“Unfortunately, Saqat is not a tourist destination.”
“Unfortunately?” That had been part of Saqat’s charm for Olivia. The market stalls carried traditionally crafted items produced by and for the locals rather than mass-manufactured souvenirs designed for Western visitors.
“We cannot compete with other Arab nations to build luxury hotels and golf courses in the desert. At present, there is nothing in Saqat to draw the foreign tourist.”
Olivia took a mouthful of some delicious pistachio dessert. “The foreign tourist and their foreign tourist dollars?”
“Precisely.”
She looked around at the ostentatious display of wealth at the table. Gold plates and gilded candlesticks. Bejeweled dishes heaped with fresh fruits. Saqat could put on a show as dazzling as anyone could want. The palace itself was well equipped and well maintained, but Olivia had already seen how desperately the country needed a new source of income. The city was full of crumbling buildings and outdated infrastructure. Khaled had told her that Internet access outside Saqat City was patchy and unreliable. Many people still eked out their living from the land. Small holdings of goats and chickens, fig trees, and almonds, and of course, fishing in the clear waters of the Gulf provided a basic lifestyle for the majority of the population.
They needed their oil. Tourism was a hard and unpredictable business, and most of Saqat’s coastline would not be well suited for it. But money from the wells could build hotels near the sandy beaches and establish new communities around those areas. All the potential was there.
If Khaled signed the contract with MCI Oil.
…
Khaled turned away from the window in his father’s room. Olivia had spent the whole morning lazing by the palace pool alone, and he had spent most of the morning glancing out of the window to watch her. He hoped his father hadn’t noticed how distracted he had been.
Last night at dinner, he had forced himself to keep his attention fixed on Aliya. She was pretty enough, and now that he was finding his way past her shyness, a pleasant dinner companion. More intelligent than he had suspected, and not without ambitions of her own. Aliya’s father had worked hard for his daughter’s marriage, but she herself was studying for a business degree and had told Khaled about her dream to open a dress shop in Saqat City. A designer boutique, she had explained with enthusiasm, to showcase the best of Middle Eastern design, as well as a few carefully selected global brands.
It was a good plan and he wished her well with it. As his wife, it would be good for her to have her own interests. A small business, not so time-consuming that it would stand in the way of her royal duties, but something that helped raise the international profile of Saqat would be ideal.
Outside, Olivia was taking off her perfectly modest bright blue shorts and white T-shirt, an outfit revealing enough to set Khaled’s imagination whirring. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her now that she was wearing a dark orange swimsuit. The stretchy fabric clung to every curve of her body.
He couldn’t not watch her.
He couldn’t not want her.
He just had to find a way of dealing with that.
Fortunately, he had plenty to take his mind off her. His father was determined to hand over the reins of government and to do it properly. He wasn’t well enough to spend more than a few hours a day with Khaled, but the time they had was spent in the inner office going through details of their current budget, the state of relations between Saqat and her neighbors, the men on the council and those whom the emir had in mind to invite to become council members in the future. Khaled was made acutely aware of how generous his father had been in protecting him from such matters up until now. But it was time for him to take on the responsibilities, and it was his duty to learn as much as he could from his father’s years of experience before he was left on his own.
“Son?”
“I’m sorry, Father. I was distracted for a moment.”
The emir looked at him intently. “Khaled, I know this is not what you wanted.”
“I will do my duty, sir. You need have no fears.”
The older man shook his head. “I have none on that front.”
“Then what is troubling you, sir?”
“Tell me what you think of Mahood’s daughter.”
Khaled ran a hand over his face. “She is very lovely.”
“Indeed.”
“I am sure she will be a most acceptable bride.”
His father nodded. “She is very acceptable to me, Khaled, but I am not the man who will be her husband.”
Khaled looked back to the window. Olivia was swimming lengths in the pool. Her dark curls were sleek with water and her skin was beginning to redden in the heat of the sun. She should use waterproof sunblock. He could make an excuse, run down, and tell her. He could offer to put it on for her.