they went through three art galleries, then circled back to the private quarters.
Maha ticked off the rooms as they passed by. “A private dining area,” she said. “Another set of guest suites. Down that hallway is a fully equipped gym and pool.” They rounded another corner. “And—ah, Sheikh Zayid.”
At the sound of his name, all the hairs on Laila’s skin stood up. Zayid waited outside the door to her guest suite, hands in his pockets, feet planted. Somehow his jaw seemed even sharper, his muscles more defined, than last night. She felt his eyes on her like two embers.
“Sheikh Zayid,” Laila said. They drew up in front of him. “I’m glad to see you.”
Amusement danced in his eyes. “I gather you felt a bit impatient about our meeting today.”
That same twist of irritation mixed with desire curled through her like a ribbon. “Did you get the message I sent?”
“I did.” Now a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “I had other obligations to attend to first.”
“I don’t have a charger for my phone,” she blurted out. “That was one thing I wanted to talk to you about.”
Zayid gave her a slow nod. “Maha, thank you.”
Maha murmured something in Arabic and was gone in a breath of lavender-scented air. The atmosphere around them seemed charged, electric, and Laila was relieved when Zayid spoke again.
“I think there’s more to discuss than a charging cable.” He opened the door to her room. “But for the record, that’s been taken care of.” Her phone waited for her on a side table snugged up next to the sofa, plugged into a slim white cable. “Was there someone you needed to call?”
She put the phone down. “Not yet.” Facing Zayid was like staring into the sun. “Let’s talk first.”
Zayid gestured for her to sit, and this time she didn’t hesitate. He lowered himself easily into a chair across from her. “I assume you’ve made your decision.”
“I’m almost there. I have a few questions.”
He inclined his head, and Laila fought the urge to leap across the coffee table and throw her arms around his neck. He could catch her. Easily. No doubt about that.
“First,” she said, her old instinct for adventure kicking in, “if I were to accept your proposal, what would my role in this marriage be?”
He held her gaze. “Because it’s a short-term arrangement, I would only need you to perform a few social duties. There would be nothing else required of you, except for those public appearances. We’ll keep our relationship platonic and remain friendly acquaintances.”
Laila nodded crisply, ignoring the twinge of disappointment she felt at her core. “And my grandfather.” Her throat tightened, and another wave of heat threatened her cheeks. “You said you’d take care of him. What does that mean?” She cleared her throat, trying to sound less like she was on the verge of tears. “How are you going do to that?” Laila sat up straight and rearranged her hands in her lap.
All the traces of amusement disappeared from Zayid’s expression, leaving behind a cold determination. “Labeeb will be treated as a member of the royal family, with all its protections extended to him. Upon the moment of our marriage, the contract with the other man will be null and void.”
“Then I accept. The proposal,” she said quickly, relief cascading over her in a breathless rush. “I’ll marry you. The sooner the better.”
Zayid leaned forward, eyes searching hers. “Are you quite sure? I wanted to allow you time to sleep on it.” Laila saw a crack of vulnerability move across his face, quicker than lightning. “Was it enough?” Zayid rubbed at his forehead with the pad of his thumb. “I spent all of last night evading proposals, so the sooner we make our decision, the better.”
She let out a laugh. “You know, if it weren’t for all these ancient laws, neither of us would be in this position.” She let herself sink back against the sofa. “Raihan has been a mountain of trouble since the moment I set foot here.” And I don’t know how to get out, a part of her howled. Laila jolted upright, realizing too late what she’d said. “Wait, I—I didn’t mean—”
Zayid came around the table with sure, long strides and she pulled back, bracing for anger. But instead he dropped onto the sofa next to her. “You’re right. If it weren’t for the laws, we wouldn’t be in this room together.” The low baritone of his voice wrapped around her and made her