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here with him.

CHAPTER FIVE
    Olivia couldn't stop staring around her. The plane had dropped them off at what at first glance seemed like an enormous cabin in the mountains. It looked like something out of a fairy tale, with gorgeous stained glass windows and a green shale roof, but when she stepped inside, she was astonished by the modern conveniences. It really was a small mansion camped high on the mountain top.
    “This place is incredible,” she murmured, looking around. “I've never seen anything like it.”
    “And you won't again. This is a place that has been in my family for generations, and each one of us has left a mark on it. It will never be featured in any magazines, and the number of people who are not related to me who have been in it in the past twenty years can be counted on one hand.”
    She turned to him in surprise. “Have you ever brought someone up here?”
    “No,” he answered, but before she could read too much into that, he gestured towards the hallway.
    “Your room is the second door on the right. Mine is across the hall from you. Move around, make yourself comfortable. Until and unless I need you for something, you are free to roam as you like.”
    He paused, thinking for a moment. “Give yourself a few hours to get settled. At six, I would like you in the living room and ready to perform.”
    She blinked at him. “What?”
    “At six, I want you in the living room and ready to play something for me. I'm open minded. I doubt you could play something that I'd hate.”
    “That's what you want me to do? Play you music?”
    “Is that a problem? You brought your violin.”
    She had to admit that it wasn't. When Olivia went to her room, she found it to be far more luxurious than any place she had ever stayed. It was easily the same size as the apartment her entire family was living in, and for a moment, she felt a pang of guilt. Then she put it aside because she had stranger things by far to worry about.
    Olivia did as Makeen instructed her to do. She stretched out after the long flight, resting on the bed with her eyes closed for a little while, but she found she couldn't sleep. Finally, she reached for her violin. After all, if he wanted her to play, she needed to warm up. The moment she touched the familiar warm wood, Olivia felt a sense of peace go through her. She had this. She would always have this, no matter what happened.
    When six o'clock rolled around, she was calmer than she had been in what felt like years. She rose up from her seat and with her violin and bow in hand, she went to the living room.
    Makeen was already seated there and waiting for her. He had taken off his suit to dress in linen trousers and a shirt she recognized as a traditional Zahar tunic in deep red. He sat on the couch, ankle propped on the opposite knee and with a drink in his hand. He looked every inch a man bred to rule, and in that moment, she understood what it must have been like to be a musician in times long gone, brought before a man who held the power of life and death over his people and told to play.
    Somehow, she did not feel nervous. She had never played for an audience of one before. She had certainly never played in front of someone who had so much power over her. Instead, she seated herself on the ottoman a few feet in front of him. She could feel his dark eyes on her, and there was something oddly sensual about the moment. In some ways, what she was about to do for him was more personal than taking off her clothes, and she thought that he understood that.
    She fitted the violin under her chin, took a deep breath, and brought her bow down into the first delicate notes of Mozart's Violin Concerto No. 5. It was a light but startlingly difficult number, one that required all of her concentration. However, as she played, she realized that she was exquisitely aware of Makeen in a way that she had never been before. It felt as if her music was acting as a bridge between them, as if it could say the