, calling to each other with loud, rough sounds. In the distance, a fisherman’s trawler chugged slowly out into the deep waters. The North Sea didn’t have the tranquil beauty that city dwellers demanded of their holiday destinations. It was wild and harsh, with a raw appeal that took her breath away.
“Nature is resilient.”
“That does not give us license to abuse her.”
“No.”
“I was hoping that coming here would help me get things clear in my head. Being on the water usually helps me work out what to do.”
“You’ll do the right thing.”
“I have to do the right thing.” He paused. “I just wish I knew what it was.”
Chapter Four
Olivia still wasn’t sure she was doing the right thing, but it was Khaled’s last night in Scotland and something fundamental had changed between them out on the island. The deep pull of physical desire was still there, but it was more than that. He bore so many burdens that she had not known about. He cared so much for the world, but he didn’t appear to have anyone who cared for him. At least for one night she could do that.
They barely spoke in the boat on the way back. Occasionally, Khaled rested his hand over hers on the rail, or hooked an arm around her waist when the waters grew choppier. Easy contact that went beyond friendship. He wouldn’t pressure her to abandon her scruples, but his invitation was there in every gesture. One night that no one else would ever know about. She could give him that.
She made up her mind.
She took a deep breath and knocked on his bedroom door.
Khaled opened it so fast she knew he must have been waiting for her. He didn’t say anything, just waited for her to enter.