‘Georgie’s luggage has been loaded, but Ibrahim’s is taking a while to come off.’
‘La Shy,’ Ibrahim said and Felicity, who must have picked up some of the language, frowned.
‘You’ve got no luggage?’
‘Just carry-on.’ He held up a smart bag that Georgie was positive he hadn’t been holding on boarding.
The car ride was short, the conversation seemingly pleasant, but it was mainly Georgie and Felicity speaking.
Back at the palace Ibrahim had an extremely cursory chat with his family, then excused himself with an outright lie.
‘I couldn’t sleep on the plane.’
When he left them, Georgie could relax a little and after Felicity had fed the baby, she was delighted to have a proper cuddle. ‘She’s stunning.’ Georgie enthused again.
‘Her lungs are!’ Karim said. ‘Half the palace was woken at four a.m. this morning.’
‘I had the French windows open to let in some air.’ Felicity grinned and Georgie could only marvel at the changes in her sister. She had always been so tense and uptight, but there was a lightness to her now. Her face glowed as she smiled up at her husband. ‘Anyway, soon it won’t just be Azizah disrupting the palace.’
‘When is Jasmine’s baby due?’ Georgie asked.
‘Jamal,’ Felicity gently corrected her, because her sister found it impossible to keep up with all the names. ‘She’s got five weeks to go and I just can’t wait.’
‘Is that the aunt-to-be talking,’ Georgie asked, ‘or the midwife?’
‘Both,’ Felicity admitted. And as easily as that the conversation flowed.
Even if her sister was a princess now, even if she lived in a palace far away, she was still Felicity, still her big sister, still the person Georgie loved most in the world. Karim did have to dash off, but the girls hardly noticed, there was too much to catch up on. Long after they had eaten and late, late into the night, when everyone else was in bed, still the sisters sat talking in a sumptuous, surprisingly informal lounge at the front of the palace, the windows open and fragrant air drifting in. Felicity had the baby monitor by her side, and somehow Georgie found the words to tell her sister about a marriage that had happened more than three years ago, a marriage she had soon realised was a mistake.
‘You’re disappointed.’ Georgie could tell.
‘No.’ Felicity shook her head. ‘I don’t know. I understand you felt you had to get away from home. I’m just sad you couldn’t tell me.’
‘I didn’t feel I could tell anyone at the time.’ Georgie admitted. ‘I haven’t told any of my friends. I just thought Mike … He seemed so solid, so mature …’ She looked over at her sister. ‘But it turned out he was a bully, like Dad—except he wore a suit and instead of beer it was expensive whisky. It only took a few weeks for me to come to my senses. I’m lucky …’
‘Lucky?’
‘A lot of women stay. I got out of it quickly. It just took a couple of years to face up to the paperwork and legalities and then another year of waiting. My divorce came through just as I was leaving for here. I’m finally free.’
‘You’ve been free for ages,’ Felicity said, but Georgie didn’t try to explain her feelings to her sister. How some principle had held her back, how until her divorce was through she hadn’t felt free to start dating, and in many ways it had been the healthiest thing for her—that time had taught her that she didn’t need a man to escape to, or run to. Everything she needed, she possessed already.
‘You won’t tell Mum.’
‘God, no!’ Felicity’s response was immediate. ‘And don’t talk about it here, they just wouldn’t understand at all.’
‘Promise me that you won’t tell anyone.’ The intimate conversation was interrupted. Headlights flooded the lounge with light. The sound of a car unfamiliar to Georgie in the large grounds was followed by chatter and laughter and then the slam of a car door. There was the running of feet on the stone stairs and Felicity’s lips tightened.
‘He’s so inconsiderate. It was the same last time he was here.’ And when a wail came up over the intercom she pulled open the lounge door to address Ibrahim, who was talking loudly to a sleepy maid.
‘You’ve woken Azizah.’
‘Not necessarily.’ So effortlessly he slipped from Arabic to English. ‘I may be mistaken, but I’m sure I read somewhere that babies tend to wake in the night.’
Sarcasm suited him, it so suited him that Georgie let out a small giggle, but Ibrahim did not look at her. Instead he spoke to Felicity. ‘I’m sorry if I woke her … I forgot there is now a baby in the palace.’
‘There’ll be two soon!’ Felicity said. ‘So you’d better start remembering.’
‘No need. I’m flying back to London in a couple of days, before the palace turns into a crèche.’ As Felicity headed off to tend to her baby, he acknowledged Georgie, his voice distinctly cool when he did. ‘I was not expecting to see you here.’ Ibrahim said. ‘You never mentioned you were coming.’
‘Neither did you,’ Georgie pointed out.
‘Your flight?’ Ibrahim checked. ‘How was it?’ And something told her he was concerned that she had seen him, that she knew the sleek, poised man who had arrived in Zaraq had not been the man that left London, but Georgie chose not to tell.
‘Wonderful.’ Georgie said, but didn’t elaborate, and Ibrahim said nothing to fill the stretch of silence, just walked across the lounge and sat on the sofa opposite as a maid brought in his drink. She didn’t know what to say to him and he certainly wasn’t giving her any help. Georgie was relieved when her sister called from the stairs. ‘Georgie! Can you give me a hand with Azizah?’
‘I’ll say goodnight, then.’ He didn’t return the farewell, but she watched his jaw tighten when clearly she hadn’t jumped quickly enough and Felicity called to her again. As she walked past, Ibrahim caught her wrist. ‘That’s what maids are for.’ She looked down at his long fingers wrapped around her pale wrist and she wished he would drop the contact, wished he would not look up at her because her face was on fire. ‘Tell her you are taking refreshments with me.’
‘I’m happy to help my sister with Azizah.’
‘At one in the morning?’ Ibrahim said. ‘Does she have you on call all night?’ He watched her face burn, felt the hammer of her radial pulse beneath his fingers in response to his touch, and in that moment he could almost have forgiven her for rejecting him. He considered pulling her down onto his lap. ‘Join me.’ It wasn’t a request, Georgie knew that—it was a challenge.
‘I’m here to spend time with my sister and niece.’ He dropped her wrist and without another word she left the room and walked through the maze of the palace to join Felicity in the nursery where she had settled down to feed.
‘What kept you?’ Felicity asked as Georgie closed the door.
‘I was just talking to Ibrahim.’ Georgie kept her voice light.
‘Why?’ And there was challenge too in Felicity’s question, just a teeny call to arms, and Georgie refused to go there, choosing to tease instead.
‘Why wouldn’t I? It was either chat to a beautiful man or watch my sister breastfeed.’
To her credit, Felicity smiled.
‘He asked about my flight. I just said goodnight.’
‘Stay away from him,’ Felicity warned. ‘He’s trouble. I’ve seen how he treats women—he’d eat you alive and then spit out the pips.’
‘We were just saying goodnight!’ Georgie laughed, but Felicity would not relent.
‘He’s so arrogant. Strolls back unannounced and expects everyone to jump to his whims, swans around the palace without a care in the world.’ Georgie opened her mouth to interrupt because Ibrahim had looked far from carefree on the plane, but she decided against it, intuitively knowing Ibrahim wouldn’t want that information shared. ‘He’s completely spoilt!’ Felicity moaned on. ‘Way too used to getting his own way, though not for much longer.’
‘What do you mean?’ Georgie asked, but
Felicity shook her head.
‘I’ve said too much.’
‘It’s me!’ Georgie pointed out. ‘And given what I told you earlier …’
‘Okay,’ Felicity relented, but, paranoid as ever, she had Georgie check and double-check that the intercom was turned off, then still spoke in a whisper. ‘The king’s had enough. Karim told me he’s going to be talking to Ibrahim tomorrow. He wants him back in Zaraq, he’s tired of his youngest son’s ways. Ibrahim was supposed to go to London to study engineering and then come back, but he’s finished his master’s now and there’s still no sign of him returning. Ibrahim’s working mainly from there and saying that he wants to continue with his studies, but the king wants him here.’
‘So, is he closing the open cheque book?’ Georgie struggled to keep her voice light.
‘He tried that a couple of years ago apparently.’ Felicity sighed. ‘And Ibrahim promptly went into business with one of Zaraq’s leading architects. A lot of that dazzling skyline is thanks to my brother-in-law’s brilliant brain. Ibrahim doesn’t actually need royal financial support.’
‘So how can he stop him?’ Georgie asked. ‘If Ibrahim doesn’t want to be here, how can his father force him?’
‘His father’s king,’ Felicity pointed out. ‘And Ibrahim, at the end of the day, is a royal prince and privilege comes with responsibility.’
‘You’re starting to sound like them!’ Georgie attempted a joke, but Felicity shook her head.
‘Look at all the work Karim does for the people. He’s out there now in the middle of the desert, working with sick people, while Ibrahim’s working his way along the bar at the casino like a tourist. Well, Ibrahim’s a prince and the king’s tired of waiting for him to act like one.’ Even though she was whispering, she still dropped her voice. ‘He’s going to be choosing a bride for him, whether he wants it or not. Soon Ibrahim’s going to be coming home for good.’
CHAPTER FIVE
SHE’D slept too much on the plane and Georgie woke before sunrise, pulled the shutters open and properly surveyed her gorgeous room then climbed back into bed. After a moment’s deliberation, she did what Felicity had told her to if she wanted anything, anything at all, and picked up the bedside phone. It didn’t even ring once before it was answered, and in no time at all there was a tray laden with coffee and fruit and juices being delivered not just to her room but onto a bedside table. Her pillows were rearranged and Georgie cringed at the attention and wondered how Felicity could have so easily got used to it.
The coffee was too strong, too sweet and had an almost smoky flavour to it and she sipped it slowly, then chose to take her tray and enjoy the sight of the sun rising over the ocean.
Opening the French windows, she stepped out onto the balcony and watched the magical display—the sky lit up with pinks and oranges, the air warm on her skin. She was filled with a yearning to see a desert sunrise, to follow those warm fingers of light and see them awaken all that was behind. But as much as Georgie wanted to witness the splendour, she knew that again this trip it would be unlikely—Felicity was very busy and wouldn’t want to leave little Azizah overnight.
One day she’d see it. Georgie told herself to be patient, but she was drawn to the magic Ibrahim had so readily dismissed, wanted to find out more for herself about the tales of the desert, to sample the food and inhale the oils, to see more of Zaraq than just the shops and the palace.
And then she saw him. A man on his horse. It could have been any of the brothers, from this distance it might even have been the king, but her heart told her it was Ibrahim. He certainly didn’t look like a man who was recovering from the previous night’s excess and not for the first time Georgie wondered if Felicity was mistaken about how Ibrahim spent his evenings. There was something about the speed of his riding, a combination of youth, vigor and power as he hurtled along the beach that told her it was him. He pulled up suddenly, patting the beast’s neck and guiding him to a slow walk in the water, and then he looked up and saw the sun glisten on the palace and saw Georgie watching him.
He did not acknowledge her, did not lift a hand to wave. He just turned and kicked his horse back into a gallop, leaving a white streak of surf behind him, and she knew she’d just been snubbed. Still, you didn’t say no to a man like Ibrahim and then expect a cheery wave the following morning.
Why was he here? Georgie wondered, as she showered and dressed. What had suddenly prompted him to return unannounced? Oh, she’d seen him dashing and smiling, descending on Zaraq oozing charm and bearing gifts.
She’d seen the torment in his face too—only not even Ibrahim knew that.
The thought stayed with her as she showered and, dressed, joined her sister for breakfast.
‘Is this okay?’ she asked as she took her seat. It was a perpetual question for Georgie while in Zaraq. She was dressed in a loose-fitting cream shift dress with flat, strappy sandals and even though it was modest, she still felt as if she was showing way too much skin.
‘Relax!’ Felicity said. ‘You look wonderful. It’s only if you come out with me on official business, which you won’t,’ she hastily added when Georgie’s eyes widened in horror, ‘that you would have to cover up.’ And then Felicity gave a wry laugh. ‘Actually, technically you wouldn’t. You’re married after all.’
‘Not any more.’
‘Oh, but you are in Zaraq.’ Felicity said, but didn’t get to elaborate as the king came out to the courtyard where they were taking breakfast.
‘Have you seen Ibrahim?’ Felicity didn’t turn a hair, but Georgie felt her heart pound because the king was a formidable man, especially close up, and he didn’t look best pleased. ‘No doubt he is still sleeping.’ She wanted to correct him, to tell the king that Ibrahim was, in fact, out riding, but she knew it wasn’t her place, even though the king sounded irritated. ‘Where is everyone?’
‘Karim left early to attend a meeting on the health situation with the Bedouins,’ Felicity answered calmly. ‘I haven’t seen anyone else.’
‘Well, if you see Ibrahim, please remind him that I want him to come to my office before he no doubt disappears again.’
‘Not likely.’ Felicity said, once the King was safely out of earshot. ‘I’m staying well out of their way today and so are you.’ She smiled at her sister. ‘We’re off to the spa for the morning!’
It wasn’t quite as simple as that. Felicity hadn’t left Azizah for any length of time with Rina the nanny, and spent ages explaining to her about how her stored breast milk was to be used. She was still rather tense when she and Georgie climbed into the limousine.
‘She’ll be fine,’ Georgie soothed. ‘Rina seems wonderful with her.’
‘I know.’ Felicity admitted. ‘I’m going to have to get used to leaving her—there are so many functions and I’m also thinking of going back to work! Just occasionally,’ Felicity said, seeing Georgie’s eyes widen. ‘Midwifery is what I love, it’s who I am, and I don’t ever want to lose that. Rina is lovely and everything but Azizah doesn’t seem to relax with her.’ Georgie knew what was coming. They’d had this conversation so many times before and she tried to divert it.
‘Maybe she needs a little more time—just her and Rina,’ Georgie attempted. ‘You do hover a bit. Rina seems wonderful, you just don’t give her a chance. It’s good you’re out this morning.’
But Felicity would not relent. ‘I want Azizah to grow up with family.’ She looked at Georgie. ‘I want to be with my family too. Mum’s considering it, but I know she’d jump if you were here too. Please, Georgie, say you’ll seriously think about it.’
And it would be so easy to say yes, because she missed her sister and niece too. So very easy to give up trying to get her holistic healing business off the ground and just sink into the luxurious lifestyle her sister was offering.
Too easy.
Felicity had always looked out for her, had always looked after her through difficult times. The reason Felicity had first come to Zaraq had been to
pay off the loan she had taken out to pay for Georgie’s rehab, and though the offer was tempting, there was a need in Georgie to go it alone, to prove to herself she could get by without her big sister’s help.
‘Let’s talk about it another time.’ Georgie said as the car headed off and she craned her neck for a glimpse as the palace gates slid open.
‘What are you looking at?’
‘Just the view.’ Georgie smiled. ‘I can’t believe I’m staying in a palace.’
‘You could live in a palace.’ Felicity pushed, but Georgie just gave a noncommittal smile, her mind elsewhere.
It wasn’t the palace, she had been trying to get a glimpse of.
It had been Ibrahim.
It was always Ibrahim, not that she could admit it to her sister. And he stayed on her mind as they arrived in Zaraqua and an external glass elevator propelled them to the forty-second floor of a skyscraper, and Georgie remembered that she didn’t like heights.
‘Ibrahim’s work!’ Felicity said to Georgie’s pale face as they shot skyward. ‘He designed this lift.’
‘Then remind me to tell him I hate him!’ Georgie shivered. ‘And tell me when I can open my eyes.’
‘Now.’
They stepped into spa heaven. The lights were dimmed and the air fragrant as they were led to a changing room that was twice the size of Georgie’s small flat at home. ‘I want to try everything …’ Georgie said as she changed into a gown, her mind exploding with ideas for her fledgling business back home. ‘Is there a menu?’
‘It’s all sorted,’ Felicity said. ‘We’re here for the Hamman Ritual and there isn’t a single decision you have to make. It’s absolute bliss.’
It was.
Through dimmed rooms lit with candles they were led, and as Georgie’s eyes adjusted she saw the tadelakt wall with its intricate tiling.
‘It’s so hot,’ Georgie whispered.
‘You’ll get used to it.’
Oh, she’d love to get used to it. She was lowered into a sunken bath and her body washed with black soap and then, on emerging, she was led to another heated room where every inch of her skin was exfoliated, the bathing repeated and then every superfluous hair removed with sugar and honey. From heated room to heated room they were guided, every treatment skillfully applied, every scent thoughtfully chosen, and two hours later, wrapped in a robe, sipping at fragrant tea and enjoying the soft music, Georgie smiled back at her sister, who was watching her.
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