Free Heart of the Desert by Carol Marinelli Page A

not just with Jamal. Karim’s worried about the Bedouins, he’s speaking with his father to try and sort out what to do. I’ve felt guilty all dayfor leaving you and it
was
good of Ibrahim to take you under his wing. I’m just tired, overreacting.’
    ‘Go to bed,’ Georgie said. ‘You’ll be up for Azizah in a couple of hours.’ She saw Felicity’s face pale just at the thought of it. ‘Why don’t you let Rina get up to her tonight?’
    ‘Not you too!’ Felicity was close to tears. ‘I don’t want Rina.’
    ‘I can get up if you want,’ Georgie said. ‘You look exhausted.’
    ‘You don’t have to.’
    ‘I want to,’ Georgie said, and before Felicity could jump in, she did. ‘I know she’s to have your milk, but there’s a whole freezer full. I’ll take the intercom and you get some sleep and we’ll have a nice day tomorrow.’ She watched as Felicity nibbled on her lip. Clearly there were more duties she had to perform. ‘Or the next day. It’s not your fault the future king was born the day after I arrived.’
    ‘You do understand?’
    ‘I do,’ Georgie lied, because she couldn’t really believe everything her sister had married into. There were unspoken rules everywhere and no matter how she tried she seemed to put a foot wrong.
    As she walked back to her bedroom she saw him standing on the balcony, looking out to the desert he loathed. He didn’t turn round but she knew he had heard her because she saw his shoulders stiffen. She stood for a moment, wondering if he’d acknowledge her, wonderingwhat she’d do if he did, but Ibrahim just poured another drink and deliberately ignored her.
    ‘I can manage, thanks.’ Felicity smiled at the maid in her bedroom, who was there to help her undress, and she blew out a breath when finally she was alone.
    She should have said yes to him tonight.
    There were a thousand ways she could justify not doing so. As she pulled out her hair, she thought of a few—she was here for her sister after all, it would have been disrespectful to the king … Georgie slipped off her shoes, undid the buttons on her dress and then took off the horrible rouge and kohl, slathered on some face cream and rubbed more melissa on her temples, telling herself she’d done the right thing, but her heart wasn’t in it.
    After brushing her teeth, she rinsed her mouth then poured the water down the sink. She looked into the mirror and could justify no more.
    Taking the glass, she picked up the intercom and walked out through her suite and into the hallway to where he stood on the balcony. He didn’t turn to greet her and she hadn’t expected him to.
    ‘I’m sorry.’ But Ibrahim shook his head. ‘I’m trying to apologise.’
    ‘Well, you don’t have to.’ Finally he turned and filled her glass. ‘I should not have put you in that situation.’ The most difficult, complicated man she had ever met looked into her eyes and she wished that she could read what was in his. ‘You are not beholden to me.’ Alwayshe surprised her. ‘But, Georgie …’ he glanced down at the intercom ‘… neither are you to your sister.’
    ‘I’m just looking after my niece for the night.’
    ‘I’m not just talking about that—there is tension between the two of you.’
    ‘We love each other.’
    ‘I know you do,’ Ibrahim said. ‘But there is …’ He could not quite identify it. ‘You hold back and so does she.’
    ‘You’re wrong.’
    ‘Maybe,’ Ibrahim admitted. ‘But sometimes a row can be good. Sometimes the air needs to be cleared. You feel you are beholden?’ he asked. ‘That you owe something to her?’ And his voice for the first time ever was tender, and there was both guilt and relief as she nodded, being more honest with another person than she had been in her life. Georgie rarely cried, and only really for physical pain but she hadn’t fallen over in a long time. But just as he had at the nightclub, Ibrahim brought her near tears with just a few