He said nothing, concentrating on the road as they edged around the mountain face. He could have taken the new, modern tunnel that bisected the mountain entirely. But this was a new country for him and he enjoyed the scenic routes.
Olivia lay her head back on the seat, her voice low and utterly miserable. ‘How can a woman suddenly have a fiancé when she hasn’t heard or even decided to accept a marriage proposal?’
‘You mean...Khal didn’t formally propose? This is what’s upset you?’
‘No. He did not formally propose,’ she said, mocking laughter in her voice. ‘I only met the Sheikh yesterday for the first time—at the races. Five minutes after my father informed me that I would be marrying him.’
CHAPTER FOUR
ROMAN FELT HIS brain stumble over her words. ‘That is impossible.’
‘Welcome to my life.’ A deep sigh left her chest. ‘Apparently Monteverre has reverted to the Middle Ages.’
‘The Sheikh assured me that all the arrangements have been made. That he is simply here to make the formal announcement of your intended marriage.’
‘The only arrangement that has been made is a business one. Evidently the bride was not important enough to be let in on the plans.’
She laughed once—a low, hollow sound that made Roman’s gut clench.
‘I’m twenty-six years old and suddenly I’m expected to tie myself to a stranger for the rest of my life.’
A tense silence fell between them and Roman took a moment to process this new information. Khal had not been honest with him. And if there was one thing that Roman Lazarov despised it was being taken for a fool. Khal had said the Princess was his future bride, leaving him with the assumption that the woman had consented to the marriage. Now, knowing that she hadn’t...
Call him old-fashioned, but he believed a woman had a right to her own freedom, her own mind. Growing up on the streets, he had seen first-hand just what happened when men decided simply to assume a woman’s consent.
The Princess had called Khal a barbarian, but Roman knew that was the furthest thing from the truth. He wanted to believe that this was all a misunderstanding—that Khal had been misled by the King into believing his intended bride was a willing participant in all this. However...he knew the single-minded ruthlessness that possessed the Sheikh whenever his nation’s future lay in the balance.
He had said himself that this marriage was vital to Zayyar’s future. Perhaps it was vital enough to overlook a reluctant bride?
They rounded a particularly sharp bend and the road began to descend towards the lush green valley that spread out below. This country had its own particular charm—there was no denying it, he thought as he took in the glittering sea in the distance.
A small lay-by had been built into the outer curve of the road—a safe place for people to stop and take photographs while stretching their legs. Making a snap decision, Roman slowed down, manoeuvring the car into a vacant spot in the deserted lay-by and bringing them to a stop.
‘What are you doing?’ Olivia’s brows furrowed.
‘I need a moment,’ he said, taking the keys with him as he stood away from the car, just in case his passenger had any ideas. The lay-by was deserted, and the road far too steep for her to get anywhere on foot.
He braced his hands on the glittering granite wall and took a moment to inhale the fresh mountain air deeply. There was something about the sight of completely unspoiled nature that deeply affected him. He had spent far too much of his youth surrounded by concrete buildings and garbage-scented air.
The sea beckoned to him in the distance. His yacht was ready to leave the moment he returned—ready to sail out into the open sea, where he would be free of this troubled royal family and their tangled web.
All he had to do was drop her off at the palace and he was home free.
Why he was hesitating all of a sudden, he did not know, but something was stopping him from completing his directive without questioning it further. He heard the car’s passenger door close gently and turned to see the Princess come to a stop at the wall beside him.
‘This is my favourite view in all of Monteverre,’ she said. There was not a hint of sadness in her voice. It was just fact, stated without emotion.
He realised that since the moment he had held her captive in the tunnel he had not seen her resort to tears once. No one, including him, would have judged her for breaking down in the face of an unknown captor. She had a backbone of steel, and yet she had not been able to follow through with her plan to use the fraudulent passport. She clearly drew the line at breaking the law, and could not blur her own moral guidelines even in apparent desperation.
‘What exactly were you hoping to achieve by running?’ he asked, directing his question to the side of her face as she continued to stare out at the distance.
‘I don’t know.’ She nipped lightly at her bottom lip. ‘I just needed the chance to come to a decision myself. Some time to weigh up my options. I have no idea what life is like away from my guards and my responsibilities, and yet here I am, expected to blindly trade one set of palace walls for another.’
He couldn’t disagree with her logic.
‘When I agreed to perform the security operation yesterday, I presumed that your marriage had already been arranged.’ He ran a hand across his jaw, the memory of his handling of her raw and uncomfortable. ‘Had I known the situation was not what it seemed I would not have agreed to it.’
She shrugged, defeat evident in the downward slope of her slim shoulders.