“Yes. You love your son, and you want what’s best for him. I’m only a distraction, and if he marries that lady and the others, it’ll be good for his kingdom,” Izzy said. She cleared her throat—twice—to keep talking. “I want what’s best for him too.”
“And what is that, in your opinion?”
“Whatever he wants. I’m not here to cause any harm, Queen Kesia. You shouldn’t worry about me.”
“I thought so too. But last night, after you left, Nassor was really mad at me. Like hurting you hurt him. He still hasn’t talked to me, and knowing him, I don’t think he will for a while.”
“I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked for the sake of asking, doubting Nassor would be the kind of man easy to sway.
“No.” Kesia sighed. “There is, though, something I can do.”
Izzy drew a long breath, contracting her stomach so much it gave a small cramp. This was it. Just like in the movies, Kesia would make an offer or a threat. Maybe she’d already snooped and discovered Izzy had been adopted from an international orphanage, someone without a traditional family. A lost soul alone in the world.
“I can get to know you better,” Kesia said, with a small smile. “If my son is so smitten by you, I need to know why. I’m not going to jeopardize my relationship with him because we try different approaches to reach the same goal.”
Izzy swallowed, processing what she just heard. Nassor’s mom wanted to get to know her? She loosened her shoulders for a moment, then a lump of apprehension formed in her throat.
She looked at Kesia square in the eye. “I appreciate the offer. You’re being generous. I have to say, though, you might want to buckle up, because I’m not like any of the fine bachelorettes you want to set him up with. I had a bad childhood, and I’m not perfect.”
Kesia nodded, a warm glow gleaming in her eyes. “Neither am I. Let’s talk and get to know each other a bit better.”
Chapter Twelve
“Former adviser Rasheed is here, Your Highness,” Guban warned through the intercom.
“Let him in,” Nassor said.
Ever since he’d fired Rasheed for indecent use of the castle accommodations, he hadn’t heard from the disgruntled former adviser. Of course, some of the other ones he’d fired got pissed as well, but they should’ve known change was afoot. And a day earlier, Rasheed had called, demanding a quick meeting with him.
Nassor could have refused, but dealing with these matters head-on was better. The man probably wanted to discuss his severance package or have access to his former office to retrieve a personal item that he’d left behind and the staff failed to deliver. A housekeeping problem, sure, but better to deal with it than ignore it altogether.
Within seconds, Rasheed walked through the door and quietly closed it behind him. The smirk on his lips and the casual stroll he took to the chair didn’t speak of desperation or disgruntlement.
“Your Majesty.” He bowed.
“Rasheed. How can I help you?”
“It’s how I can help you, my king,” he said, and a dark emotion flashed in his eyes.
Oh, great. Another one of those conversations. Nassor leaned in his chair, giving him a once-over. “Shoot.”
“I know how you met the American woman who’s been your personal guest for longer than I care to count.”
Nassor’s blood froze. Every muscle in his body stiffened for an instant, but he willed himself to hide the emotion. “Continue. I’m sure you’ve researched this little charade a few times,” he said, his voice clipped.
Rasheed drummed his fingers on the desk, a triumphant smile dancing on his lips. “Isn’t life ironic? You kicked me out of my job, stripped me of my privileges, because I had a little bit of fun with prostitutes in the castle. When, really, you, the elected king, is parading your whore—”
Nassor launched at him over the desk and pulled him by his collar. His own heart beat its way out of his chest. “If you use that or any other demeaning term toward my woman, I’ll break your nose. If you continue, I’ll break your neck.”
Rasheed coughed, moving his hands in surrender but not daring to touch the king. Besides being much taller than Rasheed, Nassor also had a stronger frame. He could smoke him in a matter of minutes—and he would, if he continued this nonsense. Izzy was nothing like the unfortunate women who slept with Rasheed in exchange for drug money.
“Tell me you understand,” he said between his teeth.
Rasheed nodded quickly, and Nassor loosened the hold of his collar then pushed him back into his seat. Rasheed rubbed his neck, moving his head from side to side. “I understand how passionate you are about this woman, Your Majesty, but as much as you want to strangle me, that won’t change the truth. You met her at a virgin auction.”
“That doesn’t concern you.”
“Doesn’t it? Isn’t that hypocritical since apparently what I do does? I wonder what the public would think?”
