“That was very nice,” Jamal said as he folded his napkin and tossed it on the glass-topped table.
Heidi set down her fork, hoping he didn’t notice how little she’d eaten during the meal. This was her second “date” with Jamal, and she’d been a little disappointed when this time he’d actually wanted to eat lunch. To be honest, she’d been hoping for a repeat performance of the hot kissing they’d done last time. The anticipation of his mouth on hers, his tongue and his hands had made her so shivery and nervous that she’d barely been able to eat three bites of her salad.
Now she sat across from him and pleated her linen napkin between her fingers. She shifted in her seat and started to cross her legs, then remembered that her skirt was too tight to allow much freedom of movement. While she could technically hike it up and cross her legs, that would mean exposing skin all the way to her panties, and what with their tabletop being glass and all, that didn’t seem like a wise idea.
But Jamal didn’t seem to notice that her push-up bra and low-cut blouse combined to show more cle**age than should be allowed by law. Or that her skirt was more Band-Aid than fashion item. The good news was she was finally getting better with her high heels. So far she’d only stumbled twice.
Jamal leaned toward her. “As I was saying, I did study as well. It wasn’t all good times.”
They were talking about Jamal’s years at university in England. She shook her head. “Sounds to me as if you had much more fun than I did when I was in college. Some of the girls were wild, but I ran around with a fairly studious group. I can’t tell you how many Friday nights I spent studying.”
Jamal stared at her, then grinned. “Oh, I get it. You’re teasing me. I can’t see you spending any night at home.”
She opened her mouth to tell him he was crazy, then clamped it shut as her brain started functioning again. Talk about messing up. She was Honey Martin, femme fatale and all-round bad girl, not her innocent self!
“You caught me,” she said with a quick laugh. “Okay, yes, I was out until all hours. I’m amazed I even graduated.” She offered an insincere smile and hoped he would believe her. Then she decided she’d better change the subject before he asked something tough, like her major.
“So did all your brothers go away to college?” she asked. “I mean, you do have brothers, don’t you?”
“Of course.Two. And yes, we were all educated in different parts of the world, followed by university in England. While there are excellent schools here in El Bahar, my father was concerned about exposing us to other ways of doing things. El Bahar is a successful blend of East and West, old and new. He has created that balance and works very hard to keep it in place.”
She had to bite back her “I know” and quickly replace it with “He sounds wonderful. I would imagine it’s very difficult for a son to follow his father and be king.”
“It is,” he said, reaching out and taking her hand in his. “I wouldn’t want Malik’s responsibilities for any amount of money.”
She had trouble concentrating on the conversation, mostly because of the fact that his fingers felt so strong and warm as they held her own. Plus, he’d angled his chair toward her, as if he wanted to focus all his attention on just her.
“Ah, Malik is the crown prince, right?”
He nodded. “As the oldest, he’s had to learn about all areas of government. But it doesn’t stop with El Bahar. Malik will have to take our country forward in a time where everything is changing. Our father has done much to prepare him—soon it will be up to Malik alone.”
Heidi had never much thought about what it must be like to be the heir to an entire country. She was grateful that Jamal’s responsibilities weren’t as great. He was in charge of the financial state of the family and worked with the economic council to form and maintain El Bahar’s economic policy. That seemed like more than enough for any man.
Jamal stroked his thumb against the back of her hand. “Father was always much tougher on Malik than on the rest of us. Khalil and I were allowed to skip lessons from time to time so we could ride or play, but not Malik. He had to attend long, boring meetings, even when he was little.” Jamal stared off in the distance.
“He was not allowed to show any weakness,” he continued. “No matter what happened, Malik was expected to be strong.”
Jamal seemed plenty macho to her, Heidi thought. She could only imagine what Malik was like in private.
“Where was your mother in all this?” she asked without thinking then wanted to call the question back. She didn’t know anything about the king’s late wife, except that no one ever spoke of her. Even her grandfather had been strangely silent on the topic.
“Sorry,” she said quickly. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”
“There’s not much to say,” Jamal told her. “She died about a year after Khalil was born. I don’t remember her at all. Malik might because he’s the oldest.” He paused as he thought. “What I do remember is my father being lectured by an assortment of government officials, each of whom wanted him to remarry. He always refused. He said that he had loved one great woman, and he was unlikely to find another similar. Because he didn’t want to subject a second wife to constant comparisons in which she would surely fall short, he chose to remain a widower.”
Jamal gave her a slight smile. “As he had three healthy sons already, there wasn’t much they could say in the way of argument with him.”