The moment she'd blurted the words out, Jayne felt her pulse quicken. She squeezed her eyes shut…and waited. The silence on the other end of the line was absolute.

"No."

The answer rang with finality over the vast distance that separated Zayed from New Zealand. Tariq's voice was smooth and deep and very, very cool. Like ice. Tingling shivers of apprehension started to dance along Jayne's spine. She recognised that sensation. It meant trouble.

Jayne gripped the handset until her fingers hurt. "But we've been separated for over five years. I thought you'd be jumping for joy at the prospect of a divorce." And your father, too. She refrained from adding the dig. Mention of his father, the Emir of Zayed, tended to result in arguments—she'd learned that a long time ago. And she didn't want a battle with no ceasefire in sight, she simply wanted a divorce.

But this was not going quite as she'd planned. From the outset Jayne had intended avoiding any direct contact with Tariq—or his father. She'd phoned the Emir's chief aide, Hadi al Ebrahim, and had bluntly stated that more than five years had passed since Tariq had banished her from Zayed. Tariq was a citizen of Zayed and their marriage had been conducted in accordance with the laws of his country. According to the laws of Zayed, parties had to be separated for five years before a divorce could be petitioned.

The legal waiting time was over. She wanted to set divorce proceedings in motion. The excruciatingly polite aide had taken her number and promised to call her back.

But the aide's promised call hadn't come. Instead Sheikh Tariq bin Rashid al Zayed, her husband—no, her hopefully soon-to-be-ex-husband—had called.<