Dark eyes smiled. “My whole life, save a short time in the US for university,” he said as he stepped from the stairwell back onto marble floors and opulence.
Owen grunted. “Can’t imagine growing up in a place like this.”
“Most cannot, and I try to remember that.”
They entered an elevator. “King Faruq said you were in the Army,” Rayan began as the doors closed. “Did you not like it? Is that why you are not a soldier now?”
Man, that failure-dagger still dug deep, didn’t it? “The Army didn’t like me,” he said as the box rose.
“You are quite curious, Mr. Apollo.”
“Not the first time I’ve been told that.”
The prince laughed and the elevator dinged. “A few ground rules about protecting Nouri, and I ask that you bear with us because of their strict nature, but it is for everyone’s safety.”
This would be interesting.
“First, neither you nor Nouri are to leave her chambers without permission of the king, Crown Prince Maaz, or myself. She is allowed in the south gardens from ten to eleven each morning, and only then. Meals are served at eight, twelve, and eight.” Then he seemed chagrined. “I do apologize, but there is no separate room for you.”
Owen faltered. “Come again?”
“As I said, with the wedding, all spare apartments are in use.”
All 250 rooms? Was he kidding?
“So, you will be confined to her chambers. It will be no different when you are on safari with her—you remain with her at all times.”
“Wait.” Owen stopped short. “Are you saying I’m to eat and sleep in her room? With her in there?”
Rayan angled back and considered him, dark features not missing a single blemish.
Am I being punked? “Are—are there two beds?”
“No,” Rayan said, mirth lifting his lips to the side. “You looked distressed.”
That’s a word for it.
“If you find this is unacceptable, I can return you to the cellars and notify the king.”
Holy fluff. “Unacceptable?” Owen balked, quickly understanding this was a no-win situation. Say he found it unacceptable and he was back in the dungeon. If he didn’t, though, they’d call his character into question—also put him back in said dungeon, right? He had to find ground that would appeal to those in this House. “It goes against Sharia law. The Central Kingdom follows that, yes? She—we—could be stoned. Killed for being alone together…” He stretched his jaw, staring at the man. The prince. “Is this girl I saved some kind of trouble or pariah? I mean, this sure sounds like someone is trying to set her up. Does the king want her gone?”
Which made no sense since they had kidnapped her from London.
“Why would he do that and hire you?”
Owen thought hard but came up with nothing. “Got me, but this…this is wrong a thousand ways from Sunday.”
“Would you prefer I return you to?—”
“No.” He lifted a staying hand. Guessed he’d figure out a workaround. He motioned the prince onward. “Take me to her.” When the prince resumed course, Owen had to force himself to follow. They made a couple of rights before they strode to the end of a narrow passage. The doors here came quicker, making him believe the rooms were smaller.
“Any house phone,” Rayan said, indicating to a small table along the balcony rail, “will let you reach me. Dial 766.”
“766,” Owen repeated, committing that to memory.
A guard stood outside a room and affected a curt bow to the prince.
“Khamil, the king relieves you of duty, which he transfers to Mr. Apollo.” He held out his hands. “The key to Nouri’s room, please?”
