The following days Khalaf showed Olivia all over London. All the major sites, all the tourist sites, even went shopping in Harrods. When they weren't seeing the sights, they were watching movies in his bed. The one she shared every night sleeping in his arms since that first night.
They spend many hours in his bed. Tomorrow they were heading back, spending their last night in bed, food supplied as they snuggled together, enjoying a movie fest. Olivia curled into his side, his arm firmly around her, kissing leisurely as they shared strawberries and champagne. Lazily she ran a hand over his warm hard silky chest. "Thank you for today that was fun," she said between kisses. They had done the double-deck bus tour, on the open top level, much to Khalaf's disgust.
"My frozen b.." She kissed him, dropping her hand between his legs, warming him with a caressing hand. He moaned, reacting to his touch. "Actually I wasn't talking about them but that's fine," he sighed with pleasure.
"Oh," she shifted on top, placing both hands on his bottom and kneaded. "Better?"
"I prefer the other," he noted laughing, his hand caressed over the contour of her bottom as she kissed his neck.
"What are we watching now?"
He reached for the remote, switching off the television. "Nothing, I found something much more interesting to do."
She sighed. "So have I," she agreed then suddenly lift up her head, where he brushed back hair away from her face.
"Habibti, what is it?" he asked his hand stilling.
"I have really enjoyed the last few days, you know that, don't you?" he nodded though watchful. "It just," she ran her teeth over the bottom lip with guilt, "I hope I haven't interfered with your work. I know you have done all this for me but not at the cost of your people's needs or your own."
His eyes warmed and smiled, threading his hand through her hair, guiding her down to him and kissed. "Habibti, I made sure I had a clear schedule just to spend time with you."
"Oh," she melted, giving herself over to him, completely, wholly. This was their last night in London. Tomorrow they were heading back to his home and the palace. Olivia held him in her arms as he slept, cheek buried in her breasts, one arm above her head, the other holding her tightly as he slept.
She couldn't help reliving the last days from the dance on the balcony, their first time to the fun and laughter of their days. Dinner at the Savoy, very romantic, followed by a club, dancing to the night away. He had certainly swept her off her feet.
She never had that with him.
Finally realising, it would've never worked, yet they still had betrayed her that still hurt.
Now she had to face her future, whatever it was.
*****
Arriving back at the palace, Olivia found herself back in her suite of rooms, alone. Khalaf back to business. Hugging her arms, she wandered around, her belongings been unpacked, not sure where she stood, and what was going to happen. Was that it, what they shared in London? He said he couldn't give her forever. He did have a kingdom to run and who was she? Releasing a long breath, she settled into a divan, looking up as the doors opened and staff arrived with refreshments and food that set the pattern of the next few days.
Khalaf kept his distance.
It became a routine of waking, kept in her room, where she mainly wrote in her journey about her adventure in the desert and the trip to London. The sights she had seen, until now, where it had just stopped, slamming the journal shut. It was time she confronted Khalaf. This exile to her rooms was insane. Perhaps she could explore the palace that would be better than been stuck in here.
"Mistress?" Startled, she looked up at the entrance and found one of the guards. "His Highness has requested your appearance, you will follow me," he stated.
"Of course, back in a minute," collecting her belongings, she went to place them away in the writing desk and turned the key in the lock and pocketed the key. She looked down at her jeans and T-shirt she had been wearing, mainly to feel more like her old self. Quickly she changed into a flowing blue with gold embroidery edging kaftan that Khalaf had provided for her time, while she stayed his home. More fitting for the palace life.
She departed and joined the guard, where she was taken through the maze of corridors, finding herself at another set of carved large double doors to be knocked upon. The doors opened and she stepped in, where the doors closed behind her. Olivia entered further, stepping pass marble pillows of the grand entrance, with sweeping marble floors, into the main living room, stopping still at the sight of a big Arabian Leopard sprawled across the divan, its head lifting and eyed her closely with powerful stunning yellow eyes.
She swallowed hard. What? She was brought here to feed the cat that was looking at her as if she was its next meal. Rising with an elegant, long, powerful stretch, it leaped down silently like the big, deadly big cat that it was, and stalked towards Olivia, tail switching. "Kitty," a voice growled, startling Olivia, who looked up at the man who had entered from the bedroom dressed in western clothes, all in white. She pointed towards the cat that was still eyeing her off with interest.
"Your?"
"Yes, this is Kitty, she lives with me."
"Kitty?" Still, Olivia didn't move, keeping one eye on the cat at all times.
"Come here, Olivia, she won't hurt you," he promised. Warily she crossed over, keeping a close eye on the cat that kept looking at her with interest and followed. Olivia reached for Khalaf, where a safe arm went around her shoulder and was drawn towards his side as the cat leaned against him, purring. It really was a beautiful, striking cat, just a little bigger than she was used to. Kitty would eat her two cats in one bite. She looked up, finding Khalaf watching her instead. "I'm sorry I have left you alone so long, but I had a lot to arrange and catch up on."
She relaxed. Of course, he did and had to deal with the twins. How could she have forgotten the twins? She turned and stood in front of him, lifting her face as his dark head, lowered and slanted over her lips with his own, enjoying each other only, jerking when a tail swished against her leg. She clung to his shoulder.
"I think Kitty is put out," she whispered. Great, she had competition and one with claws.
"No, she only has to get used to your sent. Come," he took her hand and led her away after commanding the cat to stay that sat down, tail swishing, watching Olivia as they departed the room through another door on the side, closing the door behind into a private library/study.
Olivia paused to glance over the large portrait that dominated the library wall, fascinated. Firstly, it was a black and white picture. The setting was a part of his lifestyle, falcon on a stand, coffee server off to the right, a box set divan he was leaning against, one leg raised, holding a staff, robed and overcoat, headdress in place, bearded. A very handsome man. He had Khalaf's eyes.
Strong hands rested on her shoulder and leaned back without looking around, knowing who it was. His touch was so familiar to her, now. "Who is he?"
Khalaf arms folded around her shoulders, holding her against his frame. "My father, Omar."
"He is very handsome."
"Was," Khalaf corrected.
She nodded, cursing herself softly. "You take after him."
"I do?" he asked amused. "Do you find me very handsome, habibti?"
She laughed with delight. "You know I do. What happened, Khalaf?" She knew he lost his parents but he never talked about it.
"It happened a long time ago, habibti. Just an accident." She twisted in his arms, clasping at his shoulder from behind and hugged him, tightly. Olivia didn't know what she would do if is she lost her parents.
"How old were you when it happened?"
"Old enough to look after my family."
"A family, I guess, you have been looking after ever since."
"My duty."
"And run a country."
"Also my duty, habibti. What is this all about?" he asked caressing her back with his hands as her hold tightened around him wanting desperately to take some of his pain and duty away from him.
"I just can't help wondering who was there for you. Who did you have to rely on? Who did you have to talk to in times of hardship? One should never lose their parents at such a young age."
"One shouldn't worry about things that happened many years ago, habibti," he whispered, kissing the top of her head. "I had Kitty." The cat had saved his life in so many ways. Hurt and injured, he had been given a duty to look after her, ever since then had been inseparable.
"Kitty is a huge wild cat that would eat you alive if given half a chance," she noted still very aware of the huge cat that had freedom of his rooms. "Makes for a perfect guard cat," she noted dryly. He laughed with delight, tilting her chin back with a finger.
"Do not tell me you feel threatened by my cat?"
"Um, yes. Have you seen the size of that thing, and she keeps eyeing me off as I am her next meal. I have two cats called Sparkles and Sprinkles that would be an entree for that monster."
Khalaf nearly choked on laughter. "Sparkles and sprinkles?"
"Kitty?" she threw back at him. "Who calls their cat kitty?"
"I could ask the same question." He shook his head, muttering their names under his breath. "Sounds like some sort of biscuit or cupcake," he grumbled.
"That your cat would just gobble up in one bite." Khalaf chuckled, dipping his dark head, kissing her, long and slow. Olivia snuggled up against him, her hands pressed against his shirt. She missed being in his bed, missed falling asleep in his arms after been made love to by this man.
A sharp cough broke them apart. Khalaf swung around his features harsh at such an intrusion, while Olivia's cheeks burned, dropping her arms towards her side, hiding behind Khalaf back, trying to get her composure back.
"Aaron, what is the meaning of this?" Khalaf demanded his tone harsh, arms crossed. Olivia stepped closer to his back, also placed a hand on. She peeked around Khalaf at the distinguished younger man, standing in the doorway, fully robed, headdress free, showing his dark brown hair stylish cut, though not as tall as Khalaf.
However, there was no mistaking the resemblance. She was looking at his family, though different from the twins. The twins had softer more feminine features. Aaron was more angular like Khalaf but not as striking. Dark hard eyes rested on her briefly to dismiss.
"If you are finished, we have much to discuss before the dinner tonight."
"I will see you about that later," Khalaf dismissed with a wave of a hand. Aaron stood his ground, crossing his arms in waiting. Olivia looked from one to the other in a brotherly standoff. She pressed closer towards him, lightly caressing his back with her hand, drawing down his head as she raised on her toes and whispered in his ear.
"I can come back later," she offered.
"No, my brother is leaving," Khalaf noted stubbornly, glaring at his brother, who swung around and departed, slamming the door behind him.
Olivia sighed. "I wish you hadn't done that. He is family and I could've come back later," she pointed out, her hand falling away as he walked away.
"I will not be disrespected in my own home and by my own family. He had no right to talk to either of us like that." He raked a hand through his hair. "One of the reasons I wanted to see you before we were rudely interrupted....now what?" he growled at a knock on his door, storming over and throw open, revealing a tall, attractive, young woman dressed in black, wearing a light black scarf over her black hair. "Saarah, what is the meaning of this? First Aaron now you."
"Aaron said you had him dismissed like a staff member that is so unlike you," she said softly.
"Then he should not barge in here without knocking, should he? When had my family become so disrespectful?"
Saarah looked beyond him towards the redhead in the room, obviously embarrassed by her reddened cheeks. "Are you not going to introduce me to our guest, brother?" she asked softly. Sighing, Khalaf opened his arm in an invitation that was taken. "Saarah, this is Olivia Jones - Olivia my sister, Saarah. There satisfied, so you may leave now."
"Khalaf," Olivia gasped appalled, walking towards them, holding out her hand. "Nice to meet you Saarah, my brother works for Khalaf."
"Ah, of course, Jones, the Archaeologist," she stated though looked at Olivia with curiosity as in wondering what she was doing here. Good question.
"Yes, nice to meet you, and now if you excuse me, I will go back to my rooms." She nodded in respect and headed towards the door, only to be stopped by a hand on her arm and was guided to stand at Khalaf's side.
"No," he corrected. "My sister was. I will see you later, Saarah. I have discussions with Olivia that is our business, not others." Olivia moaned inwardly as dark brows arched.
"As you wish." Saarah started moving away in departing as requested, only to pause and smiled at Olivia, running shrewd eyes over her. "I'm sure we will meet again." With a nod, she left closing the door behind her in a quiet manner, not like her brother's slam.
Olivia let out a whoosh of air. "Just how many are there of you?"
"I told you five."
"Oh, that you did. So who haven't I met then?"
"Nadir, who will be arriving later. Come with me," he ordered, taking hold of her hand and led her back into his rooms. Locked the connecting door and continued towards the main bedroom, closing the door after leaving Kitty on guard watch. "No-one would dare interrupt us here," he said softly walking her backward, towards the bed, where they fell down upon and was taken into his arms and kissed. Nothing was discussed for a very long time.
Khalaf cradled her face in his hand, making her look at him. "That wasn't what I planned when I summoned you to my rooms."
"Did you hear me complaining, Khalaf," she smiled, covering his hand with hers, turning and kissed the palm of his hand.
He smiled. "I don't remember complaining in your voice, pleasure maybe," he teased to be giggled at, as she snuggled up against him, pressed against his naked body with her own, where he held her harder against him with his arms. "I was going to inform you there will be a diplomat dinner tonight and I expect you to be there. A dress is been flown in from Paris as we speak, probably already here." His hand trailed down her back over the contours of her bottom, where she wiggling under his touch, moaning as he went over her belly and up, cupping and fondling a breast, where she tilting her neck back and was kissed.
"Do you think that's wise, Khalaf," she asked softly. "Your family didn't seem that impressed with my presence."
"Tough. I want you there at my side," he growled, taking her lips with his, rolling her onto her back, where he once more took her on a ride of passion that always left her wanting more. Much more.
Once back in her kaftan and Khalaf changed into his robes, he walked her back towards her rooms and into the entrance, closing the door, taking her into his arms, and kissed. "My man will come for you at six-thirty and bring you to the dinner event. I will meet you there. I have to be there much earlier, ready to greet my guests," he explained.
"Khalaf if this is difficult for you, I don't have to go," she offered, not wanting him to suffer or be at odds with his family. His hold tightened and his gaze darkened.
"I told you I want you at my side," he repeated in a harsh tone, receiving a nod, though her eyes were wary. "Olivia," he moaned, covering her lips again. "Give it time precious, they'll come around," he promised. Reluctantly he departed, leaving her once more alone in her rooms to enter further, saddened.
It seemed they were only allowed stolen moments. How long was that going to last? She dreaded the answer, wandering into her bedroom, discovering the most beautiful dress spread across her bed. Spirits lifted, Olivia went and had a long, leisurely bath, adding oils and rose petals into the water, before lowering into the bubbling water of the spa bath, followed by a massage, when a masseur turned up. Then a beautician arrived, who got her ready for her first big diplomat dinner.
Right on six-thirty Khalaf's man arrived and was led her through the palace, towards another section, hearing din sounds of a large gathering. The whole area lit up like a Christmas tree and a long Persian long carpet rolled out along the long corridor, leading towards the main ballroom over the marble floors. She paused, and looked over the balcony towards the centre courtyard, below was a waterfall decorated in lights. She had never seen the likes of it before in her life.
Taking a deep breath, the doors were opened and she stepped in, taking it all in. Cinderella had entered the ball that was how she felt. Overwhelmed.
Khalaf couldn't keep his eyes off her, hovering near the door, hair in a French twist, held back with pearl and diamond pin with matching earrings, yet kept her neckline free. That was enhanced by the strapless heart-shaped cream ball gown, with an overlapped bodice that was heavily embroidered with silver, the full pleated skirt fell from underneath the bodice, flowing to the ground with a train. He had never seen such a sight. She took his breath away, closing the distance, and took hold of her hand and walked at his side as he guided her further inside the crowded ballroom.
"You are truly a vision of beauty, Olivia Jones."
Colour tinged her cheeks and lowered her eyes. "It is nice of you to say so, Khalaf, however, you did choose the dress," she reminded him, wishing they were alone. He stole her breath away by his royal grabs of a flowing white robe, covered with a golden edged brown Bisht, white keffiyeh held in place by a gold agal, revealing his royalty.
Once on the dance floor, Khalaf swept her up into his arms, and moved around the floor in a waltz, only having eyes for each other. How she longed to move closer and place her lips on his that teased her sight so full, rich, and inviting that had shown her so much pleasure. She missed been in his bed. Understood it, but she ached to be with him, dropping her gaze from his lips, towards his strong throat and was drawn closer to him as in a daze, mesmerised. "Olivia," he warned softly as her lips pressed against his pulsing pulse. "Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea," he mumbled as she edged back slightly, keeping her gaze lowered.
"I miss you," she whispered, explaining her outrageous behaviour.
"And you think I do not?"
Green eyes rose, meshing with hot smoldering dark ones. Her breath caught with his name on her lips. "Do you?" she had to ask. After all, he could replace her any time he wanted and with the most beautiful women in the world. She frowned, remembering, how she hadn't seen, any women in his life. He was only involved with his family, his country, and she was convenient. She stepped further back. "Sorry."
"I'll change that tonight," he promised. "Now you must behave yourself, habibti."
"I'll try if you stop looking so drop-dead gorgeous."
He laughed with delight. "You are such an honest little thing. I hope you do not say such things to other men."
"No, never," she gasped shocked. He did make her act and say the most outrageous things. Not once did she ever say anything like that to James. Come to think about it, she couldn't remember saying the word 'love' to him. She hadn't, had she? Dare she say such things to Khalaf, knowing she couldn't.
She would have to be contented to be in his arms like this, waltzing around in the grand ballroom, surrounded by diplomats from the world, and his family. His very disapproving family. Olivia could feel their eyes on her, always watching. Only Saarah had made an effort to welcome her, yet was also aloof.
She had better chances of making friends with Kitty, his oversized wild desert cat that prowled his rooms. 'To keep intruders out.' Khalaf had teased her as the cat sniffed her over, growling in her throat, tail swishing as they had departed earlier in the day back to her rooms.
"I'm not sure Kitty approves," she noted, dryly to herself.
"How did Kitty become involved?" Khalaf asked amused.
"I was just thinking of her. Will she ever approve of me?"
"She already has."
"The growling and swishing tail?"
"Then walked away instead of taking a bite out of you."
"What?" She stumbled in his arm, his hold tightened, holding her closer against him, steadied, and swirled around. "Does she do that often?"
"Just the ones she doesn't like," he noted amusedly.
"I bet you don't get many visitors."
"Just the way I like it, habibti, however, you are most welcome anytime, that's if Kitty is in the right frame of mind about letting you in."
"Well, she better," she growled deep in her throat. "I'll bite her instead or sic my kitties onto her."
"Ah, desserts after the main meal," he laughed to her disgust.
"Khalaf," she complained, swept off the dance floor. Where they mingled with the gathering of diplomats.
Always at his side for the rest of the night, she even sat at his side at the long dinner table that went the length of the room. Covered with pristine white linen tablecloths, silver service, down the middle there was a row of silver candle holders with red candles between low flower arrangements that decorated the table.
Olivia had never seen the likes of it before looking down at all the knives and forks used for different causes, knowing she had to go from the outside in. However, she always kept an eye on Khalaf, who rubbed a knife or fork or spoon with a finger, indicating which one to use. She could have kissed him, glancing across sideways, under her lashes, and gave him a special smile, just for him.
"So my dear what actually do you do?" the kind elderly lady, who was actually a lady, at her side asked.
Olivia smiled giving her, her attention. "Between jobs at the moment, Lady Susan. Khalaf has been kind enough to let me stay in his home for a while. I guess I would be heading home soon," she explained, feeling sad. There was no real reason to stay, was there? Though it didn't upset her as much as it had done, about going home. What faced her at home didn't matter that much anymore, however, she would prefer to stay here, like forever.
The gentleman on Lady Susan's other side drew her away, much to Olivia's relief and settled down just to eating, barely touching her food, losing the desire for any. Wanting the night to be over, so she could go back to her room and drown in her own feeling of sadness of leaving here that could be any day now. Khalaf covered her hand, squeezing, drawing her eyes, seeing his concern to smile, and squeezed his hand back, pulling out of her runt. She would enjoy this while it lasted.
After seeing his last guest off, Khalaf turned to Olivia. "You look exhausted, habibti. Go to bed." He ordered, pressing his lips into her forehead. "I will join you shortly," he whispered for her ears only.
She closed her eyes briefly then looked up at him. "As you wish." Her eyes shimmered, and then she was gone, gliding down the hallway, pausing at the end, and looked back over her shoulder with such longing in her eyes, a smile on her lips then disappeared. He swallowed hard and went to see about shutting down the palace then he was indeed going to bed.
"Khalaf we must talk," Aaron insisted when he joined his side.
"Surely such matters can wait until tomorrow brother." He was in no mood for another long bout with his brother, who was determined to challenge him at every corner.
"No, I don't think so," Aaron growled determined. Khalaf came to a standstill, staring at his brother.
"I would be very careful about what you say, my brother, because I will not tolerate interference with my private life."
"Even if it affects the future of our country or our people? Everyone noticed your attention towards this woman; surely it is unwise to be affiliated with such a woman of not our country."
Khalaf stood his full height glowering down at his brother, eyes deadly. "This is not open for discussion. You will show only respect towards Olivia Jones, at all times, or you will pay the penalty of such outrage, and dishonour, do I make myself clear?!"
Aaron lowered his head. "Of course, but at what price?" he dared then turned and left, leaving Khalaf shaken.
"He is right, you know that, Khalaf," a soft voice added. He turned towards find his sister, hovering in the distance.
"Not you too? Really all this fuss over nothing. Olivia is under my protection. Go to bed, Saarah," he dismissed with a wave of his hand, heading towards his office before the rest of the family decided to join in.
Angrily he slammed the door behind him, closing the world out, sinking into his armchair, pondering over matters. How could one slip of a girl cause such trouble? Maybe they were right. Then he remembered how she felt in his arms, being a part of her. How receptive she was towards him, only him. In her arms, he was a man, not a king, not a guardian over his siblings, just a man losing himself in such loving arms.
He had rights; he had needs that he had neglected for far so long. He shouldn't have neglected her either. Yet she made no demands on his time, or push him to spend time with her, while he had buried himself in his work, keeping it all at bay when they had come back from London.
He had been pushing her aside and that wasn't fair on either of them.
That was about to change.