Inherited For The Royal Bed. Annie West

an uncle,’ he added, as if to clarify.

      Lina blinked. Anyone less like an uncle she couldn’t imagine. He was far too young for a start. Closer to her age than her uncle’s. Besides, she couldn’t imagine what she felt for the Emir was at all appropriate between niece and uncle.

      ‘You understand?’

      Did he think her dim-witted because she couldn’t read the words in his precious books?

      ‘Yes.’ She clasped her hands before her. ‘You will act as my guardian.’

      ‘Precisely.’ He nodded, then sat back in his chair as if pleased that point was understood. ‘Now what would you like to do?’

      ‘Sir?’

      ‘What would you like for the future?’

      Lina tried not to gape and probably failed.

      No one ever, in her whole life, had asked what she wanted her future to be. It had always been assumed that her father would find her a suitable husband and she’d devote herself to looking after him and the family they’d have. Or, if her aunt were to be believed, she’d become a dancing girl or worse, pandering to the desires of men.

      The enormity of the question stole her voice.

      Eventually he spoke again. ‘You must have some desire. Some dream.’

      Suddenly Lina remembered those childish hopes she’d once harboured. Hopes encouraged by the foreign archaeologists who’d worked for years near her home. They’d been entertained in her house when she was young, and, to her delight, there had even been women archaeologists. Lina had spent years tagging along behind them, before she was considered too old for such freedoms.

      ‘Lina? What is it you want?’ That deep voice yanked her back to the present.

      The foolishness of those old hopes hit her anew. She could never do what she’d dreamed. And yet, here she was, sitting with the man who ruled Halarq, a man who’d brought peace to her nation, and he was asking her what she desired. Asking. Surely anything was possible here with this extraordinary man?

      ‘I want to learn,’ she said before she lost her nerve. ‘To read and go to classes and find out about the world.’ Her throat constricted at the daring of what she asked but she hurried on. ‘And I want to visit France and America.’

      There. It was out. Her breath came in rough little pants and her fingers trembled against the carved wooden arms of the chair. She knew she’d been too daring. But she’d been unable to resist.

      ‘Why those countries?’ Instead of berating her for not requesting something sensible, like an apprenticeship to a seamstress, the Emir leaned forward as if curious. ‘It would be hard when you don’t speak the language.’

      ‘But I do!’ She beamed at him. ‘At least I used to. I spent time with the foreigners digging up the past in the old city ruins beyond my town. I have a good memory and they said I’m quick with languages.’

      Clearly he wasn’t convinced. Yet nor did he dismiss her claim. Instead he sat in brooding silence, his elbows on the desk and fingers steepled beneath his chin.

      Lina barely dared to breathe for fear of disturbing him as time stretched from seconds into long minutes.

      ‘Very well.’ Finally he sat back. A smile skated across his face and Lina caught her breath. In repose his face was serious yet handsome. But when he smiled it felt like angels danced in her soul.

      ‘I won’t promise America or France, but I can give you the opportunity to learn.’ He paused as if considering. ‘My secretary will arrange a teacher. If, by the end of a week, that teacher confirms you’re working hard and willing to learn, you will have the opportunity to go to school.’

      Excitement was the buzz of a thousand bees in her bloodstream. ‘Sir, I can’t thank you enough. I—’

      His raised hand cut her off. His expression turned serious. ‘It’s inevitable that gossip will get out about how you came here and about our...relationship.’

      He said the word as if he tasted something unpleasant and instantly Lina’s warm glow subsided. ‘Given that, if you show promise, you will attend school outside Halarq.’

      Lina nodded, torn between delight and the need to pinch herself to check she was awake. ‘But won’t it be expensive?’

      Instantly his gaze, which had fixed on a spot in the middle distance, zeroed in on her. Once more Lina felt that keen scrutiny, as if he looked at her but saw more than anyone else ever had.

      ‘Fortunately I can afford it.’ A ghost of a smile hovered around his firm mouth. ‘If you work hard, I will sponsor your education.’

      ‘But how will I repay you?’ The words erupted before she could hold them back.

      The Emir’s eyebrows rose. In surprise because she continued to speak without being invited? Yet he didn’t seem angry. Was that approval in his gleaming eyes?

      ‘You cannot simply accept this gift?’

      Lina bit her lip, considering carefully. His Royal Highness the Emir of Halarq was a powerful man, accustomed to having his every word obeyed. Yet her conscience—or was it the pride her aunt complained of?—told her she had to set limits to this kindness.

      ‘I would be honoured, sir. Yet that same honour compels me to acknowledge my great obligation to you. It’s an obligation I must repay. We aren’t kin. I have no call on your charity.’

      Lina’s heart thudded in her chest, her pulse rushing so fast through her body she felt light-headed.

      For what seemed an age those piercing eyes, darker now and unreadable as polished obsidian, bored into her. Then, abruptly, he nodded.

      ‘So be it. If this turns out as I hope, you’ll be a shining example of change in Halarq. I intend to modernise our country through education, among other things. Work hard, learn, and on your return you can repay my generosity by helping to promote the value of education in those areas where people still refuse to send their daughters to school.’

      He glanced at his watch and shoved his chair back from the desk.

      Instantly Lina scrambled to her feet before sinking into a low bow, her heart swelling fit to burst. ‘I promise to study hard, sir.’ She’d make him proud, no matter what it took.

      ‘Excellent.’ With that he turned and strode from the room.

      * * *

      Four and a half years later Lina stepped off the plane a different woman.

      Which was apt since the country she returned to had changed too.

      The airport had expanded for a start, with a new streamlined terminal building and space for many more planes. The road into the city was a revelation—wide, straight and well-surfaced. It was even lined with rows of date palms and other trees.

      A new hospital sat in spacious landscaped grounds at a major road junction and a university was under construction nearby. Across the city cranes testified to a programme of renewal.

      The driver who’d met her kept up a flow of informative chatter in response to her queries. That marked a change too, for when she’d left Halarq she couldn’t imagine a male driver speaking more than was absolutely necessary to a woman. Though, to be fair, her experience was limited. She’d grown up in a rural province before her uncle had brought her to the capital. She’d rarely been in a car before she’d left her homeland. And this wasn’t an ordinary car but a limousine with the Emir’s crest on the door.

      Lina felt a rogue shiver of heat through her insides at the thought that he’d sent one of his drivers to collect her.

      Had he personally arranged it? Or had one of his staff done it without being asked?

      Did the Emir even remember her?