‘The truth is that as soon as I was informed of the leak I wanted to believe that you were responsible. I pushed aside any other possibility because I’d trusted you with information that I hadn’t shared with anyone else. Not even my brothers, for fear my plans wouldn’t proceed as I’d wanted.’
‘How did you find out?’
Sharif sighed again. ‘I think I always knew in my heart. But it was Callaghan who told me that it was one of my own aides. The man hacked into my safe and copied the documents. News of what I planned was too incendiary to make him resist leaking. He went to Callaghan, my brothers, the board, hoping that by doing so he’d stop the company from breaking up and save his own job in the process, or get promoted to a better position by one of my brothers, in return for the information.’
‘How did your brothers react?’
Sharif emitted a caustic laugh. ‘How do you think? They were livid. Exactly as you said. But, worse than that, they were hurt. I betrayed their trust badly. And yours. But now we’ve reached an agreement, and hopefully a solution. We’re not dismantling the Marchetti Group. It’s going to be rebranded The House of Noor—named after my mother. Dismantling everything my father had built up was always the focus of my revenge. I never really considered the legacy we’d built—me and my brothers—since he died. I was too blinkered. But you helped me start to see things differently. I had to acknowledge that my relationship with my brothers had changed. I didn’t want to admit that, though, because I didn’t want to admit that I cared about them as much as I did. I’m taking my mother’s name too—officially. I’ll be known by my Al-Murja title from now on. I’ve left it up to my brothers to decide if they want to hang on to the Marchetti name or not. Maks doesn’t care too much. But I know Nikos will probably change his name too.’
A lump formed in Liyah’s throat. She hated it that she cared about the fact that he’d managed to fix things with his family. And that he’d managed to honour his mother in such a profound way, by taking her name for himself and the company.
She finally looked at him. ‘Why did you blame me if you had a shred of doubt?’
Sharif came and sat down on the other chair. He leant forward, hands linked loosely between his thighs. Liyah averted her gaze, but that was just as bad because she couldn’t look away from his eyes.
‘Because I realised how close you’d got. How much I’d instinctively trusted you. When I never trusted anyone in my whole life before. Yet within a month of meeting you I’m telling you my innermost secrets and sharing my life with you in a way that crept up on me.’
‘I am your wife,’ Liyah pointed out with an astringent tone. ‘There’s a certain amount of trust and cohabitation expected.’
Sharif stood up. Paced back and forth. When he spoke he sounded frustrated. ‘I know that. But in my arrogance I believed I could marry someone—anyone—and not have them impact my life in any meaningful way except for the way I dictated.’ He faced her. ‘But then you came along and blew it all up. From that night at the oasis, nothing was the same again.’
And clearly, Liyah thought, not much had changed. He might have realised she was innocent of his accusations, but he still blamed her for upsetting his life.
Liyah stood up too. ‘Look...thank you for your apology. You didn’t have to go to all this trouble. I know that it’s still over.’
Sharif looked at her. ‘Over?’
‘The marriage.’
Sharif shook his head. ‘That’s not why I brought you all the way here.’
Liyah’s silly heart skipped a beat. ‘Then...why?’
He took her hand. ‘I want to show you something.’
He tugged her after him and, feeling bemused, she followed. He led her back out to the main courtyard and then around to the side, to the back of the complex. It was huge. With lush greenery blooming from every point. Liyah itched to explore, even amidst the turmoil in her gut.
‘What do you think of this place?’ Sharif asked.
‘It’s beautiful. Stunning.’ It was like the dream she’d always had of a desert home. Not that she was going to admit that to Sharif...
She could see now that he was leading her to an area of stables and courtyards. More staff milled around. They addressed Sharif as Sheikh—Liyah had almost forgotten he was royalty too.
She heard a familiar whinny and stopped. It came again. Half to herself, she said, ‘It can’t be...’
She let go of Sharif’s hand and followed the sound to see her beloved stallion’s head poking out over a half-door. She went over, disbelieving until the moment she smelled him, and then she put her hand on his face and felt him nuzzle into her palm, looking for the apple she always brought.
She’d ridden him out from the Taraq palace only two days ago. She saw another stallion poke his head out from a neighbouring stable. Sharif’s?
She looked at Sharif, who was standing a few feet away, watching her carefully. ‘But...how is Aztec even here?’
‘I had him transported yesterday.’
‘You...? But why?’
Sharif didn’t answer that. He said, ‘Sheba is here too.’ He pointed to the other side of the yard.
Reluctantly leaving Aztec, Liyah went over to a spacious shed where Sheba was in an enclosed structure far more luxurious and spacious than her home at the Taraq palace.
Liyah was too stunned for a moment to do much but stroke her soft feathers.
Sharif was in the doorway, blocking the light. Liyah turned to face him. ‘But...why are they here?’
‘Because this is yours, Liyah. I bought this fortress for
