by Maggie Cox
'You have called me that from the beginning...rohi. What does it mean, Zahir?'
He pressed a lingering warm kiss to her delectable lips, then gently drew away. 'It means "my soul" and that is what you have become.'
'I love that,' she breathed on a wistful sigh. 'I love the way that word sounds on your lips. I will always love it.'
'Well?' Reaching behind her head, Zahir opened the clasp that held her hair back, then threaded his fingers through the silken gold locks that tumbled unhindered onto her shoulders.
'Well, what?'
'I have just asked you to be my wife, have I not? I would very much like to hear your answer.'
'Yes!' Her arms went lovingly and firmly round his waist, and although her tight embrace made him wince because of the still tender wound at his side, Zahir had no intention of asking her to ease it. 'Yes, yes, yes,' she uttered passionately. 'A thousand times yes!'
She moved over him in the flickering shadows reflected by the burning candle in the lamp, and her skin was pale as new milk and softer than the finest silk. Zahir released a groan that scraped over gravel as he thrust up high inside her, his sex hardening like hot steel.
'I love you,' he murmured as he filled his hands with her velvet-tipped breasts. 'I love what you do to me... I love how you make me feel.'
Gina's bewitching blue eyes smiled provocatively down at him in the half-light of the Bedouin tent, her unbound hair gleaming gold fire across her pale slender shoulders. 'How do I make you feel? Tell me—and you can be as poetic and romantic as you like, my love.'
'Poetry right now is perhaps a tall order.' His aroused grin was rueful. 'But being inside you like this makes me feel like I'm going to die from the sheer pleasure of you, my Sheikha.'
'Sheikha...doesn't that mean the Sheikh's wife?'
'It does.'
'But I'm not your wife yet, Zahir.'
His hands fell to her softly rounded hips and cupped them possessively. 'But you soon will be,' he declared fiercely, emotion making him thrust harder.
'Oh, my...' She shut her eyes, as if to fully absorb the power of their incredibly passionate union, then opened them again to gently rock her hips forward and back. 'I soon will be.'
'And soon after that...' He held her still for several moments, so that he was acquainted with her body more intimately than he had ever believed possible, until he felt every pulse and contraction inside her as though they were his own. They had literally became one—together and indivisible—in a true connection that was not just of the body but of the heart and the spirit, too. The sensation was definitely transcendent.
'Didn't anyone ever tell you to finish your sentences? Ohh!' Gina's head fell back as her climax burst upon her, carrying her away to a state of bliss he was eager to join her in. She had never looked more radiant.
'Soon after we are married you will be carrying my child, rohi.' Zahir's fingers curled into the soft flesh of her hips as he deliberately kept her exactly where she was. Seconds later his seed spilled hot and unconstrained inside her.
CHAPTER TWELVE
GINA had hardly been able to stop shivering all day. But it was excitement not fear that had given her tremors. From the moment she had seen Zahir in his magnificent black and gold robes, looking like a powerful warrior from ancient times, from the moment she had uttered her vows in taking him as her husband, and from their entry into the palace's grand hall for the reception afterwards, where a huge gathering of friends and extended family waited to greet them, she had been beside herself with joy.
But there was one guest she was anticipating seeing more that anyone else. Her father Jeremy had flown in from London late the night before, and apart from greeting him enthusiastically and making sure he had everything he needed she hadn't really had a chance to talk to him yet.
He had not arrived unaccompanied. With him he had brought his new housekeeper Lizzie Eldridge, and now, when Gina saw him waiting patiently, away from the tight knot of well-wishers and friends who waited to greet the bride and groom, she noticed with a small leap inside her stomach that he was holding the attractive brunette's hand...holding it rather possessively, too.
Leaving Zahir's side, Gina rushed over to him. Opening his arms, her father tightly embraced her. Was that a new aftershave he was wearing? He looked very smart, dressed in a trim ecru-coloured suit, and his greying hair had had a decent cut, she noticed. Was this Lizzie's doing? Clearly the woman had wrought more changes in his life than simply easing the burden of housework for him. Gina was more than glad. She knew now that she loved her father dearly, and more than anything she wanted the second half of his life to be as fulfilling as the first had been with her mother.
'You look utterly radiant, my darling—like a princess from the court of one of the caliphs,' Jeremy enthused, still gripping her hand when their embrace was over. 'Does your young prince of the desert know how lucky he is?'
Gina gasped as Zahir came up behind her and drew her back against him. She adored it when he held her like that. Sensing his hard, indomitable male strength made her feel safe, loved and protected.
'He does indeed, Professor Collins. Believe me, I count my blessings every day that I have found the greatest love of my life, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for giving her to me in marriage.'
Flushing a little, the older man smiled. 'Just take good care of her, will you? She means a lot to me...always has and always will. During her growing up I was sometimes remiss in telling her that I loved her, and now that I'm older and wiser, and have realised what a great gift she is, I hope I can make up for that.'
'You will always find a welcome here at the palace,' Zahir told him warmly.
Feeling her throat swell tightly, Gina leaned forward and kissed her father on his cheek. 'I love you, too, Dad...very much.'
When she stepped back, Zahir drew her possessively to his side again, as if staking his claim and saying, I'm the one who will take care of her now.
'Many congratulations to you both.'
The expression in Lizzie Eldridge's clear grey eyes was a little nervous for a moment, and who could blame her? One minute she was in London, housekeeping for a professor still grieving for his wife, then the next she was in Kabuyadir, at the wedding reception of an imposing sheikh and the very ordinary British girl he incredibly wanted to marry! If Lizzie were in her shoes, she would wonder if she hadn't inadvertently rubbed Aladdin's lamp while she was doing her household chores and conjured up a scene from a fairytale.
'Thank you,' Gina and Zahir replied at the same time.
'And I'd just like to say thanks to you, Lizzie, for helping my dad,' added Gina. 'I feel so much happier being away from him knowing that he has someone like you in his life, helping take care of him.'
'You're more than welcome. Your dad's made such a difference in my life, and my son's too, Gina. The truth is I never trusted men very much until I met Jeremy, so us getting along so well has been a lovely revelation to me. He's a real gentleman, your dad is.' Beneath the carefully applied blusher she'd applied to her softly plump cheeks Lizzie blushed even more. 'And if you're ever worried about him, please don't hesitate to call me and have a chat.'
'I will.'
'Did you have that sensational outfit specially made?' the older woman asked, politely changing the subject and gently touching her fingers to the red, bronze and burnt ochre-coloured silk skirt and matching jewel-encrusted fitted jacket that made up Gina's bridal dress.
'I did, yes.'
'Well, it's absolutely gorgeous. You look just like a goddess.'
'Thanks, Lizzie... I don't know about a goddess, but I must admit I feel a little like royalty in this outrageously glamorous ensemble. I've promised my husband I won't let it go to my head!'
'You are allowed to behave like royalty on your wedding day, rohi, because that's what you are. And, knowing you, you will very quickly revert back to the shy, unassuming, but secretly feisty Gina I adore.'
'Would you call me fei
sty, Dad?'
'You're your mother's daughter, Gina. Charlotte was a dedicated academic, but that doesn't mean to say that she was boring, or didn't have a temper, or didn't like to have her own way from time to time.'
'Oh...'
'That took the wind out of your sails, my princess, didn't it?' Zahir grinned.
Gina made a face at him.
After that, the couple were drawn away by other patiently waiting well-wishers—first and foremost Farida. For their wedding, and at Zahir's carefully worded request, she had eschewed her familiar black dress for a set of midnight-blue regal robes, and with her elfin face and glossy dark hair caught up high behind her head she was the one, in Gina's eyes, who appeared every inch the royal princess.
'Gina—my dear, dear sister.'
The two women hugged affectionately, and when they broke apart, it was Zahir's turn to be embraced.
'I was wrong about the Heart of Courage, my sister.' He smiled fondly. 'And you were right about it being a blessing all along. I swear to you I will never again think of getting rid of it. In future I will listen to the wisdom of the women in my life where such important matters are concerned, rather than riding roughshod over their opinions.'
'If you do that, my brother, then you will indeed be a truly wise ruler!'
'Pardon me...' A slim, dark-haired man with the most intense ebony eyes presented himself.
'Masoud!' Zahir embraced his friend fondly.
When he was set free again, the man turned his gaze on Gina. 'Your love and beauty have transformed my friend His Highness into the happiest of men.' He smiled. 'I would like to thank you for that. There is no man who deserves the joy you bring more.'
'Thank you, Masoud. I know that your friendship means a lot to Zahir and always will.'
Late into the night, when the party was over and the guests had disbanded, Gina and Zahir drank aromatic coffee with Farida, Gina's father and Lizzie in one of the many beautiful salons that abounded in the palace. Together they reflected on the incredibly happy event that had taken place that day.
Snuggled up next to her new husband on a sumptuous couch, pleasantly tired and secretly longing for the moment when they could retire to bed together, Gina reflected on how happy it had made Zahir to be reacquainted in a much more joyful scenario with his friends Amir and Masoud. He was so loyal and devoted to those he cared about that she was certain they all felt blessed to count him not just as their ruler, but as a firm and constant friend, too.
Seated opposite them in the intimate arrangement of seats, her father leant forward from the gold-coloured embossed couch he shared with Lizzie to address Kabuyadir's handsome and impressive ruler. 'Sheikh Kazeem Khan—' he began politely.
Next to Gina, her husband held up his hand. 'Call me Zahir,' he said. 'You are my father-in-law now, and I do not want formality to be a barrier to our friendship.'
'Zahir,' Jeremy Collins said, an embarrassed little quirk to his lips, 'I hope I am not being presumptuous by raising the topic right now, but I was wondering if you might in the future consider bringing the Heart of Courage to London. Perhaps to be exhibited in the British Museum? I have no doubt it would excite much interest amongst not only historians and those interested in ancient artefacts but in the general public, too. Especially because of the way it inadvertently brought you and my daughter together.'
'What do you think, Gina?'
She was a little taken aback when her handsome husband asked her opinion. Clearly this was a new side to him that she would have to get used to. He had barely let go of her hand since the ceremony, and even now, as they sat informally with family, he still held it. Glancing into the gaze that definitely reflected the tender feelings of his heart on this most special of all the days since they had met, Gina nodded lightly. 'I agree with my dad that it would definitely excite interest. But the point is...would you be prepared to bring it to London to be shown, Zahir? It is, after all, a family heirloom first and foremost.'
'Why not?' He touched his palm gently to her cheek. 'It might be nice to go to London in a few weeks' time, when it can be arranged. We still haven't reached a solution about a honeymoon because you will not make a decision on where to go.'
'I like it here,' Gina confessed, dimpling, 'I like is so much I don't want or need to go anywhere else for quite a while.'
'Well, if we go to London you can show me the sights and give me a personal guided tour. When I was at university in Oxford I was too fond of my studies to go there very often. I confess I have a great desire to experience the view from the top of the London Eye.' He turned back to his father-in-law. 'So my answer to your question is, yes, Jeremy, I would be prepared to take the jewel to London.'
Gina and Zahir—accompanied by a sturdily built palace bodyguard—swept by the eager queue that had formed outside the small private gallery where the Heart of Courage was making its much anticipated debut. With her handsome attentive husband holding her hand all the way, Gina felt as if she was on the set of a movie—her role that of the very fortunate heroine, and Zahir's the devastatingly gorgeous and strong hero. Every female in the audience would breathe a collective sigh of longing when they saw him.
The whole scene had a very dreamlike quality to it, but in truth all she had to do was glance up into Zahir's mesmerising dark gaze to learn that it was no dream or illusion. It was real, and it was true.
They had been married for three months now, and every day and night felt like a honeymoon. Every morning when she woke up in their bed, either in the palace or in the beloved Bedouin tent that they continued to visit often, Gina would find some exquisite gift left by her husband on her pillow—each one more beautiful and precious than the last.
Now, as she stood beside him to gaze again at the breathtaking jewel that had brought them together, arranged in pride of place at the centre of a collection of ancient Persian artefacts that included items from both temples and tombs as well as from royal houses, Gina found herself pulled gently against Zahir's side. Dressed in his now familiar robes, his luxuriant hair loose round his powerful shoulders, as he wore it in Kabuyadir, he might have been some dark exotic bird in the middle of an aviary of sparrows, she thought, smiling. Such was his imposing presence. The head curator of the gallery, a tall, slim redhead with glasses, looked as if she'd won the Lottery every time Zahir so much as glanced her way.
When they turned round, there was a bank of photographers, eager to take their pictures—Zahir, Gina and the famous jewel. With no time to prevaricate, Gina tugged her husband's hand to get his attention.
'What is it?' he whispered urgently, his intense dark gaze mirroring faint alarm.
'I'm pregnant.'
'What?'
'I was going to tell you tonight at dinner, but suddenly I...' She felt herself blush hotly. 'Suddenly I just couldn't wait.'
'Are you sure? How long have you known this?'
'I've been having symptoms for a while now, but I didn't want to say anything in case I was wrong. I'm about eleven weeks along...so Dr Saffar thinks.'
'My own physician know about this before I did?'
'Don't look so put out,' Gina teased, brushing an imaginary speck from the front of his dark blue robes. 'Of course he knew before you. He's my doctor as well now—remember?'
Zahir shook his head. He was trying to pretend he was annoyed, but the edges of his well-cut lips kept tugging upwards and betrayed him. 'You are a little minx, giving me this news at such an awkward time.'
'Why is it awkward?'
'Well, if you don't mind me demonstrating my pleasure to you in front of an audience of interested strangers, then just say the word.' He purposefully lowered his head towards her, and there was a distinctly lascivious gleam in his eye.
Gina put her hand against his chest to stop him. 'Perhaps this isn't the best time,' she agreed, feeling suddenly hot.
Zahir's expression turned serious for a moment, prompting her to hurriedly enquire, 'You don't mind...about the baby, I mean?'
<
br /> 'Mind? You know it is the news I have dreamt about hearing ever since you agreed to be my wife—the news every man who loves the woman in his life beyond reason hopes to hear... But you certainly know how to choose your moments, my love!'
'Well...' She let him tug her closer into his side. 'You delight in surprising me...now it's my turn. So you're pleased then?'
She almost held her breath as his glance became serious again. Yes, she knew how much it meant to him for them to have a child together, and wanted it as earnestly as Zahir, but sometimes the doubts of the past would occasionally surface and threaten to take away her happiness. Bit by bit she'd resolved to ignore those doubts and simply dwell on her good fortune instead and be glad.
Zahir was smiling warmly down at her again, and the depth of that incredible smile chased away all Gina's doubts. When her husband utilised that smile it was as though blazing sunshine appeared from behind a bank of stormy grey clouds and lit up the world.
'Pleased?' he answered. 'I am almost speechless with happiness. I just have to take it in for a moment. How you now expect me to give a talk about the Heart of Courage after hearing such news, I do not know.'
'You'll be fine.' Grinning mischievously, Gina stood on tiptoe to plant a tender kiss at the side of his mouth. 'You faced a horde of unruly rebels without a blink... If you can do that then you can easily talk about your family heirloom to a crowd of curious visitors. It'll be a piece of cake!'
'Sheikh Kazeem Khan!' someone called out from behind them. 'Can we have a picture of your and your lovely sheikha now?'
They turned together to face the sea of flash-popping cameras. Zahir slipped his arm protectively round his wife's still slim waist. 'The sooner we return to Kabuyadir and relative anonymity, the better I will like it,' he whispered low in Gina's ear.