“Good copy. Give the princess a kiss for us, eh?”
He jerked the piece out and tucked it in his jean pocket for tomorrow. Ten minutes later, Leighton emerged, hair in a towel, and wearing pajama shorts and shirt. He nodded once she climbed back in bed. “I’m going to follow suit.”
Cleaned up and changed, he made himself bed down as if there were two, not one. As if this was normal. As if he didn’t think about kissing her more than once. But luckily, exhaustion was a powerful adversary, yanking him into the abyss of sleep.
They went into the next day with vigilance, determined to remain observant of the royals. Because of an unexpected summer storm, not many animals were out, almost making the day a wash since wildlife seemed unsettled by the change in atmosphere.
Owen had the same problem.
Rayan was an ever-present pest who insisted on being Leighton’s escort. Sitting with her at lunch. Then dinner. Each time treating Owen more like a servant who should walk two steps behind rather than someone charged with her protection.
And of course, Aliyah clung to him the same way the humidity plastered his shirt to him. It was both annoying and embarrassing. He felt a bit let down when nothing of note happened and they were suddenly on the plane, headed to the next location for the safari.
Masai Mara.
11
Masai Mara National Reserve, Kenya
It didn’t make sense. Prince Rayan was vigilant about staying with her, guiding her to this site and that outcropping, while fastened to her side. Notably, he’d done everything in his power to ensure Apollo kept his distance. Which she did not like. At all. When they’d boarded the private jet at Wilson Airport to fly to the Masai Mara National Reserve, Prince Rayan had instructed her to sit next to him, while Aliyah continued sequestering Apollo with herself two rows up, her incessant chatter like fingers on a chalkboard.
There was only one reason they were keeping her and Apollo separated—and it wasn’t about jealousy. It was about controlling her movement. Or more correctly—controlling her.
Unless…something had come to the royals’ attention. About Apollo. Or maybe her. What other explanation was there for separating and distracting them?
“I have spoken with Maaz,” Rayan said, his voice low as he leaned across the leather arm of his seat to edge closer.
Wary, she eyed him. What good could come of a chat with the ever-irritated crown prince? Especially in relation to her.
“Since you are a member of House Zahrani,” Rayan continued, “you will be moved to your own suite at the palace—one bigger than the small one you shared with the bodyguard.” He smiled as if he’d just handed her the entire world on a silver platter. “It is wonderful, is it not? You will be closer to me—to us, the family.”
Family? Was he out of his skull? There was no family here—not any she wanted to be a part of. But those dark eyes held her fast, and around the amber glints lurked a warning. Act grateful. It took everything in her to maintain a neutral façade. Prayed hard her expression wasn’t writhing in the disgust she felt at her core.
She should act surprised. “Uh…”
Brain, exit stage right.
Leighton had no idea what to say. No words to speak. What he suggested—having her own suite in the palace—should be a good thing. Yet it was such a small concession in a palace with hundreds of rooms. Why should it be earned or celebrated? Especially since she would still be a prisoner. Told when to come, when to go. That this even had to be discussed between two princes…
Say something before you give away your true feelings. “And you did this?” Hopefully that did not sound as much like an accusation to him as it did to her.
“Of course,” Rayan said, seemingly pleased she’d noticed. “I do not like the restricted privileges they have imposed on you. How are you to acclimate to this life if you are not given opportunities to do so? I have made him see this.”
Oh, good heavens. Was he serious? Acclimate? “You are too kind,” she made herself say, sure that’s what he’d intended—to do her a kindness—but being housed in the royal apartments would mean she’d be close to the royals, which meant it’d be easier for them to monitor and scrutinize her every move. To have their condemning gazes searing her every moment of the day.
No, thank you!
“Sadly,” Rayan said gently, “I could not dissuade him against a constant escort.” He exhaled as if it affected him. “Nor the lock and key.”
Leighton fought the urge to scoff. What good would it do to have her own room in the royal apartments if she were still locked up like a prisoner every time? This was not better or even more freedom. It was…the same prison, different wing. The only good thing that he had told about her future at Omnia Palace was the escort—Apollo. And that made her heart happy.
A burst of laughter from ahead drew their attention to Aliyah, who was leaning into Apollo’s personal space.
“Respect yourself, Aliyah!” Crown Prince Maaz snapped, his expression dark and forbidding as he then sneered at Owen. “An honorable man would not allow a woman to humiliate herself.”
Breath caught at the accusation against her protector, Leighton watched—as much as possible, considering she could only see his profile between the seats, but Owen merely looked out the portal-shaped window of the plane.
Oh, she hated that his character was being challenged. There was one of the best men—if not the best man—she had ever met. The truth of that shuddered through her. If he was the best man…why wasn’t she trusting him more?
