“I know, my wife. It is done. We will talk of it no more.” He shifted and grimaced. “Now, we must talk of other things before I have to take more medicine which puts me to sleep.” He shifted again and groaned. “Maybe not. I need to change. These clothes were not made for comfort.”
“I'll get Matthias.”
“No.” His word halted her progress. “You are my wife now. You can help me.”
She blushed, but nodded.
“In the top drawer of my dresser, you will find the clothes I wish to wear. The dark blue set.”
She approached his dresser, and realized a second, matching one sat beside it. This was her room now, too. Her things must have been moved in here while she'd spoken with the queen. After she settled the prince, she would figure out where her stuff had been put. She opened his drawer and found the clothes he'd requested.
Following a painful struggle and a lot of blushing on her part and some on his, they managed to get him changed. They were both breathless with the struggle. His hands clenched the blankets. His eyelids squeezed together, and sweat dripped from his face.
“I need a pain pill now.” He gritted his teeth. “We will talk later over a late dinner.”
After looking at his pain-marred face, she exclaimed, “Oh, Josiah.” She handed him the pill. When he finished with the water, she wiped away the sweat on his face with a cool cloth.
His eyes slid closed. She started to move away, but he grabbed her arm. “Come, lay beside me for a few minutes. I want to feel you next to me in our bed.”
Heat rose to her cheeks, but she moved to the other side and crawled in beside him, being careful not to disturb his casted arm or tear her gown.
She touched his arm. He didn't protest. She began caressing it above the cast and then moved up to his hair. She hadn't realized how much she wanted to touch him. A quiet moan came from him. She pulled away.
“Don't stop. Feels good.” His voice sounded groggy. She put her hand back in his hair, running her fingers through it until his breathing evened out. Soft and thick, it curled around her fingers. It surprised her how much she enjoyed touching him like this.
She leaned over and touched her lips to his cheek, reliving the kiss he'd given her just thirty minutes before. “I love you, Josiah, my prince, my husband.” She kept her voice quiet so she didn't disturb him. He didn’t need to hear her words, not yet.
She moved from the bed one inch at a time so she didn't wake him. It was doubtful he would wake up after taking the pain pill anyway. In the second dresser she found her things, folded and put away. Entering the closet, she found more clothes she supposed belonged to her, though she hadn't seen them before. She touched a few of the exquisite gowns, feeling their softness and admiring the embellishments. Several sets of everyday outfits also hung on one side.
She took a set off its hanger and changed while in the closet. Knowing she would wear the wedding dress again, she hung it beside his formal wear. She placed the hat on the shelf above the gown. A quick twist and a few pins set her hair in a neat bun to which she added one of her own hats.
As she walked from the bathroom, a light knock sounded on the door. Anaya poked her head in and motioned for Cahri to come out into the hall.
“How is Josiah?” she asked.
“He was in a great deal of pain earlier, but he is resting now.”
“Good. Are you okay?”
“Yes, just a little overwhelmed, I think. Was it only this morning I sent you a note requesting to be your servant? My belongings have changed rooms three times today. I wonder if Stormy will ever find me.” Cahri giggled. “I think I'm over tired.”
“Yes, it was this morning. It has been a long, eventful day. Stormy is fine. He has taken over the kitchen. The kitchen staff love him.
“A cot is being put in Josiah's sitting room for now. Unless he asks you to join him in his bed, you are to sleep in there. He doesn't need the added stress of learning to sleep with someone, or the distraction.” This last she said with raised eyebrows, a twinkle in her eye, and a cheeky smile.
Cahri's face heated, but she just nodded. She hadn't considered sleeping arrangements. Too much had happened in too short of time.
“Dinner will be here in about an hour. Oh, and my father wanted to make sure you know the feed to the security cameras in your rooms has been turned off.”
“Thank you. Can I make a phone call?”
“Sure. There's a phone in the sitting room. Feel free to use it anytime you like.”
“Thanks.” Cahri returned to the room to check on Josiah and then tiptoed into the sitting room to call Paul.
The conversation troubled her. He wouldn’t believe she was fine. She sighed. At least he lived in France and not closer.
Chapter Twenty
Cahri answered the quiet knock on the door. Several servants stood outside with an elaborate dinner. The prince slept on. Should she wake him or let him sleep?
On the way out, one of the servants pulled the door too hard, and the prince woke with a start, jumped a little, and then moaned.
Cahri went to the side of the bed. “I'm sorry.”
He closed his eyes. “Don't apologize for things that are not your fault.” He sighed. “Was that dinner?”
“Yes.” She focused on the floor, not sure what else to say. She felt more confident as his caretaker than as his wife. Before, there had been no expectations of her except to get him well. Now, she had to live with whatever happened between them.
He peered at her and sighed again. “Help me sit up. At least I can eat while it's hot.” She moved to help him. He already moved move easily, but it was still difficult. She started to move away when a tear slipped from her eye and landed on his arm. Before she could move further, he stopped her with a gentle touch. “Why are you crying, Cahri?”
“I'm sorry. It's been a long day. I tend to get weepy when I’m too tired.”
“Yes, it has, but you didn't answer my question. Why are you crying?”
“I… I'm not sure. I guess because I don’t know what's expected of me now. What do you expect of me as your wife? Am I supposed to start working with Anaya or still be your caregiver? This whole day has been overwhelming, and I'm so tired.” She decided to close her mouth. Not only did fatigue make her weepy, she tended to ramble as well.
“Why are you so tired? It's not even,” he paused to look at the clock, “seven.”
“I know, but I didn't sleep well last night, and I woke earlier than usual this morning.”
“Why?”
She glanced up at him. Curiosity showed in his eyes.
“I had a bad dream.” She was not ready to admit she dreamed about him.
“What did you dream about that disturbed your sleep?”
She hesitated. He prodded her to answer with a gentle squeeze on her arm. Might as well get it over with. “I knew something had gone wrong with your trip yesterday.”
His caress on her arm made her insides quake, so she stepped away from the bed, shuffling back and forth between the chair and the door.
“I had this need to pray for you. A need I couldn't ignore.” Her voice trembled, but she continued. “I… I dreamed you and Anaya were riding in some trees, and then you were in the desert and you had fallen, and Anaya and another man kneeled beside you. Anaya was crying. I was worried for you.”
“Come here,” he urged. His tender voice soothed her agitation. She stepped closer to him.
“Thank you for praying for me,” he said. He lifted the hat from her head. “Why do you always wear a hat?”
“My mom came from a small city in Turkey. Head-coverings were required there. When she moved to America and married my dad, she thought about discontinuing the practice, but felt uncomfortable with her hair exposed. When I was born, they discussed it and decided as long as I kept my hair pinned, I didn’t have to wear one, or so they told me. When I reached my teens, I started wearing a hat to honor my mother. It became a habit. Most people think it’s
a fashion statement.”
“Unpin your hair,” he whispered.
She did.
“For now, while you are in my… our room, you will leave the hat off and your hair down. I want to see it and touch it whenever I like.” He ran his hand through her hair. “It's so soft.” Pulling her closer, he inhaled its scent. “It smells so good.” Her face heated.
He released her hair with a grunt. “This is going to be a long recovery.” He grabbed her hair again and rubbed it against his face. “An awfully long recovery.”
Fire coursed through her as he gazed at her with unguarded desire in his eyes.
“You'd best go see to our dinner before I start something I am as yet unable to finish.”
She moved away, but, on a whim, veered back and gave him a quick peck on the lips. He was faster than she expected and snaked his hand under her hair to the back of her neck.
“Oh no, you don't.” He chuckled when she gasped, then moaned from the pain in his ribs. “Pain or no pain, you will not get away with that little peck.” His voice deepened as he pulled her closer. “It's not an appropriate kiss for a new wife to give her husband, is it?”
Another kiss. She couldn’t stop the grin that graced her lips.
“Kiss me like you want to kiss me.” His eyes darkened, and his voice deepened even though he whispered.
She swallowed. What had she gotten herself into? She couldn’t resist the desire which bubbled within her at his touch, at his voice, at the thought of tasting him again.
Their lips connected, and she was lost to anything but him, his mouth on hers, his hand moving through her hair. A knock sounded on the door, and she pulled away. Her cheeks flamed. She touched her lips, swollen from the kiss.
“Not now!” Josiah yelled to whoever was at the door then inhaled a quick breath.
“Josiah?” The king was on the other side of the door.
Her heart beat stammered in her chest. Would he be displeased with her actions?
“Just a minute.” He gazed at her. “Thwarted by the king. Go into the bathroom and re-pin your hair and put your hat back on, but when he is gone, I want it off again. Understand?”
“Yes, my prince.” At his grunt, she said, “Yes, Josiah.”
When she had moved into the bathroom with her hat and pins, he called for the king to enter. She took a few minutes to wash her face and fix her hair and hat. They spoke in quiet tones, so she couldn't make out their conversation. She took a deep breath, checked her appearance again, and walked out of the bathroom to find the king gone.
She studied her husband, confused by the frown on his face. His eyes were closed. After walking to his side, she could almost see him fighting for control. She caressed his clenched hand.
“What is it?”
He shook off her hand as though it were a fly, without opening his eyes. “Later.”
She swallowed. “Yes, my prince. Would you like your dinner now?” Her voice came out shaky, despite her attempt to keep it steady.
“Yes.”
She made her way to the table where the servants set the trays. With a little of everything on his plate, she took it back to his side.
“What would you like first?”
“Anything is fine.”
She fed him dinner and he ate in silence. When he finished she walked back over to the food and fixed herself a plate and ate at the bistro table. At least, it was what she wanted him to think. In reality, little food made it past her lips.
She went over the last twenty minutes in her mind. What had she done wrong this time? She didn't understand.
“Do you need anything else?”
“No. I'm just going to sit here for a while and read. I'll let you know when I'm ready to lie down.”
“Okay.” Too tired to argue, she took the dishes and placed them outside the bedroom door and then went to the dresser to find her nightclothes and get ready for bed.
What had she done wrong that the prince would treat her with such indifference? They were getting along fine. Better than fine. Now he treated her like an unwanted burden. Heaviness weighed down her heart.
After finishing in the bathroom, she moved to the bed prepared for her in the sitting room. She laid her clothes on the back of one of the chairs and got beneath the covers, hoping to fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. In the true fashion of being overtired, she didn’t. Instead she thought about the last twenty-four hours. It seemed like days since she'd written the note to Anaya asking to be her servant, not hours.
Would she ever please her husband, ever be the wife he wanted, the one he needed? How many times would he be disappointed in her before he'd had enough? She thought she’d done the right thing. Maybe she should have just left and gone to France.
“Cahri?”
A glance at the clock showed the time to be just before nine. She must have slept a little.
It took a minute to remember where she was, who she was. She stood up, and tried to find her way in the semi-darkness, aiming at the light shining through the doorway.
“Yes, my prince?” She yawned behind her hand.
“I'm ready to lie down now, and I need my medicine.”
She got his medicine and helped him lay down.
“Will there be anything else?” She tried not to sound as tired as she felt.
“What were you doing in the sitting room?”
“Sleeping.”
“Why are you sleeping in the sitting room?”
“Because I'm tired.”
“Why are you sleeping in there?”
“It's where I was told to sleep.”
“By whom?”
“Anaya.”
“Why would she do that?” He spoke under his breath.
She remained quiet, not sure if his question was directed to her.
He gazed at her and raised an eyebrow.
“She said you didn't need to learn how to sleep with someone right now, and I wasn't to sleep in here without an invitation.” She left off the part about being a distraction. Her cheeks heated at just the thought. “Since there hasn't been an invitation, and you were angry with me again, I didn't suppose I was welcome.” She remembered his coldness from earlier and her heart hurt anew.
He huffed in irritation and frustration. “You are my wife. This is our bed. You will sleep in here with me, even when I'm angry with you, which I'm not.”
She was too tired to argue, so she said, “As you wish. Are you ready to turn out the light?”
“Yes.”
Cahri flipped the switch and tried to find her way in the dark. When she bumped into the bed, she mumbled an ouch. Finally, she found her way and slid under the covers. Fatigue kept her from being nervous or embarrassed.
“Good night,” she murmured. She shifted onto her side, facing away from the prince.
“Cahri?”
“Hmm?”
“I'm sorry I was so cross earlier. My father gave me some bad news. I shouldn't have taken it out on you.” He paused. She remained quiet and then heard him whisper, “Are you awake?”
She lay on her back. “Yes. Would you like to talk about it, now?”
“Not tonight. It’s obvious you’re tired and I am as well. We’ll discuss it in the morning.”
She sighed and twisted back to her side. “Okay.”
“Cahri?” Josiah said, caution in his voice.
“Yes?” She tried to keep her voice even to hide her frustration and the tears which still threatened. She hated being so weepy. Her normal fortitude crumbled under the weight of exhaustion.
“I'm glad you’re my wife and I'm sorry I can't… be with you tonight. I want to. I want to touch you.” His voice cracked. “I want to hold you.”
Cahri absorbed his words. She switched sides and faced him, propped up on her elbow. “Do you mean it? I disappointed you so much today.” She studied the stitching on the sheets, anything to not see his face in case he was displeased with her. “I'm not sure I'll ever understand ho
w to be a good wife.”
“You did fine today, my sweet. Turn on the lamp beside the bed, please.”
She did so.
“Ah, Cahri,” he whispered as he touched her cheek. “Come, help me switch sides of the bed so I can hold you.”
She quirked her head but helped him move to the other side. They traded pillows.
“Now, turn out the light and come lay beside me. I want to touch your hair and feel my wife next to me.”
When the light was off, she crawled beneath the covers and breathed in Josiah's scent. Her pulse increased as she lay where he had just been. The warmth from the covers enveloped her.
“Josiah?” she said, so unsure of everything right now.
“Yes, my sweet?” His reply was tender, and he pulled her closer, rubbing his hand along her back.
“I'm glad I'm your wife too. I'll try to do better tomorrow.” She hoped she would do better. It couldn't get much worse.
“I'm sure you’ll do fine. Now rest. It’s been a long day.” He relaxed with his fingers tangled in her hair. “Oh, before I forget. This is now your bed. You are always invited.”
“Yes, my husband,” she replied. She was thankful he wanted her to be with him as much as she wanted to be with him.
“Mmm… I like the sound of that,” he murmured.
His breathing evened out. She wished she could sleep again with such ease. The hour she got earlier refreshed her enough to allow her thoughts to run wild.
What had the king spoken to him about? Why had it upset him?
Chapter Twenty-One
Though they slept later than normal, both awoke not long after the sun rose. Cahri washed and changed. At the request of the prince, she found Waseem to help him with his morning routine. While they were busy, she took a short walk in the garden.
When she returned, the prince sat up in bed with his Bible open on his lap. He had returned to his normal side with his clothes changed, his hair combed, and his face clean-shaven. He appeared rested and ready to start the day.
“Breakfast will be here in a bit. Before it comes, we have to talk. Come, sit.”
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