Crowned for the Sheikh's Baby

by Sharon Kendrick

  Following a fulsome speech from the country’s Prime Minister and then a few heavily edited anecdotes from Salvatore, she and Kulal stood up to raise their jewel-encrusted goblets in a toast, before entwining arms so that they could drink from each other’s cup. Afterwards, Kulal clasped her fingers in his and led her onto the dance floor. But this was nothing like the private dance they’d shared in Sardinia when they’d been watched by nothing but the silver moon. Now she felt like an exhibit in the zoo as all the guests circled to watch their shimmering movements. Were they observing her bulky silhouette? She was just sixteen weeks pregnant, but her tiny stature made her look much further ahead in her pregnancy than she really was.

  And all the longing which had been building up inside her began to evaporate beneath the spotlight of the spectators’ stares. Perhaps they were thinking that Kulal had fallen for the oldest trick in the book—though they’d probably be even more appalled if they realised that theirs had been a one-night relationship. Looking around in vain for the encouraging smile of her sister, Hannah felt like a mannequin in her new husband’s arms. She was relieved when finally he led her from the vaulted gallery, past the bowing servants who lined the corridors as they made their way towards Kulal’s private rooms. Hers, too, from now on, she reminded herself grimly.

  But for how long?

  As he gestured her inside, Hannah looked around. She’d only been in the palace for a week—which had been spent in her own lavish quarters on the other side of the palace. She had been more than comfortable there, close to the palace’s vast central courtyard, where peacocks wandered amid orange trees and the air was fragrant with the heady perfume of gardenia. Kulal had given her a guided tour of all the state rooms, as well as the dimly lit library with all its ancient books, and she remembered her momentary burst of pleasure as she’d realised that here were all the tools to continue her learning. He had shown her the throne room and the crown jewels—to which she would have unfettered access as his new bride. After that, he had taken her to the state-of-the-art stables, as well as the garage complex with a fleet of cars which could have graced any international Grand Prix circuit.

  But nothing could compete with the splendour of the King’s private residence with its soaring pillars and gilded rooms which each flowed seamlessly into the next. Low velvet divans were scattered with brocade cushions and faded silk rugs were strewn over the floors. Intricate silver lanterns hung from the vaulted gleam of the golden ceiling and the air was richly scented with incense.

  ‘You look subdued, Hannah,’ Kulal observed softly as the massive doors clanged shut behind them, leaving them alone at last. ‘Does the thought of your wedding night fill you with trepidation?’

  She met his ebony gaze and remembered what it had been like when she’d used to clean for him in Sardinia, when her days had seemed impossibly simple and free from care compared to now. When he’d shown her his country on the map and talked about mountains and rivers and the rare, pink-tinted Zahristan deer which drank at the crystal streams, and which you could sometimes observe if you were very quiet. Sometimes he would actually ask her opinion about something and his eyes used to gleam with humour when she told it the way it really was. When she’d talked to him as if he were just a normal man, rather than a royal potentate. Couldn’t she do that now?

  ‘I’m scared I’m going to get lost among all these marble corridors,’ she admitted.

  A brief smile played on his lips but, visibly, he seemed to relax. ‘And that’s all?’

  No, of course it wasn’t all. She was terrified of the wedding night which lay ahead, despite the desire which was never far from the surface. Terrified that her newly bulky shape would kill his passion for her stone-dead. And there were other fears, too—nebulous things she didn’t dare acknowledge, especially not in these nervous moments before the Sheikh claimed her as she knew he would.

  But she had vowed to try to make this marriage work, hadn’t she? To give it her best shot—and she wouldn’t be able to do that if she behaved like a chambermaid. She could only succeed in her role as his desert Queen if she adopted a new confidence—if she started believing in herself and her ability to make this work, as she had done so many times before.

  Sucking in a deep breath, she lifted the diamond coronet and the golden veil from her head and carefully set them down on a nearby table and began to walk towards him. Each step felt as if it were covering an infinite amount of space during a short journey which seemed to take for ever. And then she was standing before him, her eyes fixed firmly on his, praying that he would be the master of what happened next because, although she was trying like mad to believe in herself, she didn’t think she was up to seducing the Sheikh in such intimidating surroundings.

  ‘Not quite all,’ she admitted in a rush. ‘I feel nervous about the night ahead even though I have no right to. I mean, it’s not like I’m a virgin any more, and—’

  He silenced her, not with his kiss but with a forefinger placed over her lips. ‘You have every right to feel nervous,’ he said gravely. ‘For although you are no longer a virgin, you are still relatively inexperienced and today must have been very difficult for you in many ways.’

  She nodded, warmed enough by his consideration to confide her biggest fear. ‘It was pretty daunting,’ she confessed. ‘And it wasn’t helped by wondering where Tamsyn had got to.’

  ‘Or Xan Constantinides,’ he offered drily. ‘He left the ballroom soon after her. Didn’t you see them go?’

  ‘No, I didn’t.’ Hannah bit her lip. ‘Isn’t he supposed to be a terrible womaniser?’

  ‘I’m afraid so.’

  ‘Do you think she’s okay?’

  ‘I’m sure she’s physically safe, if that’s what you mean—though it’s probably inadvisable to sleep with Xan Constantinides unless she’s prepared to get her heart broken.’

  ‘That’s the last thing she needs right now!’ said Hannah urgently. ‘Kulal, we’ve got to find her!’

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘What do you want me to do—spend my wedding night ordering my guards to extricate Constantinides from her clutches?’

  ‘Or her from his!’ she declared loyally.

  Kulal frowned. ‘Tamsyn is an adult, Hannah—just like you. I’m sure you were the exemplary big sister to her when you were growing up, but don’t you think it’s time you cut the apron strings?’

  She’d thought that plenty of times, but habit was one of the hardest things to break. ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea if she starts associating with people who are way out of her league,’ she said, meeting the sudden mockery in Kulal’s eyes.

  ‘Like you did, you mean?’

  She was trying to think of a suitable response when suddenly the Sheikh seemed to lose patience with the conversation because he picked her up.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘What do you think I’m doing? I’m taking you to bed. I’ve had enough talking, particularly about your sister.’

  He began to carry her towards a beautiful carved arch at the far end of the room and Hannah kicked her legs a little like a toddler learning to swim.

  ‘Please put me down, Kulal. I’m much too heavy.’

  ‘You weigh nothing,’ he said, carelessly discounting her protest. ‘Nothing at all.’

  And perhaps he decided that kisses were better than words—for kisses took you down one path and words another. Perhaps he was bored with talking altogether, for he set her down beside the biggest bed she’d ever seen and pulled her into his arms.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ‘SO,’ SAID KULAL, his voice unsteady. ‘Time to seduce my new wife. But first, I need to get you out of this infernal wedding dress.’

  Hannah’s heart was hammering as the Sheikh turned her round to begin unhooking her decorative gown. It seemed to take him ages, but that might have had something to do with the fact that he kept brushin
g his mouth over each inch of newly exposed flesh, so that by the time he had laid her trembling and naked beneath the embroidered bedcover, all her nerves had dissolved beneath a feeling of mounting anticipation. Just enjoy this, she told herself fiercely as he pulled the ceremonial robes from his darkly muscular body and slid naked into bed beside her. Because this is your wedding night and it will lay the foundations of your whole life together.

  ‘I’ve never had sex with a pregnant woman before,’ he murmured as he grazed his mouth over hers.

  Brushing the back of her hand across her forehead, Hannah mimed relief. ‘Thank goodness for that.’

  He paused, lifting his head away from hers so that their gazes collided. ‘I don’t want to hurt you, Hannah.’

  ‘I’m tough,’ she said truthfully, though she was talking physically, not emotionally. Because when he looked at her in that seeking way, she felt almost boneless with a deep longing which was alien to her. But surely she was permitted to experience it on her wedding night... Surely just this once she could hint at all the passion lying deep inside her, waiting to be unlocked. ‘Just hold me, Kulal.’ Her voice trembled a little. ‘Touch me.’

  His features hardened as he stared at her and she wondered if she’d sounded needy. But suddenly, his mouth was on hers and he was kissing her with a hunger which seemed to echo her own and she felt a great whoosh of excitement flooding through her. And although Hannah wasn’t—in Kulal’s own words—very experienced, somehow that didn’t seem to matter. Not to her and not to him. Not now, when she was his wife. When she was at liberty to touch him without inhibition. And why be shy when his baby was in her belly? Wasn’t their flesh combined in more than one way?

  ‘Oh,’ she said breathlessly as he began to drift his fingertips over her skin.

  ‘Your breasts are magnificent,’ he said throatily.

  ‘You don’t think they’re too...big?’

  He gave a strangled kind of laugh. ‘What kind of a question is that?’

  Now wasn’t the time to admit that the fashion magazines which Tamsyn had always passed on to her to read had always made Hannah feel like an over-curvy freak. Not when he was bending his head to suck hotly on each aroused nipple. She shivered as his fingertips skated over the curve of her belly, lingering there for just a moment. She waited for him to say something about the baby, but he didn’t and she told herself it was stupid to feel disappointed. To think that if this were a normal honeymoon, then he might have mentioned the unborn life within her.

  But why think about the things he wasn’t saying when his seeking fingers were delving in between her parted thighs and beginning to stroke her. He was tantalising her as he rubbed his fingers against her slick, wet heat until she moved restlessly—her hunger beginning to mount.

  She knew she couldn’t just lie there passively. During her solitary nights last week on the other side of the palace, she’d furtively read a book on sexual satisfaction within marriage, which she planned to put to good use. But when she summoned up the courage to slide her palm over the enormous erection which was nudging hard against her belly, Kulal dragged his mouth away from hers and gave a decisive shake of his head, before moving her hand away.

  ‘No,’ he said sternly.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I’m too close to coming and I want to do that when I’m inside you.’ His voice was almost gentle as she sank her hot face into the sanctuary of his neck. ‘And I don’t really think that now is the time for blushes, Hannah. Do you?’

  She remembered that once he’d told her he liked her blushes, but that had been way back when—when he’d thought she would be in and out of his life in a few short hours. If he had been able to look into the future—if he’d known that their single night in Sardinia would have ended with her as his new Queen in this amazing golden palace—would he still have gone ahead and had sex with her?

  Of course he wouldn’t.

  Would she?

  But the crazy thing was that Hannah couldn’t find herself regretting that night—and not just because Kulal had introduced her to a physical pleasure she was discovering hadn’t been a one-off. It was more than that. Because already she felt a fierce love for the new life growing inside her—so how could she possibly have regrets?

  ‘Hannah,’ he said sternly, as if he’d guessed she was miles away. ‘Pay attention.’

  With a shy smile, she opened her mouth to his and that was when sensation took over, obliterating all thought and replacing it with feeling. She swallowed as his moist tip nudged against her and gasped as he eased himself inside her molten heat.

  ‘No protection,’ he exclaimed as he stilled inside her and gave an exultant sigh. ‘Just you and me, with nothing in between us.’

  She knew his words were supposed to be erotic, but Hannah felt deeply emotional as he filled her with his hard length and began to move. She’d wondered if making love while she was pregnant would feel any different, but the blissful truth was that it felt amazing. Maybe even better than that blissful night in Sardinia. It certainly felt more intimate. Almost too intimate. She clung to him as his thrusts deepened and she felt the tantalising build of orgasm, but she was so intent on kissing him that it seemed to creep up on her by stealth, so that when pleasure came, she cried out his name in a way she hadn’t planned, the gasped word echoing around the vast bedchamber so that it sounded like some sort of prayer. Was she imagining the sudden tension in his body before his movements resumed and he shuddered out his own release?

  Afterwards, she waited for him to say something, because she had no idea about post-sex protocol, especially between a man and a woman who’d been forced to marry. Did they act as if today had been no big deal? Did she try to explain that the curiously vulnerable way she’d called out his name hadn’t actually meant anything? She waited for some sort of reassuring hug, but instead he rolled away from her, his hot black gaze briefly roving over her rounded curves, before lying on his back, his breathing still ragged.

  ‘So...’ She cleared her throat. ‘All in all, I thought today went off quite well, didn’t you?’

  He could hear the faltering delivery of her words and a battery of responses ran through Kulal’s mind, but he took his time before selecting one. Should he tell her he’d felt nothing but duty as he had exchanged those meaningless vows? Yet the truth was that he’d been almost comfortable with that, because he was familiar with detachment and he enjoyed the barrier it created between him and the rest of the world. That part had all gone according to plan and afterwards, at the reception, he had acknowledged the congratulations offered by the Sheikhs and Sultans of adjoining regions, knowing that his royal line would be continued. Again, so far, so expected.

  But when he had brought his new wife to bed...

  He swallowed.

  When he had stripped away her constricting bridal gown to reveal the cushioned flesh which had burgeoned so much since last time he’d seen it and which had welcomed him so eagerly, he hadn’t felt quite so detached then, had he? He told himself it was because he’d never had unprotected sex with a woman before and that was the reason why it had felt so...

  He stared at the dappled rose light which flickered across the ceiling.

  So what?

  As if he’d never been that close to a woman before—which in one sense was true, because he’d never had sex without the obligatory thin layer of latex. Was that the reason why he had felt so alive and so vital? Why his heart was still pounding fit to burst in his chest? It had been the most incredible sexual experience of his life, yet he couldn’t deny that his response had the potential to add complications to his life. Especially if Hannah got the wrong idea. He didn’t want his new bride to think his rapturous reaction meant anything more than an amazing orgasm.

  Because that was all it had been.

  All it ever could be.

  Kulal stifled a sigh. Once he had
found out about her pregnancy, he’d been determined to keep his baby and known it would make more sense if Hannah was around, too. It would certainly make it easier. But while he was prepared to be reasonable to get her to stay, he would not lie to her. Because lies could seep into people’s lives like poison. They could darken everything they touched. And the first lie was always the most dangerous. The gentle tap which would send the whole line of dominoes tumbling down...

  ‘Not as bad as I expected,’ he said, turning his head to look at her. ‘I think it served its purpose, don’t you?’

  ‘Oh.’

  Her voice sounded muffled and he didn’t have to see her face crumple to sense her disappointment. That much was evident from the sudden slump of her shoulders and the way she’d started chewing her lip. Was she secretly longing for him to adorn the day with romantic embellishments which didn’t exist? Or was she trying to guilt-trip him—even though she’d known the score from the very start?

  ‘What did you want me to say, Hannah?’ he demanded. ‘That it was the most wonderful day of my life?’

  ‘No, of course not.’

  He saw the confusion which had clouded her eyes and fury at being hit by another wave of guilt prompted his next words. ‘To go through a marriage I didn’t particularly want—you think that gives me pleasure?’

  His words were harsh but honest, and he thought she might turn away from him. To lie there trembling with silent resentment. And wasn’t that what he wanted her to do? To draw a line in the sand between them that she would never dare cross again. But she just kept staring at him, those aquamarine eyes so wide and dark in the rosy tint of the lamplight, as if she was summoning up the courage to say something he wouldn’t want to hear.

  She cleared her throat. ‘So are you against marriage generally?’

  Kulal’s mouth hardened. Too right he didn’t want to hear it—the question he’d been asked a million times, usually by women on the make. One he always slapped down as coldly and as finally as possible. But Hannah was not one of those women; she was his wife. She had succeeded where so many had failed and he couldn’t slap her down, not completely.