8
Jeddah, Saudi Arabia
Something had shifted between her handing him the plate of tomato-y snotty eggs and this instant. He didn’t know what, but her entire posture and demeanor shrank from him. It had gotten worse when he’d talked about the safari—the route he’d hoped to take advantage of to effect an escape. But he couldn’t tell her that. Not yet. She was too determined that he not do anything on her behalf.
“Look, before you put gray hairs in that head of yours, let me verify the safari is even happening. Rayan told me how to reach him.” He grabbed the phone before she could object, because he needed to know too. He dialed 766, then hit speaker.
“Sabah al-khayr,” spoke the prince.
Owen stared at the phone, dumbfounded. Arabic?
“He said ‘good morning,’” Leighton whispered from beside him.
“Good morning, Prince Rayan. This is Apollo.”
“Mr. Apollo,” the prince said evenly. “ I heard about your unfortunate incident.”
“Yeah, fun in reverse,” Owen said, not really interested in rehashing all that. “Listen, I wanted to verify something you told me.”
“Of course. How can I help?”
This guy was entirely too nice. “Seems there’s a bit of confusion about whether the safari is happening or not.”
“The flight departs tomorrow morning at six.”
“And…Nouri is going?”
“You will both be on the jet.”
Leighton arched her eyebrow.
“Good to know.”
“Please be ready for pickup at five a.m. ”
“Are we supposed to pack? How long is the?—”
“Fourteen days. All will be provided.”
“Understood. Thank you.”
Leighton turned away and wore a track in the floor as she chewed that thumbnail again, worry plain on her face.
Owen sensed she wanted to talk without extra ears listening. And look at the time… “Ready for the garden?”
She whirled. “Yes!”
This time, they didn’t get lost on the way down.
By the time they reached the far wall, Leighton looked ready to combust. “I don’t get it,” she snapped, walking the length of the path that ran parallel to the brick wall. “Why are they taking me? Do they want me to have some terrible accident?”
“But you said they wanted to get your mom here—that can’t happen if they off you.”
“Wow, don’t spare my feelings.”
“I only?—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she growled. “I know they aren’t being nice to me—we’ve both seen that in this family, the kindness gene is missing.”
