HE GUIDED HER into a room, a library, and she sat there, shivering with cold and tiredness and the hurt of it all.
‘I didn’t feel for Petra the way I feel about you,’ he said, and Flo let out a hollow laugh.
‘You’ve had all night to come up with something and that’s the best you can do?’
Flo stood and went to brush past him but he halted her.
‘I knew that I was...’ He stopped. Hazin was certain he had messed up too much for the plans he had made. ‘Flo, I wasn’t thinking about Petra.’
‘You said her name when you came.’
‘After I came,’ Hazin said, and those seconds mattered. ‘Afterwards,’ he reiterated, ‘I just felt this terrible guilt because I’ve never felt like that before. I didn’t love Petra the way I love you.’
But Flo was so wary and way too used to lies to simply believe him.
She did sit down, though, while Hazin did his best to explain.
‘Just before she died, Petra told me that she knew I didn’t love her and I can’t stand it that she died never knowing love. Because I didn’t. Ilyas had again refused to marry and my father had asked me if I was prepared to step up. I said yes. For the first time I didn’t feel like a substitute. I did the right thing by my father and I married the bride they chose for me. I did my best and I treated her like the princess she was but—’
‘Hazin,’ Flo interrupted, ‘love doesn’t just happen, well, not most of the time...’ She had to qualify what she had just said because love had just happened to her on the night they had met. ‘You married a stranger...’ Flo was not a mean person by nature, so she was kind. ‘I’ve seen the way you treat others, I don’t doubt you were wonderful to your wife. Perhaps she was just trying to set you free...’
Hazin was quiet as he thought back to those times because that was the type of thing Petra might have done, and then he swallowed as Flo spoke on.
‘Maybe love would have grown.’
He nodded.
For in many ways it had.
‘You were eighteen when you married, Hazin, and did your best at the time...’ Flo shook her head. ‘I can’t do this now. I need to sleep.’
‘Of course.’
She walked away from him, and as she did so his words were playing in her head.
Though the words that were playing on repeat in her head weren’t—Petra, Petra, Petra, Petra, Petra. Instead they were...
I didn’t love Petra the way I love you.
When Hazin had said love had he perhaps meant want?
Or had Hazin just told her he loved her?
And if he had, what on earth was she doing, walking away?
Flo could feel his eyes on her as she entered her room. She wanted to get away from his gaze so she wouldn’t break down and cry and instead could clarify things to herself and think.
But then Flo opened the door and she simply stopped thinking. In fact, she was stunned, because suddenly it had turned into Christmas.
There was a gorgeous pine tree with twinkling lights and all the presents she had wrapped were under it, as well as some she hadn’t.
It was bewildering.
Flo stood and breathed in the scent of pine. She looked up at the gold streamers lacing the ceiling. Everywhere she looked it was Christmas—there was even fake snow on the balcony doors.
‘Happy Christmas,’ Hazin said, and he came up behind her and snaked his hand around her waist, and Flo just leant back on him.
‘You did this.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘The staff have been busy.’
‘You arranged it, though.’
‘With difficulty. When you declined to change rooms I had to think on my feet and somehow get you over to mine so the staff could decorate the room. I filled your stocking, though.’
Flo looked over towards her bed and sure enough there was a red velvet stocking hanging there.
‘I believe you’re supposed to open your stocking first?’ Hazin prompted.
‘Absolutely.’
Shaken, Flo walked over to the bed and undid a velvet bow and the stocking dropped into her hand.
‘I didn’t do the decorations, but I wrapped each gift myself,’ Hazin said. ‘Well, except for the fruit and nuts.’
He really had! There was a lipstick and a nail varnish and... ‘False eyelashes?’
‘I had to look up gift suggestions,’ Hazin explained.
‘Oh, well, thank you very much.’
‘There’s more,’ Hazin said.
Flo smiled as she weighed the stocking in her hand. But then tears filled her eyes because what he had done was beautiful, but the hours before had hurt so very much.
He knew how much he had hurt her, so he took her in his arms and just held her as she tried to work out how it was possible to be so sad and so happy all at the very same time. How to swear never again in one moment, while knowing you were about to dive right back in the next.
‘I don’t understand what happened, Hazin.’
‘Flo, I messed up...’ he admitted. It had been the story of his life and Hazin was certain that no apology this time, however heartfelt, could fix it.
‘You, really, really did,’ Flo said.
‘I won’t do it again.’
‘You might.’ She giggled.
For Hazin, it was the most magical sound on earth, so much so that he peeled himself from her embrace and held her as he gazed upon forgiveness.
The right kind.
He just looked at her—and marvelled that she could smile after what he had done. The hint that there would be more chances of getting things wrong helped too.
‘I am in love with you,’ he told her.
It was so new to them both, such a naked honesty that neither really knew how to deal with a love so exposed.
And so they attempted normality, on a Christmas Day in Zayrinia that had not existed until now.
‘The presents under the tree are from your family,’ he told her. ‘They were delivered last week.’
‘So Kumu was lying.’
‘On my orders.’
And though usually Flo would be diving under the tree and tearing paper, in bliss to open presents from home, instead she just stood there, those words he’d said still on repeat.
The I love you ones.
It was time for Flo to be brave.
She went to the tree and her hand hovered over the two gifts she had bought for him.
‘I got something for you too.’
She went for the first, the safe option, yet as she handed it to him there was a flutter of hope in her heart.
He looked at the little card with his name on and opened the parcel carefully.
‘Chocolate gingers?’ he frowned as he read the box and opened them up. ‘I’ve never heard of them.’
‘Dark chocolate gingers. They really are the best.’
He bit into one and his smile grew wide. ‘They are amazing.’
‘I know, I know.’
‘They seriously are. Thank you.’
‘Once you know how good they are, it’s sort of a tradition to eat them every year.’
‘I think I can manage that.’
Then she looked at the pile of presents. There was even one from his parents addressed to her. Had they listened to his speech? Had kindness been sown? She looked at the labels on the presents from her family.
To Flo
With Love
Those words were such an unquestionable presence in her life, yet one Hazin had lived entirely without.
It was time to be brave.
And so she handed him another present—a slim package. Just an envelope dressed in silver and tied with a bow.
But within it lay her heart.
‘This is for you,’ Flo said.
He looked at the little card, again with his name upon it, and he undid the bow and then peeled open the silver envelope.
Inside was a ticket to a West End show.
‘I’ve got the other ticket,’ Flo told him.
‘But it’s not until spring?’
‘It was the earliest I could get weekend tickets,’ Flo said, and then she took a breath. ‘And it would give you time to think. If by then you’d missed me...’ Then she said the hardest part. ‘When I first thought about what to buy you, I was in a department store and decided on some sexy underwear. Something fun and light that could be kept for me, but it wasn’t what I wanted...’ She looked at Hazin and admitted a truth she had recently learnt. ‘I don’t speak up enough. I do at work, but in my personal life I’m the queen of pretending that everything’s fine and not stating my wants. I’ve decided it’s time that stopped.’
‘I agree,’ Hazin said. ‘So what are your wants?’
‘That if we see each other again I want it to be about more than just sex.’
‘Such as?’
‘I want to go out on a date.’
A first date.
A proper one.
‘I would love to go out on a date with you,’ Hazin said, and he looked down at the ticket. It meant so much to be asked for a night out with Flo. ‘Perhaps I could take you to dinner beforehand?’
‘I’d like that,’ Flo said. ‘Very much.’ But then, at the mention of dinner, her stomach cramped. ‘I hate to ruin the romance but I’m so hungry, Hazin, I haven’t eaten since...’ Flo could honestly not remember when.
It had been her own fault. There had been refreshments discreetly delivered throughout the night, but the knot in her stomach had been placated by endless tea.
Well, no more.
And so, as unsexy as they were, Flo stated her wants. ‘I need something to eat.’
‘Then I’ll call Kumu.’
‘But then she’ll know you’re in here.’
‘Flo,’ Hazin said, ‘I don’t care who knows about us. Now, if you are truly starving, open your stocking.’
‘It will take more than fruit and nuts...’
‘It’s not a mandarin,’ he said, and picked up the discarded stocking and handed it back.
It felt like it was.
Well, satsuma was her choice of fruit for Christmas Day, but to pick him up on his naming of citrus would be rather splitting hairs when he’d gone to so much effort.
It felt like a heavy fruit for it was soft and round but when she pushed it up through the stocking, Flo found it was, in fact, a squishy, burnt orange velvet ball. Like a luxurious stress ball, it was a work of art, with tiny gold tacks all around and an intricate gold catch.
It was a box of sorts.
Flo did not want to get this wrong.
She did not want to get her hopes up only to be told they were Petra’s earrings that he had long kept in a drawer and had hastily wrapped at the last moment so that he could give her a gift on Christmas Day.
She giggled at the chaos of her own mind for she could not quite believe that this moment was hers.
‘Why are you laughing?’ Hazin said.
‘I have a very dark sense of humour.’
‘I know you do,’ he said. ‘Are you going to open it?’
‘I’m nervous.’
‘Don’t ever be nervous with me.’
Hazin wasn’t nervous.
Doubt and uncertainty belonged to days prior—delivering a speech while knowing a ring was being made by the royal jeweller, and trying to politely accept commiserations while your heart was soaring for the first time in a decade.
Hazin hadn’t just been looking up stocking filler ideas on the Internet, or Christmas decorations either.
He really wanted to get this right, and so when Flo didn’t open it he took the box and got down on one knee. ‘Florence, will you do me the honour—?’
‘Hazin!’ Flo screeched, embarrassed, laughing and happy, so happy, all at the very same time. ‘Get up!’
‘Not till you say that you’ll marry me.’ He smiled.
‘Yes!’
Oh, yes.
And, oh, what a ring.
A diamond that, now she had a Christmas tree, could possibly have been hung on string, or even placed at the top as a star for it was so huge and sparkly.
‘See the band...’
She couldn’t see, for her eyes were filled with tears, but when she wiped them there were tiny intricate flakes of frost and snow engraved on the white gold band.
She had her white Christmas after all.
It really was the little things.
‘I love you,’ he told her. ‘I have been planning this for a while, and I guess I felt guilty for all that Petra missed out on.’
Now she could see just how the guilt must have played on his mind.
‘How do you think her family will react?’
‘They were thrilled,’ Hazin said, and he smiled at her startled look. ‘When I went to dinner the first night, I apologised and they said they wanted me to be happy. That it was time to be.’
‘It is.’
‘I never intended to tell them about you, but I went over again yesterday. I didn’t want them to hear it in an announcement.’
He was, for all his wild ways, the very kindest of men.
‘And I had to inform Ilyas too.’
‘Am I the only one who didn’t know?’
‘Pretty much.’ He nodded.
‘Maggie didn’t know.’ Flo shook her head as she thought back, because she was certain something would have been said last night, but then she realised what must have happened—Ilyas would have come back from the meeting with Hazin to find Maggie in labour. ‘What did Ilyas say?’ she asked.
‘That he could not be happier for me, as long as you said yes. Flo, I know there is a lot to work out—my brother wants me here but I have told him that I love London too. It is also my home...’
‘We’ll work it out,’ Flo said, for she knew that they would.
‘I was going to tell him that for our residence here I wanted a new area, but now, since you have been there a few times, it is starting to feel like home too.’
There was so much to think about, and so many changes to come for them both, but with the constant of love they would sort it all out, Flo knew.
‘I’d better call my parents,’ she said, ‘given everyone else knows.’
‘Why not call them after lunch?’ Hazin suggested, as there was a soft knock at the door.
Kumu, with two maids, came in wheeling a huge trolley and they set up the meal at a table.
‘Your meal is ready,’ Kumu said, and it was clear to Flo that she expected them to come to the table and eat.
‘I was just...’ Flo started, and then halted, for she could hardly tell Kumu she intended to take her meal to bed.
As well as Hazin!
So she duly took a seat and so too did Hazin. Smiling, Kumu removed the silver cloche covering her plate and Flo stared in disbelief at her meal.
It was a true Christmas dinner.
There was succulent turkey and the trimmings, about which Flo was extremely particular, were perfect.
There were golden Yorkshire puddings and pigs in blankets with a side of bread sauce. Brussels sprouts had been roasted and crisped just as she liked them and there was a glistening cranberry sauce. There were parsnips loaded with butter and what looked like her favourite chestnut stuffing.
Hazin could not know all her trimmings.
‘Did you speak to Maggie?’ Flo asked shaking her head, because although Maggie had joined Flo and her family at Christmas a couple of times, surely she could not have so specifically remembered how things were done.
This was perfect, right down to the willow-pattern-print plate her mum used at Christmas.
Flo was bemused.
Confused.
She took up a fork and tasted the stuffing, and it melted on her tongue.
‘That’s just like my mum’s stuffing.’
‘Because it is your mum’s stuffing.’
‘Did you ask for the recipe?’ Flo said, and then looked at Kumu, imagining the palace chefs trying to get it right, but, no, no one ever could.
For this was perfect.
‘Enjoy,’ Kumu said, and she left with the maids.
Flo sat facing Hazin and he took her hand.
‘I spoke to your father,’ Hazin said, ‘to ask for his permission to marry you. And then I spoke with your mother and she said she would be delighted to cook dinner a little earlier...’
‘This is my mum’s dinner.’ Flo could not take it in, then she remembered her mother on the phone, all tense and too busy to speak—no wonder! ‘You had it flown all this way for me?’
‘I’ve been planning this for...’ He had been about to say days. About to say how, when the sun had streamed into the cave, he had known this was love.
It had been earlier than that, though.
Hazin thought back to the deserted beach in the Caribbean, knowing she was at the Palace and aching to return, yet wanting the anniversary out of the way first.
And then he thought of the night they had met and how his heart had beat faster.
‘I’ve been planning this for quite some time,’ Hazin admitted. ‘I got it into my head that I wanted the anniversary over and done with before you and I got together, but I couldn’t last. I had Kumu discreetly find out your parents’ phone number and on the morning of the anniversary I spoke with them.’
‘Kumu knew then?’
Hazin nodded.
She remembered then Kumu standing beside her and translating the speech. How, of late, Kumu had been looking after her that bit more.
‘Is that why she asked me to sleep in the west wing? So they could decorate my room?’
Hazin nodded. ‘Had you just said yes, we could have avoided—’
‘I don’t want to avoid anything with you, Hazin. We can face anything. And I loved last night.’ She smiled. ‘Well, most of it.’
‘Call your family...’
She needed to eat but she also needed to speak, so he fed her perfect roast potatoes as she called home.
‘Thank you!’ the conversation started. ‘Yes!’ it was all a bit garbled.
Hazin could hear the shouts and congratulations and then they somehow had dinner with her family and ate together across the miles.
And then one of Flo’s sisters-in-law asked a question. ‘I’m not sure.’ She looked over at Hazin. ‘Will I be a princess?’
‘You’ll be a sheikha princess.’
‘Oh!’ She relayed the information back to her family. ‘Apparently I’ll be a sheikha princess.’
Hazin loved it that she hadn’t particularly cared or known.
For she loved him, he knew.
Then the call ended and they ate the last of their dinner. Flo needed bed, though not to lie down.
‘Come here, my bride-to-be,’ he said the second she put down her fork.
And suddenly Flo wasn’t tired and they tumbled to the bed and kissed. A deep, tender kiss as they peeled their clothes away. Just so utterly thrilled to have found each other. And when they made love, he said her name over and over and over.
‘I love you,’ Hazin said. It felt so good to say it and deeply mean it.
‘I love you back.’
And then, as they lay there in bliss, the oddest thing happened—a large cheer went up outside and they both laughed.
‘For a second there,’ Flo admitted, ‘I thought they were celebrating us.’
‘And me. They must have just announced the birth.’ And then he looked at Flo, the love of his life. ‘As of today, I’m third in line.’
‘You’ve been demoted!’
‘It doesn’t feel like it.’
Flo looked at her shiny new ring and then at him. ‘It’s the best Christmas ever.’
He had made it so.