She had, somehow, survived through it and built a life for herself. She couldn’t risk all that again.
CHAPTER SEVEN
A WEEK LATER, Nikhat arrived at the breakfast hall in the morning, and came to a halt, her heart thudding.
Azeez and Ayaan stood on either side of the table, their hands fisted, their expressions similarly battling fury and more. Princess Zohra was standing by Ayaan’s side, her gaze flitting between the brothers.
A needle dropped into the room would have sounded like an explosion.
Nikhat’s gaze invariably went to Azeez. And first thing that came to her mind was how good he looked even as his face was currently wreathed in tension.
He wore a snowy-white cotton tunic that was open to his chest, the startling white of the fabric contrasting against his sunburned throat and face. His jaw shaved, the unhealthy pallor that had been there when she had first arrived was gone.
And his jet-black eyes had the biggest difference.
With each passing day, the arrogance, the confidence that had made him, came back.
Heat swamped her, but she couldn’t look away before stealing a look at that sensuous mouth. It had been just a kiss.
But it had started a fire in her that couldn’t be quenched, whatever she did. Not that there had been a hint of interest from him again.
His withdrawal was so absolute that there was no need for her to worry that she would weaken again. Not when he looked at her as if she was the plague he was determined to avoid. There were no more cutting remarks, no allusions to past or present, nothing but a polite, entirely painful, coldness.
Taking a deep breath, she looked around the room, the tension in it sinking heavily into her shoulders. “Is something wrong?”
Nerves at breaking point, Azeez turned toward Nikhat and was instantly assaulted by the taste of her mouth, her soft curves that had fit so perfectly against his. Desire slumbered in his blood, a constant companion that mocked him.
This seesaw of emotions every time he looked at her was the last thing he needed in his life right now. He had to get away from the palace, from her, from his brother. He had to do something useful or go crazy.
“I proposed a trip to the desert and my brother is threatening to lock me up and throw away the key.”
She paled, her angular features even more stark. Dark circles hung under her bright eyes. For once, he didn’t feel the sadistic pleasure that she wasn’t handling this any better than him. “Why?”
“Because, as you are well aware, I’m going mad sitting here doing nothing.”
“I have to run this country, Azeez. I don’t have time to come looking for you nor an answer for Mother if you disappear again. You can’t do this to her again.”
Azeez flinched, even as he deserved his words. How did he explain to his brother how useless he felt here, even as every single palace matter around him seeped into his blood? His mind, not drenched by alcohol, and his body making slow progress toward less pain, he needed to get out.
He chose his words carefully, the very idea that had come to him this morning filling him with renewed energy. But he didn’t want his brother to latch onto it and use it as weapon to bind Azeez to Dahaar permanently.
“Khaleef said there have been problems with communications to the Sheikh of Zuran.”
Just as he expected, a light came on in Ayaan’s eyes. “I think Khaleef needs a lesson in protocol, and a reminder about who the Crown Prince of Dahaar is now.”
“I’m still the bloody Prince of—” Azeez gripped the back of his chair, fighting the urge to knock off that knowing smile from his brother’s lips. A lifetime of duty and privilege in his blood was hard to get rid of. “Is it true or not?”
“Yes,” Ayaan said, moving to the window. “I persuaded the Sheikh Asad to sign a treaty four months ago, along with Zohra’s father, about better protection along the borders for all three nations. Now he’s not responding, nor is the High Council of Zuran.” Ayaan ran a hand along his nape. “I don’t like the silence on their side.”
“That’s why it’s imperative that I go.”
“I don’t understand.”
His brother had truly become everything he needed to be king. Azeez knew Ayaan was only acting ignorant to force him to put the proposal into words. But anything was better than being stuck here, visiting the past in a relentless loop. “I have contacts, Ayaan. How do you think I gathered the information that I fed you before you brought me here? I can have them dig out information on what’s going on in Zuran for you. Sheikh Asad was always a thorn in father’s side, too.”
The silence that met his statement was more deafening than an explosion. And it pulled his already stretched patience thin.