by Leslie North
“I want more,” she said simply. “I want more of you.”
It was true on more than one level, though the song transitioned into a beat far too fast to dance to. Catelyn recognized it as the instrumental version of a song from the radio. She didn’t argue when Rami led her off the dance floor.
“I want more of you.” He looked into her eyes for a long moment before he leaned down to press a kiss to her lips. Then his breath brushed against the shell of her ear. “We could sneak out early.”
“We can’t.” Catelyn batted him away playfully. “You still have to talk to Lydia.”
“I talked to her earlier. At the rodeo.”
“That was only a quick greeting—”
Then his eyes locked on hers. “A quick greeting is all she’s going to get,” he said, and Catelyn shivered at the command in his voice. “My wife requires more. Let’s go.”
17
Catelyn sipped the last of her coffee, her hair lit by the morning sun as she looked out over the verdant grounds of Lydia’s estate. Rami couldn’t help but admire her—standing there, in front of the window, sleep rumpled and warm. They’d had a good time last night. Especially once they left the party.
“All right,” Catelyn said, turning away from the view and putting her coffee cup on a small table by the window. “I’d better get dressed.”
Rami had been ready for an hour. It was the day of the big pitch meeting, and it was going to take place on Lydia’s private gun range. He didn’t know much about guns—those were for his bodyguards to deal with—but he was confident that his business acumen would carry him through the day. Things had gone well enough last night at the party that he wasn’t worried about it. “Where are you headed?”
Catelyn arched an eyebrow at him. “I’m going with you.”
“Going with me where?”
“To the range.” Her mouth quirked in a smile. “Lydia invited me last night. I thought you heard.”
He hadn’t heard. “That was kind of her.”
Catelyn cocked her head to the side. “You look unhappy.”
“I’m not unhappy,” he said. It wasn’t a lie—not exactly. He was not unhappy that Catelyn had been invited. But he was uneasy. This was purely a business meeting, and it was exactly the kind of meeting that Catelyn couldn’t be involved in. It concerned too many confidential details about the agreement with Lydia, and that was delicate business. He forced himself to smile at her. “We’re meeting in less than an hour. You’d better hurry.”
The moment the bathroom door closed behind her, Rami turned away, taking Catelyn’s place at the window. The view didn’t calm him.
This affected more than just the two of them. It was a matter of national security, and it had to stay private, protected, because they were going to be divorced in a year. He couldn’t risk it.
His stomach turned. It felt disgusting, planning with her, taking her advice—even bringing her on the trip—knowing that he’d have to turn around and deny her this.
But could he? Lydia was the person he was trying to charm, and it would not be good for him if he arrived without his wife. It was why he’d married her, after all. For just this moment. Wasn’t it?
He was deep in thought when Catelyn emerged, fully dressed, her hair in a low bun at the back of her head. “Are you ready, husband mine?” Her voice was light, as if she’d forgotten about the final clause of their arrangement.
But Rami’s heart was heavy.
“It should be good for us both,” Lydia said to him between shots. They’d moved outside to a different set of targets. “Unless there’s something you have reservations about.”
Rami felt off-balance. This wasn’t the high-powered pitch meeting he’d been prepared for. In fact, it was a collection of about twelve people casually shooting at targets and chatting. Lydia spent most of her time focused on Rami. “My only reservation is that—” No. That was a terrible way to phrase it. He sounded like his family was dealing with internal issues. “I don’t have any reservations.”
Lydia was looking past him. “She’s good.”
He turned to follow her gaze. Catelyn stood at the other end of the range, ear protection on and gun in hand. She squeezed off a shot, and Rami blinked at her target. It was very near a bullseye.
“She is,” he agreed. Catelyn put the gun down on the table in front of her with care, then turned to the man who had come up to her shoulder. It was one of the people who’d been at the dinner last night. Good. She’d be distracted for another few minutes.
He tried again. “What I mean to say is—”
Lydia fixed him with a steady gaze. “How are things between you and Catelyn?”
He stifled his irritation. This didn’t have anything to do with the deal he and Lydia were making, but he could practically hear Catelyn warning him to go along with this. “They’re wonderful.” They were—that much was true. And Rami had the sickening sensation that things would be wonderful right up until the moment they ended.
“I’ve rarely seen a couple so in tune and confident with each other.” Lydia looked past him again. “How is she settling in to the royal lifestyle?”
He gave her the most charming grin he could summon. “It has its challenges, but you know Catelyn. She handles everything with grace.”
Lydia smiled back at him, and for the first time Rami felt like he had his feet on solid ground. “I can agree with that. That’s why I want our deal to depend on your partnership.”
“My…partnership?” What was she talking about? His connections with the royal family? Of course it would depend on that, but—
“Your partnership with Catelyn.” Lydia nodded to herself, as if she’d only now made up her mind. “The contract is yours on the condition that Catelyn signs it as well.”
Rami knew his mouth was hanging open. He snapped it shut, then opened it again—but he was speechless.
His mind raced. For one thing, Catelyn had her wedding business. He couldn’t ask her to devote more of her time to administering the deal, which was set to be run from Al-Dashalid for ten years. For another, they’d be divorced before the first year was even complete. Would Lydia renege when that happened? On top of it all, Catelyn needed to be a citizen of Al-Dashalid before she could be party to the deal, according to the bylaws of the company.
He had to keep his head in the game. That was the most essential thing of all. This was the point in the conversation when he usually said something ill-advised, and it always came back to bite him. He couldn’t do that now. He couldn’t let all his conflicting emotions derail this, though the struggle between his head and his heart tore at him. Yes, they were electric together in the bedroom, and yes, Catelyn had pushed and pushed until he was ready for this very encounter with Lydia. But despite all of that…
She was only temporary in his life.
That’s what they’d agreed to.
There was no way around it.
“My wife is unable to sign,” he said bluntly.
Lydia raised her eyebrows. “What? Why would Catelyn be unable to sign?”
“I heard my name. Did you two need me?” Rami’s heart sank at the touch of Catelyn’s hand on his elbow, warm and familiar. She smiled up at him. “Sign what, by the way? I’ve got an excellent autograph,” she joked, winking at Lydia.
Her former mentor showed no such lightheartedness. “We were discussing a possible contract between Morris International and your husband’s family,” Lydia answered flatly. “I had explained to Sheikh Rami that the deal would only go forward with your participation.”
Rami couldn’t tear his eyes away from Catelyn. Her own eyebrows rose. “Lydia, that’s—that’s so flattering, but—”
Lydia turned to face Catelyn. “You’re the one I trust. And you’re the reason I’m willing to place my faith in Rami’s family. I want you to be included on every level. Only it seems that won’t be possible.”
“No, it won’t,” said Rami, and he felt Catelyn’s grip on his
elbow tense. “It’s my word or nothing.”
“What?” Catelyn was flabbergasted. “You’ve already made up your mind?”
“There are lots of factors going into this decision,” he told her, even though it killed him to see the hurt in her blue eyes. “The fact is, you’re not in a position to enter a long-term contract on behalf of my family.”
Catelyn pulled away, looking from Rami to Lydia and back again. “What’s happening here? I would have been happy to sign,” she said to Lydia. “I don’t understand.”
“That’s enough,” said Rami. The situation was spinning out of control, and he was to blame. Not for the way this conversation had gone, but for pursuing Catelyn in the first place. If they hadn’t been married—
If they hadn’t been married, he wouldn’t be having this conversation at all. It didn’t work without her. And it didn’t work with her, either.
“Enough?” said Catelyn softly. “Do you really mean that?” She took another half step back, shock written on her face.
No, his heart cried. “Yes,” he said, looking at her with a level gaze. “I don’t need you involved in this anymore.”
She blinked at him. And then she turned stiffly to Lydia. “I’m sorry,” she said, a weak smile flickering across her lips. “I’m going to have to leave early.”
Lydia cut a sharp glance toward Rami. “I understand. Will I see you tomorrow?”
Catelyn stepped forward and gave Lydia a quick hug. “I don’t know. But I’ll be in touch. Okay?”
“Call me,” answered Lydia.
Catelyn walked away without another glance at Rami.
Lydia took a breath as if she were going to say something, but instead she shook her head and went in the opposite direction, leaving Rami utterly alone.
18
He could hardly think. He could hardly breathe. Without Catelyn by his side, Lydia’s estate was a horrible, empty thing, and all the natural splendor of the lawns and the gardens couldn’t distract him from the awful truth of her absence.
She hadn’t answered a single one of his texts or calls. He spent two hours looking for her on the sprawling estate after she walked away from him at the shooting range. In the end he’d gone back to the suite they shared.
All of her things were gone.
Her things. Catelyn had brought several dresses and other pieces from the dressmaker’s shop in Al-Dashalid, but those were all hanging in the closet. She’d packed her small suitcase with the things that were hers and hers alone and gone. Her tennis shoes were missing from their spot beneath the luggage rack.
It hurt him to see that empty space.
And hurting made him furious.
Rami paced the empty room for as long as he could bear it, and then he yanked his phone from his pocket and dialed a number.
The royal family’s concierge at the company that managed their private jet picked up on the first ring.
“Avi, I need the plane,” Rami barked into the phone. He was usually polite with Avi, but the ache in his heart was shooting acid anger into his veins. “I need it now. My flight plans for the weekend have been changed, and I need to get back to Al-Dashalid without delay.
“I’m so sorry, Sheikh Rami,” Avi said. “But—”
“Good,” he said automatically. “I’ll be arriving at the airport in an hour.” Too late, Avi’s words registered. “What did you say?”
“I apologized,” Avi replied without missing a beat. “The jet is in use. I’d be happy to arrange a commercial flight for you, or I can check to see if another client’s jet might be available—”
“Who has the jet?” Rami knew he was being too sharp with Avi, but he couldn’t stop himself.
“Sheikh Kyril has the jet,” Avi answered, a note of wariness creeping into his tone. “I’m more than happy to—”
“I’ll contact him,” Rami said, cutting the call short.
The video call to Kyril took three tries to connect, and by the third attempt Rami was ready to throw his phone out the window. But at last the window blurred and then cleared, Kyril’s face appearing in the middle of the screen. A moment later, the sound cut in.
It was deafening.
Inan was shrieking at the top of his lungs in the background of the call, and Kyril was half-turned toward his son. “Inan, it’s time to be quiet,” he scolded gently. “I’m talking to Uncle Rami. Do you want to say hello to Uncle Rami?”
Inan screamed “NO!”
Kyril laughed, turning toward the phone. “What can I do for my unbelievably romantic younger brother?”
“I’m not in the mood,” said Rami.
Inan tore past Kyril again, hooting like an owl. “Give me a moment,” Kyril told Rami, then turned his face away from the screen. “Hannah? Hannah, come out here.” Her reply was too muffled to hear, as if she were in a far room of whatever estate they were at. Rami didn’t recognize it as one of the royal properties. He gritted his teeth. What was it going to take to get Kyril to pay attention for long enough to—
“What’s on your mind, brother?” Kyril was back. He gave Rami and arch look. “Trouble in paradise?” He laughed at what he clearly thought was a fantastic joke.
“I need the jet.” Rami ignored Kyril’s comment completely. The last thing he wanted was for this conversation to devolve into a litany of jokes at Rami’s expense. “I need to come back from Texas now.”
Kyril raised one eyebrow. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the States for another week?”
“Why so many questions?” Rami shot back. “Have the jet sent to Texas.”
Kyril shook his head. “I’m going to need more information than that. We’re on holiday in Italy, and tomorrow we fly to Spain.”
“Everything is in shambles. Is that enough of an explanation?” Rami didn’t bother to keep the fury out of his expression.
“What do you mean?”
“I need the jet more than you do. Have it sent to Texas. As soon as possible. Can you charter a yacht? Hannah likes those more than planes.” Hannah and Kyril had told the story of their own whirlwind romance enough times that Rami didn’t have to reach for that detail. Though she didn’t seem to mind the private jet so much as she did commercial flights.
“What’s in shambles, Rami?” Kyril insisted. “Did the deal fall through?”
“Yes, the deal fell through. The deal might as well be dead.”
“What happened?” In the background Inan started shouting again, and Kyril walked a little farther away, the noise receding slightly. “Did Morris flinch?”
“She wanted Catelyn involved, and that can’t happen, for reasons that should be obvious to everyone. And now she’s gone and ruined everything.”
“Who? Lydia Morris?”
“Catelyn.”
“I don’t—” Kyril shook his head. “How exactly has Catelyn gone from your partner in crime to ruining your life?”
“She’s gone,” Rami burst out. “She’s furious with me for telling her the truth.”
“What truth?”
“The truth about her position in this family.” Rami tried to calm down, tried to slow down. “She can’t cosign the contract with me.”
“Why not?”
“She’s not a citizen, to begin with, and—” He didn’t want to go so far as to admit that they’d agreed to divorce after a year. “Approaching this as a couple will only invite chaos. Look at you and Hannah. Listen.” Inan was shrieking again, this time with laughter.
Kyril waved him off. “Chaos? This is nothing. This is life. And I wouldn’t give it up for anything. If you’re afraid of a little chaos, Rami, then you’re going to miss the best parts of what this world has to offer.”
“It’s loud and disruptive,” Rami argued.
“So what?” Kyril laughed. “Soon it will be even louder. Hannah’s pregnant again.”
Rami’s mouth fell open in shock. “I—congratulations.”
Hannah’s face appeared next to Kyril’s on the screen. “Hi, Rami,”
she said, eyes sparkling. “I see Kyril told you the happy news.”
“Congratulations,” he repeated.
Hannah swatted Kyril’s shoulder. “You’re making us late for dinner,” she said affectionately.
“I’ll be right there,” he said, and as if they were alone, he turned his face to hers and kissed her—a slow, passionate kiss that made Rami want to look away. So he did. They were so happy that he couldn’t bear to face it.
“Will we see you soon, Rami?” Hannah’s voice brought his attention back to the screen.
“Sooner if Kyril lets me have the plane.”
Hannah laughed, the sound bright. “You can’t have the plane. We coordinated these dates months ago. Enjoy yourself in the States, okay?” She turned her head sharply, called, “Inan, no!” and darted away.
Kyril watched her leave, then faced Rami again. “Give me a good reason,” he said softly. “Tell me one good reason why she’s ruining your life.”
For the second time that day, Rami was speechless.
“That’s what I thought,” said Kyril. “Love isn’t always easy, little brother. It’s not always orderly. It’s not always as clean as a business arrangement. Sometimes it’s chaos. But it’s always worth it.” He nodded to himself. “I’m not sending the plane back early. I don’t need any more details, but I have the sense you owe someone an apology.”
Kyril was right.
He’d been a complete ass in more ways than one. Without Catelyn, he wouldn’t have had a chance at the contract—it would have been over the very first night they met. She was the only reason he had been invited back to Lydia’s estate at all.
“I have some calls to make,” Rami told Kyril.
“Good luck,” Kyril said, and he disconnected the call.
Rami had to make this right, and he had to start this very moment.
Rami flipped through the contacts on his phone, his thumb hovering over Catelyn’s name. He badly wanted to call her one more time to see if she’d answer, but first things first—he would have to do the hard thing. The thing he did not want to do. The thing he’d bene trying to avoid all this time.