Goddess of Vengeance - Jackie Collins [36]
Soraya hung her head, still refusing to look at him.
Armand didn’t care. When the King died and he inherited what was his, perhaps he would abandon Akramshar and never come back. For it was not his country, not his home. America was his home. And Soraya and her brood were not his family.
* * *
King Emir Amin Mohamed Jordan embraced tradition – his own personal tradition. Every year it was the same thing – an elaborate parade put on by his legions of grandchildren of whom he was extremely proud, followed by a public proclamation to the citizens of Akramshar – who revered their generous King. Then there was a series of more private celebrations. First a massive feast of roasted lamb, goat and other various animals. The men on one side of the huge tent erected for the festivities, the women and children on the other. For entertainment a dozen or so plump belly dancers jiggled their wares for several hours, until eventually the women and children were sent away, and a parade of exquisite Eastern European women appeared, dressed in tight, low-cut cocktail dresses, with soaring high heels on their bare legs, and an abundance of make-up.
The women formed a line, and the King chose the ones he wished to sit with him and his sons. Later the King would pair off with a woman or three of his choice, and after he had chosen, it was his sons’ turn to pick whoever they wanted. Since Armand was not the eldest son, he had to wait. This infuriated him. He felt because of his business dealings with his father, he should be next. But tradition ruled. When his time came he selected a sultry honey-blonde from the Ukraine. She reminded him of Nona Constantine, and he enjoyed reliving the ravishing of Nona. The high-class call girl didn’t, but she was paid a small fortune not to complain, so Armand had his fun with her, humiliating her in every possible way. When he finally dismissed her he could see the hatred in her eyes. It did not bother him. She was a paid whore, why would he care?
Year after year the King’s celebrations were a repeat performance. And the next morning Armand was on a plane out of there, back to civilization, back to the life he preferred.
Goodbye, Akramshar.
Goodbye, Soraya.
Goodbye to the family he’d never wanted.
Chapter Fourteen
Driving along Pico on her way home from work, Denver checked in with Carolyn. She was curious to find out what had actually taken place on Carolyn’s date with a woman. It seemed such a random thing for her to do – changing sides for no particular reason.
‘Is Bobby in town?’ Carolyn asked.
‘No. He’s in New York,’ Denver replied, pulling up to a red light. ‘Why?’
‘’Cause I was thinking you might feel like picking up a Chinese chicken salad from Chin Chin and coming over.’
‘Sounds like a plan,’ Denver said, happy to do so. She hadn’t felt like spending yet another evening home alone and, although she wasn’t really into babies, she had to admit that Andy was extremely adorable and cute.
Sam had called and left a message. She hadn’t called him back, didn’t want to encourage him. After all, she’d told him she was still involved – sort of. Maybe he hadn’t taken her as seriously as he should’ve.
After stopping by Chin Chin, she headed straight for Carolyn’s house.
Carolyn was sitting out in her back garden, Andy balanced on her knee. The two of them made a perfect picture, straight out of Modern Mother magazine.
Denver wondered whether her friend was thinking of going back to work anytime soon. Andy’s dad, the cheating Senator Stoneman, was certainly not sending her any child support. Who knew if he was even aware that he had a son? And since Carolyn’s parents had split up, they were probably not prepared to give financial aid to their daughter forever. Besides, Denver reckoned it would be therapeutic for Carolyn to find a job and put all the Washington trauma behind her.
‘Hey,’ she said lightly. ‘I left the food in the kitchen. Don’t you ever lock your front door? I walked right in.’
‘Nothing for them to