He couldn’t believe he was saying those words to Simdan, of all people, or how much truth was in them. What was he going to do if Tiffany was carrying his child? He’d never wanted to be a father, not after the indifference he’d known from his own while his brother, older by one year, had basked in the sunshine of his approval. He didn’t ever want to be in that position. Now it seemed a very real possibility.
‘You consummated your marriage?’ The leer on Simdan’s face made his blood run cold. ‘You got more than you bargained for from your hired bride?’
Jafar clenched his fists in an effort not to grab Simdan’s robes and threaten him. The disrespect he had for Tiffany was out of order, but it was the fierce need to protect the woman he’d married that alarmed him more than anything else. ‘I have no idea what you are talking about.’
Simdan folded his arms across his chest and raised his chin in a display of power that would rival any of the exotic birds of Shamsumara. ‘Make the most of your days as ruler, cousin, for they are numbered. I will prove your marriage is a sham.’
‘If you will excuse me, I have a gift to present to my wife.’ He looked across at Tiffany, to see her holding her own in conversation with Niesha. Alarm chased down his spine. If Simdan had challenged him, then almost certainly Niesha would be challenging his wife.
His wife.
Twice within the last few seconds she’d come to his mind as that. Not Tiffany, or his hired bride, but his wife. The week spent solely in her company must have made him weak, softened his emotions. That would have to change if he was to hold onto his position as ruler. He would never succumb to such power-reducing emotions as affection and most definitely not love. Lust and desire were all he needed.
‘I am intrigued,’ Simdan said as he stood by his side, watching Tiffany in a way that made Jafar’s anger boil up. ‘What gift will you give to a bride who will be gone within months?’
A pang of guilt shot through Jafar. The gift he intended to present her with would cast aside any doubt that their marriage was real. It would mock Simdan’s meddling words that suggested his bride would be gone within months and that was exactly what he’d intended when he’d organised what had become a traditional gift for Al-Shehri men to present to their brides.
‘I know what you are doing, Simdan.’ Jafar’s cold words slid out slowly, control and calculation in every one, but he didn’t look at his cousin. ‘You will never overthrow my rule no matter what wild stories you fabricate.’
As he strode away Simdan’s cruel laughter followed him, but right now he had other things to worry about. Whatever it was Niesha was up to needed to be cut off. Tiffany didn’t deserve to be in the firing line of his problems.
* * *
As Jafar marched across the marble floor towards her Tiffany couldn’t help the sense of foreboding that filled her. The air had become heavy and tense as the few remaining guests stepped back to allow him past. It was as if a storm were brewing.
‘I have one last gift for my bride,’ he proclaimed to anyone who would listen, and around them curious glances were cast their way. He raised his hand in signal and a door opened to reveal Aaleyah and the most beautiful dog Tiffany had ever seen.
Then she realised what was happening. The dog was for her. Aaleyah smiled as she handed the lead to Tiffany, and even though she didn’t want to, she took it and stroked the softness of the dog’s head. It was a tall, lean animal, with sleek fur the colour of sand and the kindest eyes she’d ever seen. The eyes of a true friend.
‘I can’t have a dog.’ She looked up at Jafar, imploring him to understand. She wouldn’t be here long enough. It wasn’t fair to the dog.
‘It is a tradition started by my grandfather and one I have kept. It is a gift to show my commitment to my wife.’
She couldn’t do anything but accept the gift with everyone’s attention on her. Worse than that, there was that clause in the contract she’d signed, that if she revealed the truth about their marriage their deal would end. He’d have every right to take back all he’d given to Bethany and she couldn’t let that happen, not now her sister was finally looking more like herself again.
The giving of the gift also seemed to be the cue for everyone to leave and, after a long day of smiling and pretending, she was once more alone with Jafar with only the dog, who had settled at her feet as if they had known each other for years.
‘Her name is Leah.’ Jafar spoke as she looked down at the resting dog.
‘I can’t keep her, Jafar.’ She looked up at him as he stood over her, determined to resist the urge to stand so as not to allow him to know he intimidated her. ‘What will happen when I leave? It’s not fair to her.’
‘That is why I opted for an adult dog, not a puppy that would bond with you.’ His explanation didn’t help. It ripped her fragile heart to pieces. Was it the thought of the dog not missing her or Jafar planning for her departure?
‘You shouldn’t have got her at all.’
‘It is tradition. One I wish to continue. My grandfather gave my grandmother a Saluki.’
She stood up quickly, causing the dog to look up with questioning eyes. ‘If tradition is so important and forms such a part of our deal, I think you need to tell me a lot more than you did when we spoke in England.’
‘There is nothing more you need to know.’
‘If I am to keep accepting fertility gifts and symbols of love, then I think I need to know what is really going on. I need to know the truth of what is happening here between you and your cousin.’
Jafar sighed. ‘Very well, but not here.’
* * *
Jafar knew, now more than ever, he owed Tiffany the full story. She had become his wife in the true sense of the word and while their deal still stood she deserved to know everything, from the part she was playing to the threat Simdan posed to Shamsumara.
He took her hand and led her into the private royal gardens, aware that already Leah was following her new mistress. This discussion should really be done in complete privacy, but he didn’t trust himself not to give into the desire he still had for her, desire that should long ago have been sated but most definitely wasn’t. The next best place for a private discussion was his own gardens.
‘This is so beautiful.’ Her voice was a silky whisper of wonder and he clenched down on the desire he had to fight if he stood any chance of achieving what their deal had been about in the first place.
The lights from the palace reflected in the still waters of the pool and around the gardens lanterns burned, casting a soft yellow light. He ignored the image she created in her cream silk dress, which clung to her body, reminding him of how it had looked in the light from the lanterns on their wedding night. Leah stood calmly beside Tiffany, completing the picture of a Shamsumarian queen.
His Queen. His wife.
Enough.
‘This is where I always come to relax,’ he said as he walked beneath the tall arches and into the luxurious garden room.
‘I’m not here to relax,’ she said as she joined him, Leah at her heel. ‘I need to know what all this is about—this need to retain your kingdom.’
‘Sit,’ he commanded, smiling at the defiant tilt of her chin before she joined him on the array of colourful cushions. He was about to open himself up to a woman, to share his story with her, something he’d never done before, but after she’d shared something much more precious with him, he owed it to her.
‘What happened to your brother?’ Her question went right to the heart of his turmoil, threw open the door he’d tried to keep shut and brought back all the pain. He steadfastly refused to feel it and instead focused his attention on the woman he’d married as part of a deal.
He looked at her face, at the soulful expression in her blue eyes, and tried to deal with the memory of the day he’d learnt, not only had his brother lost his life, but his wife too. ‘Malek was a pilot and he and his wife were on their way to her homeland when a sandstorm brought them down.’
; ‘That is so sad.’ She lowered her gaze and he didn’t say anything about Simdan’s part in it, how he’d failed to let anyone know even though he’d heard of the disaster. If they had found them sooner maybe none of this would be happening, but then Tiffany would never have come into his life. He’d never have known the intense desire and pleasure from making her truly his wife.
He couldn’t think like that. It was a dangerous path to travel. ‘They were on their way to tell her parents they were to be grandparents. Their child would have secured Malek’s rule and Shamsumara’s future.’
Tiffany gasped and looked at him. ‘That is why you need to name your heir? To secure the future of your kingdom?’
‘In part, but also because now Simdan has a son, he could make a claim for my title if I had remained unmarried. Even though I am now married, that claim is still possible as I am without an heir. In three months’ time I will have an heir for the kingdom and his claim will no longer be possible.’
He wouldn’t say anything about the delicate situation they too were now in after their wedding night. He had no wish to distress her further. He would follow her lead and not mention the subject—at least until sufficient time had passed to be able to determine if she was expecting his child. He sincerely hoped it was not the case. He had no wish to be responsible for a child that would one day have to follow in his footsteps and become the ruler of Shamsumara. He knew only too well what it was to be brought up with that legacy hanging over you. If he’d felt that pressure as the spare heir, how must his brother have felt?
‘And if I remain here for three months, this will ensure your cousin can’t do anything to claim the throne.’
‘That is correct, but more importantly my people, my advisers, must believe the marriage is real. They must believe that you intend to remain my wife. That is why I gave you Leah. To add credibility to our union.’
At the mention of her name, Leah looked up at him, then, deciding there wasn’t anything to gain, laid her head on her paws once more and closed her eyes. Already she was faithful to her mistress.
‘There is one more thing I need to know.’ He sensed Tiffany’s trepidation.
‘Which is?’
‘What is between you and Niesha?’
Her question touched a raw nerve, and the sense of rejection after Niesha had shunned him for a better prospect came back to him. ‘Niesha and I were promised to one another from a young age, as is customary in Shamsumara. As the younger son, the one who was free to build his own business instead of ruling a country, I wasn’t good enough for her and she very quickly became engaged to my cousin when he became the ruler of Mirtiesa two years ago.’
‘There isn’t any history between you?’ He could tell from the way she asked that she’d picked up on the tension between them, tension that had been caused by one weak moment when he’d kissed Niesha soon after his brother’s death. She had consoled him, returned to being the sweet girl he’d always known and in a moment of weakness he’d taken her into his arms and kissed her. Niesha had responded but then his sense of duty had reared up like an angry stallion. He’d held her back from him and the smile on her face had told him it hadn’t been about any kind of desire for him; she’d been playing with him, seeing just how far he’d go against his sense of duty.
That kiss with Niesha had been nothing like the kisses he and Tiffany had shared either here in his palace or in Paris. Those kisses had been full of genuine desire and hot passion, not at all like the kiss that had proved beyond doubt just how scheming Niesha was and that he’d had a lucky escape.
‘No, there isn’t any history other than having been promised to one another by our respective families.’ It was pointless to enlarge on a kiss that had meant nothing, a kiss that should never have happened. He’d been at his lowest point and she’d used that to her advantage, suddenly seeing him as much more than a spare heir, a way to raise her own star.
‘So you don’t love her?’
‘Love is not a sentiment I have any need of, Tiffany. It is what weakens a man, takes his focus off life. My brother loved his wife.’ He cut the word off before he could say any more; her shocked expression left him in no doubt that, despite her claims as they’d talked at Damian’s wedding, she wanted love and happy ever afters. He’d have to dispel that notion. ‘Before I became the ruler of Shamsumara I put all my time and energy into my business. Women were just a pleasant distraction—and will remain so.’
‘What was your business?’
He looked at her for a moment, not able to work out if his change of topic, his harsh remark that implied she was nothing more than a distraction, had been warning enough to her that she shouldn’t expect any kind of love or affection from him. Her question showed him she could play the game of evasion every bit as well as him. ‘You said you were the younger son who was free to build his own business.’
‘I run a civil engineering company. Or rather it is currently in the capable hands of my newly appointed CEO.’
‘Sounds impressive.’
‘That discussion is for another day. It’s getting late,’ he said softly, and again the need to kiss her, to hold her close, rushed over him. He needed to send her away before he gave into the urge and gave her the wrong idea about them and their marriage. ‘I will bid you goodnight.’
CHAPTER NINE
FOR THE LAST two weeks, Tiffany had absorbed herself in the work she was expected to do while living in Shamsumara as Jafar’s Queen, desperate to push aside her ever deepening feelings for a man who just saw her as a convenient bride. On the night she and Jafar had talked after the feast of gifts, he’d made it perfectly clear love was not an emotion he wanted in his life. Lust and desire were all he needed, which was exactly what Niesha had alluded to.
Since that night, Jafar had been noticeable by his absence in her new daily routine, but the process of helping women who were struggling to bring up children alone, for whatever reason, made her feel closer to Bethany. She’d talked on the phone, even had video calls, but she missed her and little Kelly terribly. Maybe she was much more homesick than she’d anticipated. It would certainly explain how emotional she’d become over the last few days.
She missed Jafar and it was more than missing the intimacy of the sex they’d shared. She missed him, missed talking with him, laughing with him. She missed the man he became when he let his guard drop in the privacy of their suite, missed him so much it made her heart ache.
She’d fallen for him. It was far more than attraction, deeper than desire. It was love. She’d fallen in love with a man who openly confessed to, not only being unable to love, but not wanting love in his life. It was an emotion he scorned.
Why had she allowed herself to fall for him, to get emotionally close to him? It was this increasing emotion, the deepening of her love, which had made her insist she slept alone from now on. The sooner she cut the tie of attraction between them, the better. She didn’t mean anything to him and it would be unwise to get more involved. The only thing that mattered was the deal they’d struck.
Even the charity work she’d chosen to do while in Shamsumara didn’t matter to Jafar and he had warned her about becoming too involved with those she was helping. It was almost a double standard when he’d given her the gift of a beautiful dog, which now lay at the side of her bed, waiting for her to start the day. Apart from Leah’s presence, she had been alone in this bedroom since she’d rashly declared a desire to sleep alone. For two weeks her body had longed for the pleasure that Jafar’s could give, as if they were made to be as one. Two whole weeks without him. Two whole weeks of torture.
A sinking realisation slipped over her and with a gasp she sat up, frantically running dates through her mind, but each time she came to the same shocking conclusion. She was late. She covered her face with her hands, beating back the tears that threatened. Was that why her emotions were all over the place?
She was pregnant.
She was pregnant with the child of a man who’d o
penly admitted he had no intention of ever being a father and had gone to extreme lengths to ensure he retained the kingdom he’d inherited from his late brother. He’d made sure he had the heir he required to safeguard that kingdom without the need to become a father himself, then he had hired her as his bride, negating the need to commit himself long-term to marriage.
She thought of all she’d learnt about him the night they’d talked openly, the night she’d fallen a little more in love with the man who hid behind the tough exterior of control. He’d never allowed her that close again, never let her see his guard down since that night. He had already distanced himself from the bride he’d hired, the bride he wanted to leave Shamsumara once they had been married for three months.
Could it be possible that she now carried his child? His heir?
Then the full horror of the situation hit her. Where did that leave her now? Alone and pregnant back in England? Forced to stay here with a man who’d never intended their marriage to last beyond two years? What if he sent her away after the baby was born but insisted the baby grew up in Shamsumara? Fearful thoughts made her weak, made her unsure if she wanted to cry or scream in frustration.
What she needed to do was establish if her fears were true. She needed a pregnancy test, but how did the Queen of a desert kingdom obtain that? Could she confide in Aaleyah? As soon as that idea had come to her, she dismissed it. Sweet as she seemed, Aaleyah was loyal to Jafar and her homeland. If she told her maid, then very soon Jafar would know and right now she needed to keep her suspicions from him—until she’d decided what to do. Her mind spun, making her feel light-headed with worry.
How could she have compromised herself so easily?
Passion, desire and growing love for Jafar.
The answer drifted around in her increasingly dizzy head but she couldn’t think about that now; she had to find out if she was expecting Jafar’s child.
Hired to Wear the Sheikh's Ring Page 11