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“Paparazzi are not journalists,” he shrugged, not wanting to stop arguing with her in case she removed her finger. The contact was fascinating, though he knew she had no intention of doing anything other than making a point.
“No, but they sell their photographs to reputable papers who don’t hesitate to print them. And often fabricate a story to explain them, with scant regard for how closely their words mimic –or don’t – the truth.” She shook her head, pointing her finger to his chest with renewed firmness. “And our laws do not only protect the royal family. No one can be photographed in their own home without their permission. People have a right to privacy. In restaurants, theaters, streets. It is not right that simply by being born into this family I am seen to sacrifice those personal rights.”
When he smiled, it dazzled Lilah and his eyes sparked directly with hers. She realised that she’d been leaning forward, touching him, speaking passionately. Such behavior was completely inappropriate. She pulled back sharply, putting some vital distance between them.
“I didn’t mean to speak so strongly,” she murmured, sipping her tea and averting her gaze.
“It’s not shameful to speak passionately about something that’s important to you.”
“No.” She swallowed. “Of course it isn’t. But I know you feel exactly as I do. So I don’t need to convince you, right?”
“Right.” His eyes bore into hers in a speculative way, as though he was trying to make sense of all the things she’d ever said to him. His attention was like the wattage of the sun, but it made her uncomfortable because he looked at her as no one else ever had.
Every fibre of her being was prickling with a wholly new kind of awareness. She felt that she could almost hear his breathing, and feel his heart beating, all from the intensity of how he stared at her.
“So level with me, now that we’re here in the wilderness with no one but the birds for company. This marriage of Kiral’s …”
Lilah straightened instantly. “Which you are determined to find fault with.”
He shrugged. “I guess it just seems like madness. They’re not in love.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because of how he speaks. It’s purely business.”
“You’re wrong.” Her cheeks flushed and at his look of sardonic disbelief she lifted a hand to his chest once more. “Not about the love, though if you repeat that I will deny it. Have you heard the story of The First Sheikh of Delani?”
Her hand was warm. He liked the way it felt on his chest. “No,” he lied, simply because he wanted to hear her repeat the famous myth.
“It is one of the most sacred texts of my people. It is long. But essentially, we believe inherently that the prosperity of Delani is intrinsically linked with the lineage of my family. When a King does not have a living heir, there is a growing sense of apprehension.”
“Even now, in the twenty first century?” He murmured, careful to flatten mockery from his tone.
“Oh, yes. Absolutely. My brother has delayed for years longer than, perhaps, he ought to have.”
“Why?” Will pushed, his journalist’s instincts sensing more to the situation than Lilah was explaining.
“Melania wanted to study at college. She is a very bright and driven woman. He felt it appropriate to wait.”
Will nodded, though he wasn’t sure he believed that to be a sufficient explanation. “And you?” He prompted, his eyes dropping to her lips. Hot need flashed through him, unmistakable and unwarranted.
“Me?” She repeated, pulling her hand away and placing it in her lap. She stared at it.
“Is there a similar pressure on you to marry? To produce a perfect little royal baby?”
He was fascinated at the expressions that chased across her face, visible even in profile. “Yes.” A succinct answer given the turmoil that he guessed she was feeling.
“And? Who’s the lucky man?” Desire was replaced by a slick welling of jealousy. It flared inside of him and he marveled at the emotion.
“No one, yet.” Her smile was lopsided. “There is not the pressure on me that there is on Ki. And he is several years my senior.” She shrugged. “Nonetheless, at some point …”
“At some point,” he nodded, wondering how he could be so invested in the future of a woman he barely knew.
“I …” Her tongue darted out as she licked her lower lip. “What’s it like outside?”
It was the clunkiest conversation change of her life. She could have winced at how juvenile it sounded. But he had the good grace not to roll his eyes.
“It’s beautiful. We’ll eat and then go for a walk, if you’d like. Find somewhere to resurrect the bird’s nest.”
