It was a dress for a princess, Khaled realized, with a sinking feeling in his stomach. The little tiara she wore was no more than a plaything for a child, adorned with seed pearls and tiny jewels, but for Aliya it was a symbol of the position she hoped to have.
He couldn’t help comparing her with Olivia, dramatic on the other side of the room in her burnt orange gown. Against the deep red walls, she was like a glowing ember. A high neck and long sleeves gave the impression of modesty, though the way the fabric clung to her breasts made a mockery of that. And at the back, the neckline swooped, teasing men with all kinds of possibilities. The silk of the skirt flowed like molten metal—copper and gold, sinuously curving around the womanly body beneath. She was no untouchable princess, living in a cartoon fantasy with a talking animal for a friend. She was real and hot and possessed of a magnetic attraction against which Khaled had no defense.
Khaled forced himself to smile down at Aliya by his side. None of this was her fault. She deserved her dreams, too. Just not with him. She deserved more than to be married at nineteen to a man who loved another woman. Aliya was just a child, dressing up and playing at being a princess. She would be upset, but her heart would not be broken.
His eyes drifted back once more to Olivia, smiling and nodding as she spoke with one of Saqat’s senior ministers. He bent and whispered in his father’s ear. The older man frowned but agreed with a reluctant nod.
Khaled held out his hand to Aliya. “Will you walk with me?”
She smiled sweetly and let him tuck her hand into his arm. Khaled maneuvered her discreetly out of the stateroom and onto the terrace. He explained bluntly that he was sorry if her hopes had been raised, but he had no plans to marry at present. She frowned and he told her that he would speak with her father, and explain that it was not her fault.
“I will tell Jemimah to contact you about your shop. She will know how to help you.”
“Thank you, Your Highness. You are most kind.”
When they returned, Aliya walked two paces ahead of Khaled. Her spine was straight and her head held high. She was a brave girl, sorry to disappoint her father, but resigned to the prince’s will.
“She’s very pretty.”
Olivia had made her way to stand beside him. They both watched as Aliya crossed the room to her father’s side.
“Yes,” he said. “But very young.”
“I daresay that is a good thing.”
Khaled glanced at her. “You think so?”
She shrugged. “She will be more… adaptable.”
He laughed. “Indeed. Excuse me, please. I must speak to some of the other guests.”
Olivia sipped at her drink. The stateroom was impressive on any occasion, but tonight it sparkled. Vast crystal chandeliers lit the room. Golden tables were piled high with fruits and other Saqati delicacies. Palm trees and arched colonnades gave the illusion of an outdoor courtyard. A fairy tale reality.
Jemimah had noticed that Olivia was alone. She detached herself courteously from the guests she was with and came over.
“Have you heard?” she said, eyes gleaming with excitement.
“About what?”
“Your radio interview. Sadiah says the station phone lines have been jammed with women calling to see if they can meet you or find out more about you. And the competition entries have gone through the roof.” Olivia had donated a prize of a new laptop, loaded with educational software and configured for Arabic use.
She shook her head in amazement. “Why would they be so interested in me?”
“Because you were honest with them. You told them it wasn’t easy and they know that, but you also told them why it was worth it.”
“Yes, but…”
“Besides, there have been, well, not exactly rumors.” Jemimah’s eyes twinkled.
“What rumors?” If word had got out that she was from an oil company, Khaled would never forgive her. She would never forgive herself.
Jemimah nodded in Khaled’s direction. “Those kind of rumors. Ever since you visited the souk together.”
Olivia felt her face grow warm.
“But there is no need to worry. Everyone is pleased for him.”
The secrecy about the reason for her visit to Saqat was supposed to have stopped rumors about her business, not started gossip about her personal life.
“There isn’t anything for them to be pleased about, I promise. The sheikh and I are friends, that’s all. We were doing business together.”
“It’s all right,” Jemimah assured her. “You don’t have to tell me.”
There was no time to protest. The room fell quiet and all eyes turned to the emir seated on the gold and velvet throne on the small daïs. Olivia had heard about his illness from Khaled, but this was her first opportunity to see for herself.