Her eyes were wide. “Thank you,” she murmured sotto voce.
“Better without it, though.” And he lifted a hand to lightly brush it against the small of her back. She startled, surprised by the contact, disappointed in the way her body instantly trilled with longing.
“Do you come to the theatre often, Minister Atti?” She addressed the elder statesman who had invited them out that night, earning a look of wry cynicism from Aki.
“Coward,” he mouthed, allowing his eyes to drift lower and linger insolently on the curves concealed by the couture gown.
Eleanor didn’t know what her next move could possibly be. Day by day, night by night, the strength of her resolve was being tested. He was her husband. She had no intention of divorcing him, for it would bring about an even greater embarrassment to her father. So why was she holding him at arms’ length when she so badly wanted to be with him?
She forced herself to concentrate on what the kindly gentleman was saying. “Yes, Aida was always one of my favourites too,” she responded, catching the drift of his last sentence. “I saw it in Vienna a few years ago. It was beautiful.”
“I did not know you enjoy musical theatre,” Aki said, drawing her attention back to him.
“Opera,” she responded. “Though no doubt you think musical theatre is more at my intellectual level,” she responded waspishly.
He laughed, a sound of actual amusement that sent waves of pleasure spiralling down her body. “On the contrary, I think anyone can enjoy the opera. It is something to be experienced rather than intellectualised.”
Eleanor compressed her lips. He had an answer for everything! And he hadn’t even attempted to deny her assertion regarding her intellect.
He saw the way her expression changed and misinterpreted its meaning. “You do not agree?”
“Actually, I do,” she said, looking up into his eyes. It was a mistake. The minute her hazel eyes fixed on his, she felt a powerful ache low in her abdomen. She sucked in a deep breath, but was powerless to look away. “I think that opera has suffered from being seen as the province of intellectuals and musicians. Something like The Magic Flute has moments of humour that even novices can appreciate.”
He scanned her face thoughtfully. “Go on.”
“Oh… why?”
Because he liked hearing her speak. He narrowed his eyes. “You seem to feel passionately about it. I thought you would like to tell me more.”
“No.” She shook her head self-consciously.
She was silent again, and it angered him. Every time she seemed to show a hint of personality, she crawled back into her shell and hid away from him.
“Walk with me,” he ordered, his tone of voice not open to argument.
She lifted a hand to the necklace she always wore and ran it back and forth along the chain. His eyes followed the motion.
“I… wanted to finish my conversation with Minister Atti,” she responded lamely, for the old man was nowhere to be seen.
Aki leaned forward, a hand lightly on her elbow, his mouth against her ear. “It is not wise for anyone, even you, to disobey me. Walk with me.”
A frisson of awareness ran down her spine. She set her face into a mask of withering annoyance, but she allowed him to lead her away from the guests. As always, a flurry of servants seemed to mark their progress, the whole way down the steps of the theatre, and out onto the busy street. Unlike in Western society, there was no flashing of cameras, no paparazzi. Aki was able to come and go without worrying about photographers and the tabloid press.
“Where are we going?” She asked, looking around at the Talinese people who had stopped what they were doing so that they could stare at their ruler.
“Well,” he drawled, putting an arm around her waist so that she was held close to his side, “What I really want to do is take you to the palace and renegotiate the terms of our marriage. But I suspect you are not yet amenable to altering your restrictions. And so I am showing you something that I think you will like in the mean time.”
Her heart lurched. Renegotiating the terms of their marriage actually held a lot of appeal to Eleanor. And that was terrifying. “Fine,” she muttered. Up close, he felt hard and warm, and his body emanated a strength that she knew was not simply an illusion.
“It is not far. You are comfortable walking?”
Her feet pinched a little. Unfortunately, the royal protocol officer who had arranged Eleanor’s wardrobe did not approve of her penchant for comfortable, flat shoes, and had insisted on kitting her out with a selection of leather heels. They were not stiletto, and the leather was soft, and moulded especially for her feet, but the sensation of walking on tip-toes was still foreign to Eleanor. “I’ll be fine.”
“Kalinad is beautiful,” she said a short while later, referring to the capital city, as she peered up at the cityscape. It reminded her a little of Morocco. Low set buildings huddled together with holes cut in the clay walls for windows. They were painted in different shades of red and brown, giving the city a very earthy feel. The streets were paved with stone, and contrary to the expectations she’d had of a desert city being barren of greenery, there were spiky green trees along the side of the road.
“In here,” he said with a nod toward a narrow opening between two buildings.
“In there?” She peered after him, scrunching her nose a little at the smell of dank earth.
“Follow me.” He reached down and latched his fingers through hers, then took a step between the buildings.
It was only narrow for a couple of feet. As they progressed, it widened out again, until they emerged from the buildings into a beautiful green park. “Oh!” She gasped, stopping on the spot and twirling around. “What is this place?”
Dusk was quickly giving way to night, and the sky above them was filled with purples and blacks, and some orange and red, giving it a stunning effect. Stars twinkled high overhead. “It is a royal park. This part of the city was traditionally reserved for palace officials, and therefore the layout was carefully managed to ensure the best lifestyle. Hundreds of years ago, my ancestors worked out how to feed water into the city from the ocean – so many hundreds of miles away. These parks are kept green using the same historic viaducts.”
“Incredible,” she remarked, crouching down and gliding her hands over the cool green grass. It ran as a carpet across the gentle undulations of the land. “That must have been an enormous undertaking.”
He nodded sagely. “Amazing what can be achieved with an army of slaves at your disposal.”
She frowned. “When you put it like that… it seems wrong to compliment you for it.”
“And yet I bet you still admire the pyramids for their beauty. And the colosseum in Rome for its grandeur. Why not this for its ingenuity? Much of our country was built on the backs of slaves. It is regrettable but unchangeable.”
“Regrettable?” She spat, with a roll of her eyes. “It’s barbaric.”
“Yes,” he agreed, not caring what they were discussing, so long as it brought that fire back into her eyes.
“Doesn’t it make you ashamed?”
“Five generations ago, slavery was abolished in my country. Talina was one of the first countries in the world to recognise the rights of all people equally – to discard the notion that one person can own another.”
“What about arranged marriages?” She prompted recklessly. “Are you telling me that doesn’t go on in your Utopian society?”
His heart felt odd inside his chest. Weightier than normal. “There are many things that go on in Talina of which I do not approve.” When she opened her mouth to interrupt, he continued over the top of her. “And you would be the first to accuse me of behaving like a dictator if I took greater control of my people’s behaviour.”
She shook her head. “Control, yes. But ensuring proper laws maintain the standards you expect… that is not dictatorial.”
“Isn’t it?” He wondered aloud. “How do I find out what people are doing? S
py on them? Have government agencies read their emails? When we are aware of a crime, my police forces prosecute.”
She ran her eyes over his handsome face thoughtfully. “You don’t strike me as a man who accepts failure.”
He nodded, and pulled her to him. It was unexpected, and caught her completely off guard. They were in the middle of a group of bushes, and yet still Eleanor’s first thought was as to who might be able to see them. She looked around nervously.
“I am King, and you are my wife. And if you think I’m going to accept failure in our marriage, then you do not know me at all.”
“I don’t know you at all,” she retorted quickly, but her body was beginning to shiver in response to the contact with his rock hard frame. His woody, masculine fragrance made her pulse race.
“You know that I desire you. You know that I am respecting your wish to decide when we consummate our union.” He lowered his mouth, so close that he was almost able to kiss her. “You know that when we do, it will be very, very satisfying. You have never known the sensations I can give you. The pleasure of two bodies moving as one, perfectly in time, anticipating one another’s needs to deliver pleasure.”
Her breath hitched in her throat. But his words from the night of their marriage had lodged in her brain, and nothing could free them. She shook her head. She had to give him credit for trying to make the best of a bad situation. But how he must resent her! He had married her simply to remove the threat of civic disharmony. He had sacrificed his right to choose his own bride because of what was best for his country.
She focussed on a point over his shoulder. “I should get back to the palace. I have an early start tomorrow.”
Mentally, he groaned, but outwardly, he seemed nonplussed. He put a deferential hand in the small of her back, to guide her back to the opening in the houses. “What is your early start?”
She flicked a nervous glance up at him. Her whole body felt alight with raging fire. Had he really been able to switch off his desire so easily? “A breakfast with your mother and cousins. I am officially to be welcomed by the women of the family.” It was a farce. They expected to welcome a happy bride, and instead, they were getting Eleanor. A woman stoically resisting her husband’s charms because she’d heard him admit that he pretty much hated her.
Aki looked at her with an apologetic expression. “My mother is rather… intense at times.”
Eleanor angled him a curious look. “She seems fine to me.”
“Oh, she’s harmless. She will, however, take every opportunity to remind you of your responsibility to secure our royal future.”
“Ah. I see.” Her cheeks flushed, and she worried at her lower lip. “The baby issue.”
“It is not for my mother to impose her thoughts. You are my Emira, Eleanor. You do not have to answer anything that makes you uncomfortable.”
She stopped walking in the middle of the narrow path between the buildings. It was dark, and it was quiet. “I can’t just ignore your mother though! She’s your mother!”
“She deserves to be ignored, if she is pressuring you,” he murmured darkly.
He had told himself he’d be patient. But he was desperate to pull Eleanor back into his arms and kiss her senseless. He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “No one deserves to be treated with contempt,” she responded crossly, a little line creased between her brows. “At least, not for asking what is a perfectly normal question. After all, you and I are strangers who married. Who wouldn’t presume that a baby was part of the equation? That an heir was your primary concern in marrying me.” Her breath was shallow in her chest. Anxiety was making her skin tingle.
“Why I married you is no one’s business,” he responded, and he allowed himself to put his hands on her hips and feel the warmth of her skin.
“I’ll be able to handle her,” she said quietly, distracted from their conversation by the knowledge that they were completely alone, and that he was touching her.
“I have no doubt.” She’d torn shreds off him on the night of their wedding and he hadn’t forgotten. She looked up at him, and silently, she was imploring him to kiss her. It was wrong. It was confusing. He’d said such horrible things about her to his friend Ryan, but her body didn’t seem to be getting the message.
He lifted a hand to her hair and ran a finger over the crown of braids. “You know, when I first met you, I thought you were so American.”
“I am American,” she said, ignoring the way her heart was thudding in her chest.
“You are also Talinese. And tonight you look very… regal.”
Her heart turned over in her chest.
“And very young.” He sighed heavily, as he lowered his mouth to hers. He had intended only to brush his lips against hers, but the moment their flesh connected, he felt electrified. He groaned in his throat as he deepened the kiss, plundering her mouth as he wanted to her body. Her hands lifted of their own accord to the side of his face. His stubble was rough beneath her fingers.
It lasted only a minute, but it was long enough for Eleanor to know she would weaken sooner than she wanted to. Denying herself what she wanted didn’t seem noble any more. And she wasn’t sure she cared enough for her self-esteem to keep resisting her husband.
She lifted fingers that shook slightly to her lips. They tingled beneath her touch.
“Aki,” she said quietly, her eyes searching his.
“I know, I know.” He shook his head and looked down the narrow path. “That shouldn’t have happened.”
“I… that’s not what I was going to say.”
“Wasn’t it?” He fixed her with a direct stare. “I gave you my word that I would respect your conditions. It is important to me to honor that. I am a man of my word, azeezi.”
She swallowed convulsively. “You also said you’d … find other ways to … umm…”.
She flushed to the roots of her hair, and despite his misgivings about what had just happened, he couldn’t help but smile at her naivety. “That I’d replace you with someone who was willing to sleep with me?”
“Yes,” she said on a rush of breath. “Exactly.”
He shrugged. “I was angry. I spoke without properly examining my wishes.”
She nodded, surprised by the admission of fault. “So you haven’t? Or, you won’t?”
He moved a little closer, so that Eleanor’s face was just an inch from his. “I haven’t. And I won’t.” A frown seemed to flicker across his expression, as though his words came as a surprise to him, as much as they did Eleanor.
What if she told him what she’d caught him saying about her? Perhaps he would apologise? Perhaps it would be something else he’d said without thinking it through properly. She opened her mouth but couldn’t make herself admit that she’d overheard such horrible things about herself coming from his mouth. She shook her head and shrugged. “Okay.” She forced a smile to her face. “I really have to get back now.”
She had been about to say something else. Something momentous. Aki had felt her prepare herself; had seen the way she’d stolen herself to speak, and then changed her mind at the last minute. As they drove back to the palace in silence, he felt his mood darken. Why had his wife got under his skin in this way? When they’d married, he’d had her stored perfectly in a box. He knew she was simple, and vapid, and probably boring. Passably attractive. But now, after one argument, he felt like she was taking over his mind, both waking and not. He wanted her physically, but the fact she was withholding herself from him made him wonder about her in other ways too.
Surely it was just that she was keeping him at a distance. Once he’d indulged his desire and slept with her, this fascination would be at an end. His original opinion was correct. They had little in common. Besides that, she was the daughter of his enemy. Her family had represented a sleeping threat to him for as long as he’d known. It was impossible for him to start feeling anything for her other than a combination of disdain and acceptance.
Fortified, he said a brief
good night to Eleanor and disappeared to his office. She was his wife, but she was not entitled to take over his thoughts.
Chapter Four
“Why don’t you come back over here? I miss you.”
She could hear the weight of worry in her sister’s silence. “I can’t. Jak’s too busy.” Her voice was quiet. Cracked. Eleanor’s heart swelled with sympathy.
“If Jak’s so busy, he might not even notice you’re gone.”
It was a lie. Jak knew everything about Michelle’s schedule. Eleanor wouldn’t put it past her brother in law to have micro-chipped his obedient wife.
“It’s because he is so busy that I can’t possibly leave him. You know how he counts on me.”
Eleanor compressed her lips. He counted on her to iron his shirts, cook his dinner and be his verbal punching bag whenever he was in a bad mood. Which was more often than not, she suspected. “Shell,” she said with a sigh, sitting down on the edge of her bed and staring out at the sun-drenched garden below. A colourful bird danced before her eyes and then perched on a small twig in a large green bush.
“Don’t.” Michelle’s voice was shaken. “I can’t take it today.”
“Why not today?” She asked, honing in on her use of the betraying word. “What’s happened?”
Like a clam, she closed down. “Nothing! God. If I’d known I was in for an inquisition, I wouldn’t have called you.”
Tears filled Eleanor’s eyes. The sense of helplessness was extreme. To see the person she loved most in the world in obvious pain, and be powerless to help her, was a form of torture. “But you did call me. You wanted to talk to me.”
“Not about… anything in particular,” Michelle insisted. “It’s just been a while. I wanted to catch up on your news.” There was a pause, and Eleanor worried that Michelle was fighting tears. “How’s life as a fully fledged Queen?”
Eleanor fiddled with the corner of her duvet. “It’s good. Fine.”
“Oh? Now who’s keeping secrets?”
Sheikhs: Rich, powerful desert kings and the women who bring them to their knees... Page 66