Prologue
Past
Under the orange light that precedes dusk across the sky of Sintarah[1], I watch my favorite falcon perched on the windowsill of my palace.
Falconry[2] is tradition in our family, and one of my passions.
Blue-hued beak, gray plumage, and sharp claws, his aristocratic profile looks absolutely serene, oblivious to what my advisor has just revealed.
“Are you certain, Adil?”
“Yes, Your Excellency,” he says but breaks eye contact when I glare at him. “I mean, Kamal, I’m certain. I would never have given you such news if I had any doubts. What should I do?”
I feel my jaw clench, but I don’t allow myself to engage in the emotional aspect of the situation. I have to be practical. My personal life must come after the greater good, which is the future of my Emirate.
“We must proceed as we normally would. The burial will have all the honors,” I say.
He stays silent, and I know what he’s thinking. Besides being my advisor, Adil is my childhood friend first. We can communicate without the need for words.
“You’re right,” he says finally. “There’s not much more we can do, but next time—”
“It won’t happen anytime soon,” I say, cutting him off. “Until I know I can get through this day without ripping someone’s head off, I don’t want to hear about it.”
Chapter 1
London
Five years later
“So, just like that, you’re telling me it’s over?” Danna Spencer-Harris asks again. “We had plans, Kamal. I wanted you to go to the Oscars with me. I got a special invitation.”
I look at the woman I’ve been with for the last month. I could stop her and tell her to leave. It’s what Iwantto do, but there’s no point in making this situation any more depressing than it already is, so I allow her to let off steam as I sit on the edge of my desk with my hands in my pockets to quell this unwanted encounter.
I thought I had been clear on the phone call we had yesterday. Apparently, I was wrong.
It was fun hanging out with her at first. Danna seemed like an easy-going woman willing to accept what I had to offer: thirty days of pleasure, agreed upon verbally under stipulatedrules. I learned that, after that period, my partners start building expectations, so the thirty-day deadline is irrevocable.
I make everything clear from the very beginning. The problem is that, even if they agree with me, they always think they will change my mind.
I’m a workaholic—not only as the head of state in my Emirate, but in my companies as well. In the little spare time I have, all I want from the women I share a bed with is physical gratification.
Danna is the daughter of an English duke and an aspiring actress. She claimed to be an independent woman when we first met, saying marriage was not in her plans. However, that speech lasted until our third week together. The closer we got to the end, the more desperate she seemed to be to convince me that we were meant for each other.
She crosses and uncrosses her legs, giving me a nice view of her lingerie, which, I must admit, is a weakness of mine. Seeing the woman I want covered in silk and lace makes me feel like I’m unwrapping a delicious gift.
That’s not the case now.
Danna and I have nothing in common other than being sexually compatible. And if I’m being honest, I’ve been wishing for the last few days that time would go by faster. The novelty, as well as my desire for her, is gone.
“Aren’t you going to say anything, Kamal?”
I stand up and close the distance between us, just so she doesn’t have any doubts that what I’m about to say is serious. “You knew what the deal was.”
“Yes, of course,” she says, giving me a lopsided smile. When I first met her, I thought that was a mysterious smile. Now it just looks artificial and pretentious. “But agreements can be broken.”
“Not for me. I don’t go back on my word.”
“The media is already speculating about both of us. They’re talking about a serious relationship, and my father has started having expectations.”
