“What do you mean she’s not here?” Rayyan’s steps halted, causing Gadi to almost crash into his back. But when he saw the sheikh’s glacial blue eyes turn his way, the assistant managed to twist his body sideways and barrel into one of the walls instead.

“Well?”

The sheikh’s impatient tone had Gadi hastily straightening up as he stammered, “She, ah, called to say she has to volunteer in one of the garden parties hosted by Sheikh Malik’s department.”

“And that’s today?”

“It’s a weekend affair, alshaykh.”

Rayyan frowned as he tried to recall which event Gadi was talking about. A charity function, one he had received an obligatory invitation to, as was required when any of his cousins had to host an event as part of their official duties.

Minutes later, and Gadi stood beside Salah next to the limousine while waiting for the sheikh to come out of the palace. All appointments of the day had been canceled while event organizers had been informed of Sheikh Rayyan’s imminent arrival.

“I told you so.” Gadi nudged his companion on the side with a smug smile. “You all thought he wouldn’t come after her, but I knew she was different.”

“Nem, nem.” The chauffeur’s tone was sarcastic. “You’ve been saying it over and over for the past five minutes. It’s unlikely I’d forget. But even so---” A stubborn look settled on the older man’s face. “I’m still not convinced the girl’s the one to bring him to heel.”

But she’s his future bride, Gadi wanted to protest. Who else could bring the sheikh to heel except the one he had sworn to marry?

Salah shook his head at the mutinous look on the young man’s face. “I know you think I’m being a cynic, fata. But I’m just being realistic. The girl’s too young for him. There’s every possibility she could be a mere passing fancy---” The chauffeur snapped his mouth shut when he saw their employer looming behind Gadi, and the younger man, seeing Salah’s eyes widen, gulped, knowing right away what it meant.

Allah save him!

What if the sheikh had heard them?

Rayyan raised a brow. “Well?”

With that one word, the two men hastily sprang into action, with Gadi bowing and apologizing profusely while Salah rushed to open the door for the sheikh.

Inside the car, both men were tense and silent, backs barely touching their seats, and their gazes directed straight ahead. At the back of the car, the sheikh’s face was similarly inscrutable, but behind the impassive mask was mounting frustration and discomfort. Just as the two suspected, Rayyan had heard every word his employees had spoken, and if either man had the balls to ask the sheikh what the girl meant to him –

He had no goddamn idea what to say, and that was the fucking truth.

Over a month had passed since the last time they had seen each other. A bank visit, and she had looked particularly lovely that day – her hair had these large curls at the tips that almost seemed too sinful because they made a man want to thread his fingers through it….

Funny how easily he could recall such things about a girl who, for all intents and purposes, should be a passing fancy to him.

But was that really all she was?

Since that day, the distance between them had appeared to grow overnight. The things she usually said as a muttered aside had completely stopped, and she didn’t even look at him in the eye every time he addressed her.

Nem, alshaykh. La, alshaykh.

That was all she said in his presence, and that was only in the rare times he had caught her in the office. The weekly reports Gadi sent him about her performance revealed Hyacinth volunteering to do fieldwork.

Anything to avoid seeing him, he thought broodingly.

And if he were being rational about this, he should simply let things continue as they were. All this had started as a whim. A twist of fate even, considering the colossal size of the palace’s maze of tunnels. And yet, somehow, both of them happened upon each other within its secret walls.

Majestic colors of the kingdom’s famous desert landscape streamed past the windows as the limousine continued in its journey, but Rayyan remained completely blind to it, his thoughts unwillingly bound to a seventeen-year-old girl.

Let this go.

That was what logic dictated.

And yet, the words of command to have his chauffeur drive him back to the palace refused to leave Rayyan’s lips.

If he hadn’t known of Hyacinth’s absence from work, perhaps he could have remained in denial. Perhaps. But now that he knew, the truth had become irrefutable, and it forced him to acknowledge what he had been doing his best to deny.

He…missed her.

Rayyan closed his eyes.

He…missed her, and that was not fucking good.

He missed her, and he was afraid that if Hyacinth knew, she would read something into what could never be.

Event officials were on hand when Rayyan arrived at the venue, a vast landscaped rock garden at the back of Ramil’s largest art museum. Photos were taken, a short interview took place, and an hour overall had passed by the time the sheikh was free from his official duties.

And now, he could concentrate on the one person who had made him act out of character and cancel all sixteen appointments he had scheduled for the day.

His gaze swept the crowd, the sheikh absently noting how most of the men in the party were staring at one of the female guests, sitting alone at one of the cocktail tables by the fountain. She had her back to him, but something about her was strangely familiar.

A waiter came to her table, and when she lifted her head to speak to him, that was when he realized who she was.

Mrs. Bauer stiffened when the sheikh suddenly appeared in front of her. “May I?”

“Of course, Your Highness.” Propriety forced her to say the words, but she couldn’t stop her lips from tightening as she watched him fold his imposing length in one fluid motion. “It’s a surprise---”

“Don’t bother with the pleasantries,” Rayyan said under his breath. “I should’ve known you’d be behind this.” The one thing about this whole mess that he hadn’t been able to understand was Hyacinth’s uncharacteristic neglect of her responsibilities. All their differences aside, it had been unlike Hyacinth to deliberately miss a day’s work, and Rayyan couldn’t see Anisah – who was affiliated with Sheikh Malik’s department – asking her sister to do so either.

“Everything was aboveboard, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Mrs. Bauer defended. “I submitted a letter of request for Hyacinth’s involvement to your H.R. manager---”

“Kafia.” Enough. “All I want to know is why. It is not like you to get so involved---”

“Because I don’t want to see her hurt,” Mrs. Bauer said fiercely.

“What makes you think she will be?”

She stared at the sheikh in blatant disbelief. “Jemima Black.”

The sheikh inhaled sharply as everything in the past became devastatingly clear in an instant. “You had no right---”

“She’s my---”

“Favorite student, I know.” His voice was harsh. “But she’s my woman.” There was no taking the words back the moment they were said, and the sheikh’s jaw tightened as he watched Hyacinth’s homeroom teacher whiten.

“Are you saying it’s real?” she asked stiltedly.

“I haven’t seen Jemima since---” Hyacinth started working for him. But the sheikh caught himself in time, saying instead, “We started going out.”

“I’m so sorry.” Mrs. Bauer was unable to meet the sheikh’s gaze as she made her apologies in a faint, shaken voice. “It will never…I…I won’t i-interfere again. I p-promise.” Her eyes closed for a moment, her humiliation as unbearable as a fresh raw wound, and when she found the courage to open her eyes again, the sheikh was long gone.

He found her at a secluded part of the garden, cornered by a boy her age. He was handsome and presentable enough, someone from a good family no doubt, to be invited to this kind of event. But the sheikh also knew that the boy wouldn’t ever be a match for him, not even if the lad was given a million years to catch up.

Hyacinth was dressed in a plum-colored abaya, its modern design transforming the traditional robe into a fashionable cover-up in chiffon. Underneath the robe, the girl wore a plain black dress, loose enough to still pass as conservative, but at the same time tight enough to faithfully follow her slender curves.

All in all, a pretty dress to make a pretty woman even prettier, and judging by the look on the boy’s face, it certainly did its job in impressing the other sex. As for Hyacinth, her eyes had a similarly glazed look to them, but for a far different reason.

It would serve her right, the sheikh thought, if he let her die of boredom.

Ten minutes later, Hyacinth heard someone politely clearing his throat from behind, and upon turning around, she was startled to find Gadi standing a foot away. “G-Gadi?” Her heart leapt despite her mind’s command to stay calm. Where he was, Gadi was rarely far away from –

But there were exceptions, too, she told herself firmly, so don’t get your hopes up.

“Khalis aietidhar, anisdi, insan.” My sincere apologies, milady, milord. “But His Highness, Sheikh Rayyan Al-Atassi---”

The boy’s face lit up. “He’s here?”

“Nem, insan.” Yes, milord. “Begging pardon for the intrusion, but the sheikh requests a word with the lady---”

Seeing Omar’s confusion, Hyacinth explained hastily, “I’m an intern at the finance department.”

Omar was quick to give way after that, and Gadi was soon escorting Hyacinth to one of the temporary cabanas that had been set up for the function. A pair of attendants pulled the drapes back to let Hyacinth in, but as soon as she was inside, the drapes were allowed to fall back in place.

And just like that, she thought, she was alone with the man she had done her best to avoid.

Hyacinth didn’t allow herself to look away like a coward as she watched the sheikh approach her, his movements reminding her of the sleek, prowling grace of a predator.

Her throat tightened as he came closer and closer, and unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing her tongue-tied, she forced herself to speak. “Marhava, alshaykh.” Hello, sheikh.

“Marhava, anisdi.” Hello, milady. The sheikh’s tone was polite, his gaze contemplative. It was easy enough for him to see past her mask of casual indifference – and what he saw, he didn’t like.

“Did you miss me?” she asked lightly.

“I did wonder why you missed work, yes.” He inclined his head towards the doors. “I also saw you with that boy.”

“Did you?” Still that same fake light tone, and the sheikh’s dislike grew. A teasing smile played over her lips. “Jealous?”

“Maybe.”

Hyacinth stopped smiling. “Don’t do that.” And this time, her voice was dead serious. “We both know you’re not.” And hurt. So much hurt.

Rayyan’s lips tightened. For a supposedly smart girl, she certainly wasn’t acting like it. Because if she were smart, she would never have let herself get hurt like this over a bastard like him.

Hyacinth waited for the sheikh to say something else, but all he did was stare at her with those damnably beautiful blue eyes of his. It was almost – it was almost as if he knew.

And as soon as the thought entered her head, Hyacinth realized that was exactly what this was.

“You know.” Her voice was tight. “Don’t you?”

“Nem.” The sheikh saw no point wasting time on denials and clarifications. “And I got rid of her as soon as I knew---”

“That I had found out about your mistress?”

“If it means anything,” he said evenly, “I haven’t paid her a single visit since you started working for me.”

“No.” Hyacinth fought hard to keep the walls around her heart from crumbling. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

Silence.

“I mean it, damn you.”

“No.” The sheikh’s tone was gentle. “We both wish you did, but you don’t.”

“God.” Hyacinth’s chest squeezed hard at the effort to keep her heart protected. “I really hate you.” And because the sheikh was a gentleman, he answered only with silence, he always did when any word would simply rub salt into the wound.

“Did you…” She swallowed hard. “Did you really get rid of her?” And by the time she finished speaking, her hands were covering her entire face. It was almost as if she was preparing herself for the inevitable.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I realized she was hurting you.”

And the inevitable was the tears.

Shit.

Starting out like a soft, barely-felt sting –

Shit.

Gradually shining, crystallizing –

Shit.

Until they flowed down, liquid pain wetting her cheeks –

The sheikh slowly pulled her hands down, and the tears fell faster.

“I didn’t want this to happen,” she gritted out.

“I know.”

“I don’t even know how it happened.”

“No one does.”

“It just did.”

“I know.”

And he slowly pulled her into his arms.