“May I have this dance?”
The party was over and the guests were departing. The room had gone quiet, with only the muted sound of the caterers tidying up and the musicians packing away. He took Olivia’s glass and set it down on a table, then led her into the middle of the empty floor. She leaned into his body, and together they swayed to an imagined melody.
“You were watching me earlier,” she murmured.
“You were thinking about me,” he countered.
She didn’t attempt to deny it.
“Lovely Livvy,” he whispered. “So lovely.” His father had agreed to the plan for an oil company owned and operated by Saqat. Tomorrow he would put his proposals to the rest of the council, and then he would call Sadiah Saoud. If anyone could tell him what the people were thinking, Sadiah could. He’d heard some rumors and he was beginning to hope, but he wasn’t sure enough. He needed to be certain of everything before he asked the woman he loved to sacrifice her dreams and ambitions for him. So, tonight, he just held her, swayed with her, loved her.
“Are you drunk?”
“Haven’t had a drop. Not the done thing at these events.”
“But…” She waved in the direction of the bar.
“Alcohol for guests, especially Westerners. Not for Muslim princes.” He didn’t need it. Not when Olivia was in his arms and they were dancing. “Are you tired?”
She shook her head.
“Good. Go to bed.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
Khaled touched her cheek. “I’ll join you in a few minutes, sweetheart.”
“Khaled…”
“It doesn’t have to be over, Livvy.”
“No further contact, you said.”
“No,” he smiled. “That’s what you said.”
“That’s what I said.”
“You’re drunk, Olivia. Aren’t you?”
“Am I?”
Damn, she was. “I think you are.”
“Are you?”
“No. I already said that.”
“Can’t be drunk. I didn’t have that much.”
“It’s the heat, I expect. It can make the effects much worse. Shall I take you upstairs?”
“To bed?”
“To your bed.”
She shook her head. “To your bed.”
Not a chance. Not while she was drunk. “Not tonight.”
She poked him in the chest. “Not supposed to be at all.”
“We’ll see. Here, hold on.”
He hoisted her up into his arms so that her face was close to his. She beamed at him. “Hello.”
“Hello.”
“Are you carrying me?”
“Yes.”
“Over the thresh… the thesh.. the hold?”
“No. Just up to bed.” He shifted her position as he began to climb the stairs.
“Because you mustn’t carry me over the… that thing. The hold.”
“I won’t.” It wasn’t a Saqati custom to carry a bride over the threshold of the new marital home. Perhaps he would be able to set a new trend with his foreign bride.
“Nor her. The other girl.”
“Aliya.”
“S’right. Not marrying her either. You said so.”
“I did. And I’m not.”
She leaned in close to whisper, loud enough that the cleaners could probably hear her downstairs. “She was pretty.”
“Yes, she was.”
“Prettier than me?”
“No.” They had reached the door to Olivia’s guest suite. “Can you stand up if I put you down?”
She tilted her head and looked down at the floor dubiously. “Don’t think so.”
“Fine.”
He shouldered the door open and flicked the light switch. He couldn’t just dump her on the bed and leave. He ought to call Jemimah to help her, or one of the maids. He oughtn’t to be slipping her shoes off. He really oughtn’t to be rolling her silky lace stockings down.
He stood up and backed away from the bed into a much safer area of the room. “Do you need anything? Glass of water? Painkillers?”
She beamed at him. “I’ve drunk enough, silly.”
Khaled shook his head at her. “You’d better go to sleep. I’ll send someone with headache tablets in the morning.”
She pouted. “Can’t sleep in my dress. Wrinkles.”
She was killing him. If it were anyone but Olivia, he would have suspected her of doing it deliberately. But Livvy didn’t play games. He’d put money on her not getting drunk all that often either.
“Turn over,” he said. He found the zipper and undid it swiftly. The soft fabric fell away easily. Khaled slipped her arms out of the sleeves and tugged at the skirts. No bra. Barely there black lace panties. Why had she chosen tonight, of all nights, to break out the sexy lingerie?
He didn’t look. He wasn’t looking. He pulled the duvet over her as fast as he could manage.
“There. Will you go to sleep now?”
She rolled over onto her back and squinted at him. “Aren’t you coming to bed?”
God help him. “No. Not tonight.”
She slumped back against the pillows. “Spoilsport.”
“I know. Sleep, Livvy. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Don’t want to talk.”
“Okay. We won’t talk tomorrow.”