The pounding of the hammer concluded the sale and sent a shattering echo through Leila’s heart. She had failed to secure the hopes of her grandmother and Oudh. Trying very hard to bite back tears, she remained seated as the rest of the bidders made their way out of the room. Bismah stood at her side in stony silence. He was as disappointed as she was. But did they ever have a chance? Leila had known they wouldn’t, not against a contender like Marco Vincenzi. They were naïve to think he would back down. So naïve! 

A man like him would not care for the special meaning it had for the people of Oudh— her people now. She had caught the look he sent her when he outbid her. Oh, she wished she could wipe that smug satisfied look off his face.

“It is time we left, your highness,” Bismah said coldly. His reproachful eyes boring into her as she slowly gathered herself from her seat and made the effort to walk toward the door. 

“We will need to inform the Queen of this—this news,” Bismah did not try to be polite. He blamed her for not acquiring the vital talisman of their land.

Burdened with the responsibility to inform her grandmother that she had not been able to retrieve the hope of an entire kingdom, Leila postponed contacting her grandmother for later. 

Making her way to the foyer of Sotheby’s she was told that her car would be delayed for a short time and that alternate arrangements would be made. 

Bismah was in busy consultation with the concierge when Marco entered the foyer from a side office. A briefcase handcuffed to his right wrist and a beautiful woman dangled from his left, his every step echoed his triumph. Two armed men escorted the couple. The entourage stopped when Marco spotted Leila. 

“Princess, is there a problem?” Marco asked, approaching her. Leila was struck by the concern in his voice but before she could respond, Bismah intercepted.

“The car has merely been delayed and we await the arrival of a courtesy vehicle from the hotel,” Bismah informed him, not hiding his disdain.

After inquiring as to which hotel and getting a reluctant response from Bismah, Marco said, “I believe I know the hotel, it would be my pleasure to take you there.” He told Leila. “You need not wait. No princess should be kept waiting.” Marco’s angry gaze swept over Bismah. 

“You need not concern yourself, Mr Vincenzi. I am sure the wait will not be long,” Leila said quickly.

 “You heard the Princess, darling.” The woman took a step closer toward Marco. “We should leave. After all we have precious cargo.” She tilted her head toward the briefcase while long painted fingers caressed Marco’s arm.

“I insist.” Marco was not going to take no for an answer. His beautiful companion shifted uncomfortably.

Bismah decided, “I think the—Mr Vincenzi is right. We should accompany him to the hotel.” Bismah eyed the briefcase handcuffed to Marco’s wrist. Leila’s skin prickled. What was Bismah up to? 

He had mentioned a plan B but that had been a joke. Hadn’t it? Did he plan on stealing the gem that was obviously contained in the briefcase? She quickly dismissed the absurd thought.  

Imagining Bismah with all his pomp and propriety wrestling with Marco—tall muscular Marco—for the briefcase, wasn’t hard. A smile played on her lips at the impossible image, breaking through the misgivings of the last few hours. 

 Marco could not help but stare. Leila’s animated face was mesmerising. Her large hazel eyes were rimmed by long, dark eyelashes and her golden skin illuminated from within. Her full lips curved in a smile to reveal a dimple on each cheek. 

Leila became conscious of Marco’s intent gaze and her smile quickly faded. It was Bismah who, yet again, broke the spell.

“It is late your Highness; we should get back to the hotel.” 

Unsure of Bismah’s intentions, Leila had no choice but to be escorted to Marco’s awaiting limousine. Still clinging possessively to Marco’s arm, his clearly annoyed companion whispered frantically in his ear while Leila was ushered into the limousine followed by a smug Bismah. 

Marco affectionately kissed the cheek of his annoyed companion and left her standing at the kerb before he got in. 

The limo’s slow course through London traffic intensified the stilted silence within. For a while, each occupant stared out the tinted windows caught up in their thoughts. Leila’s thoughts drifted from the ruby to the man seated across from her. His close proximity, the woody leather scent of his cologne and his long legs just inches away affected her senses acutely. She was drowning in a sea of him. Tossing about why thoughts of him would supersede the fact that she had failed her first duty as princess.  

Consciously making the effort, she focussed on the ruby contained in the briefcase casually placed on the seat next to Marco.

 Marco was fascinated by the myriad of emotions fleeting across Leila’s expressive face. She would make a terrible poker player or a liar for that matter. Noticing that her eyes reverted once again to the briefcase, he was sure her thoughts lay with the ruby. For some reason, a feeling of disappointment crept into the weak control he managed to wrestle with and salvage. 

“Do you really believe that the ruby has special powers?” Marco asked derisively. 

Leila stared at him for a moment. “It doesn’t matter what I believe but what the people of my country believe. But of course I don’t expect you to understand.”

The emotional turbulence of the last few hours had drained most of Leila’s energy and she confidently placed the blame on Marco. 

“A curious thing to say, Princess” Marco was not about to allow her to make statements without her explaining what she meant. “Humour me, why would I not understand?”    

Hostility triumphed over any ladylike response she might have learned in the last few months and so she did not bother to censure her response, “You seem ruthless, only concerned with your own gains.”

“I hope you don’t believe everything you read in the tabloids. Journalists have a way of twisting the truth as I am sure you know only too well.” 

The quip had the effect he intended. Leila bit her lip to restrain herself. 

“Why did you want the ruby, Mr Vincenzi?”

“I like collecting beautiful things,” Marco said. 

The satisfied grin grated on Leila’s nerves.

She knew there was a message in that statement that did not only refer to the ruby. Gazing out the limo window, she took a deep breath and tried focussing her attention on the hub of central London.

“You were prepared to pay any price for that ruby, weren’t you?” she asked when the question could not be contained in her head any longer.  

He didn’t immediately answer her, preferring to stretch the moment. She was still staring out the window. Biting at her bottom lip. He found himself both enjoying and regretting that he could rile her up to such an extent. 

“I suppose I am walking into your little honey trap when I say yes, but I think you already knew I would pay any price to get what I want. It’s business, nothing else.” 

“Well you may be an astute businessman, Mr Vincenzi however, the ends do not justify the means. And anyone who thinks so—always pays a higher price.” She turned toward him, hazel eyes drilling into his.

Leila watched as Marco’s face dealt with her rebuttal. For some reason she refused to be bested by this man. She was uncomfortable in his presence and she wanted to return the feeling. 

Her heart had yet to settle from the first moment she laid eyes on him. Every time he looked at her, an inexplicable jolt hit in the pit of her stomach. Fear. Or perhaps anger. She could not quite define it. All she knew was that he was the obstacle that prevented her from helping Oudh and her grandmother. And she had let them down.

“Do you believe the folklore involving the ruby, Mr Vincenzi?”  Her question seemed to make Marco uncomfortable because he shifted in his seat. 

Before he could answer, she said, “You know the ruby can only bring fortune to the royal bloodline of Oudh. It is a pity what happened to the dealer to whom my uncle, Prince Arman had sold it and the ill-fated thief who’d stolen it a few years ago. Aren’t you afraid that the same misfortune might befall you?”

A sneer from Bismah indicated that he was listening in on their conversation. She’d almost forgotten he was riding along with them. A warning glance from Leila was enough to silence any further retorts. 

Marco’s laugh broke the standoff between Bismah and Leila. 

“I thought you were much worldlier than that Princess, I do not indulge in old-wives’ tales. They are for the simple-minded.” Although he was smiling, a sliver of doubt flashed in his grey eyes. 

“I hope for your sake it is just an old-wives’ tale, as you put it, Mr Vincenzi.” 

Marco was bemused by the woman sitting before him. There was more to Leila Brown than just a beautiful princess. She was dangerous, dangerous to his well-being. He was fortunate to keep a cool rational head in all facets of his life, be it business or pleasure, but she seemed to turn his world upside down. 

He should be happy right now—ecstatic. In fact, he should be out celebrating the acquisition of the Heart. But all he could think about was how those big, beautiful eyes gleamed with a haunted sadness in one moment and then flashed with pride in another. She was a lioness, prideful and protective, but she didn’t quite fit in the pack yet. 

He wanted her. To be the lioness of his pack. More than he had ever wanted anything else. The mere thought of just reaching out, and touching her overtook common sense. But he hadn’t forgotten the jolt of electricity between them when they’d last touched.  

This journey had better come to an end soon.