by Cara Albany
Dakota glanced at Zariq. "Have you seen the list of questions?"
He frowned. "Why would I do that?"
Dakota drew in a sharp breath and sighed. "Just so we know that nothing is going to make us feel awkward in front of the camera."
Dakota saw Elena stare at her as if she couldn't believe what the sheikh's new wife had just said. "With your experience as a model, Dakota, I hardly think you'll feel uncomfortable in front of the camera." Elena took a step toward Dakota and Zariq. "I mean, look at yesterday. You looked beautiful and incredibly confident with all those TV cameras pointing at you. I don't think you'll be fazed by anything I could ask you."
Dakota shook her head. "Still. I'd like to see any list of questions you have." She lifted a brow. "I presume you have a list."
Elena's eyes flashed with a hint of indignation in them. She looked at Zariq as if seeking some help. When Dakota glanced at her husband , she saw there wouldn't be any such help for Elena. That calmed Dakota's nerves, even if only a little.
Elena went to her shoulder bag and fished out a sheaf of papers. She handed them to Dakota. "This is what I was planning to ask," she explained.
"Mind if I take a few minutes to look through these?" she asked Elena.
Now looking annoyed, and not even trying to hide that fact, Elena waved dismissively. "Of course. Take as long as you like."
Dakota pulled away from Zariq. "You want to join me in the other room and look these over?"
Zariq glanced at Elena. Dakota knew he could feel the tension between the two women. "Sure. We can go to the library."
Dakota made her way to the library with Zariq following close behind. He shut the double doors behind him and came to the table she'd sat at. All his former calm had evaporated the second the doors were closed. "Why are you doing this?"
She gasped and watched as he sat on the seat opposite her. "Because I'm not going to let myself be humiliated while the cameras are live. Surely you understand that."
Zariq sighed heavily. "She won't do anything to make us look bad, if that's what you mean."
"How do you know that?"
He tilted his head and peered at Dakota. "Because I know what's she's like. Elena is a professional. She won't do anything to embarrass us."
"Really? And you think that because you once dated her?" she snapped.
He frowned. "What's that got to do with it?"
"You and her seemed pretty friendly out there," she retorted. "And how come it took you both so long to come into the palace when she arrived? What were you both talking about?"
He looked incredulously at her. For a moment he seemed lost for words. "It's just a TV interview," he gasped, clearly surprised at Dakota's sudden change in attitude.
"There's no such thing as just a TV interview, Zariq. She wants a story. I can tell."
"You think she believes this marriage is fake?" he asked.
"Isn't it?" she replied sharply.
The silence hung between them for a few long moments. He peered at her and she could see he was trying to make up his mind what to say next.
Dakota glanced down at the sheets of paper. "I just don't want any surprises," she exclaimed as she flicked through the sheets, scanning the typed words. As she did so, she felt indignation swell inside her. The more she read, the worse she felt. Question after question was increasingly intrusive. Elena had tried to make the whole interview seem like a pleasant chat. However, as she read the list of questions, Dakota knew that the journalist had come to the palace with an entirely different agenda.
Dakota gasped and flashed a look at Zariq. She slid the papers across to him. "Read these," she instructed. "Then tell me I was wrong."
She watched as Zariq scanned the pages. She saw his brows furrow with each passing moment. When he was finished, he looked up at Dakota. His former annoyance had been replaced by a gentler look. "Seems like I owe you an apology," he said in an even voice. He tapped one finger on the papers. "This isn't what she told me it would be."
"You spoke to her about this?" Dakota asked sharply.
He nodded. "Outside. When she arrived. She tried to make it all seem like she was just coming to get some nice quotes and happy smiles from us." He frowned. "But, from this, it's clear she had other ideas."
"Maybe some revenge?" Dakota prompted.
"Revenge for what?" Zariq replied, his eyes narrowing.
"For the fact that I married you. And not Elena?" Dakota said.
Zariq cleared his throat. "She wouldn't do that."
"Really?" Dakota retorted. "Seems to me like she hasn't forgotten you two were once an item."
His brows furrowed. "We were never an item, as you call it," he scoffed. "We just went out a few times and she came back to the palace. Once."
Dakota stared at him. "She was here?" she asked.
Zariq straightened in his chair and averted his eyes from Dakota. She saw his jaw tighten. Maybe he hadn't meant to reveal that juicy little nugget of truth, Dakota told herself. She tried to convince herself it wasn't important anyway. That she wasn't surprised to learn that the woman currently waiting out there on the terrace had once been in the sheikh's bed. And in the palace which was now Dakota's home.
In spite of herself, she felt emotion swirl through her at the thought. She knew she shouldn't care. That she should be able to ignore this discovery. But she couldn't. And why that was, she wasn't able to understand. Not right now.
Zariq turned to face Dakota. There was a seriousness in his gaze now. "Elena and I were nothing to each other, Dakota," he murmured. "You have to believe that."
"Why should I?"
"Because it's the truth. You know what my life was like before we married," he said. "I didn't hide any of it from you."
"You hid this," she said sharply. "What other surprises do I have waiting?"
"What do you want me to tell you?" he asked. His brows furrowed and there was a sudden darkness in his gaze. "You want me to give you a list?"
Even as he uttered the words, she felt the harshness of them. I was unusual for him to look at her like that, let alone speak to her in that tone of voice. He seemed offended. Maybe he had every right to be. After all, hadn't he said that his marriage to Dakota was only one of convenience? An arrangement? Only because his father had ordered it after choosing Dakota from a list of his own.
"Let's just forget this," she suggested. "I'm calling this interview off."
"Why?"
Dakota peered at Zariq. "Because I don't trust her," Dakota said. She glanced at the papers. "And she isn't going to start asking me about my past. Or the real reasons why I married you."
"Why did you marry me?" he asked abruptly.
"What!" she gasped.
He leaned forward. His gaze was intense now. "You never told me. Apart from the fact that you appeared on a list of acceptable candidates, you still haven't told me why you agreed to it in the first place." He frowned. "I mean, you didn't have to go along with it."
"Maybe I feel a connection with my ancestors," she suggested. "Maybe I did it to honor my great, great grandfather. If it hadn't have been for him, I wouldn't even be sitting here."
He lifted a skeptical brow. "Nothing to do with my wealth? My status as a Qazhar royal?"
She glared at him. "You think I did this for the money? For the privilege?" Her voice shook with emotion. "What do you think I am?"
He didn't reply to that question. He simply gazed at her, his eyes darkly penetrating and completely unconvinced by her words.
Dakota stood and went to the window. She folded her arms. "I want her to leave."
She heard his chair scrape on the marble floor. He came to stand alongside her. "If you're not my wife for the benefits, then maybe you'd like to show everyone just how much Qazhar means to you."
She turned and faced him. "What do you mean?"
His dark eyes peered at her, examining her intently. "Why don't we show our journalist friend just how much you love my country. I'm sure that wil
l persuade more people than a mere interview filled with lies."
"Who is lying?"
Zariq took hold of her shoulders. The design of her dress included cut away shoulders. She felt the power of his touch, the way his fingers curled into her flesh. "This could be your chance to show everyone just what it means to you to be the wife of a Qazhar sheikh."
"How?" she asked, wide-eyed.
She saw his lips curl into a sardonic smile. "We can arrange some public displays of your love for my country." His gaze darkened. "Our country. Perhaps we can arrange some visits to the Children's Hospital in Qazhar city. I'm sure people will be impressed with your charity, if you do that." His nostrils flared as he dragged in a deep breath. "Maybe you could visit some of the elderly people who did so much to make this country what it has become."
At first, she wasn't sure whether he was being serious. But then she heard the depth of emotion in his voice. Of course he was being serious, she told herself. He was talking about the country he loved.
He leaned his head even closer. Now she could feel his breath against her cheeks. His mouth was close enough that, if he wished, he could lean in and kiss her. Her mind was filled with warring thoughts. Right now, she wasn't sure she could resist him if he decided to do that.
"Then, everyone will think you are the most wonderful woman in Qazhar," he murmured. "When they see how good you are. How kind you are to the less fortunate."
Suddenly, there was acid in his voice. He wasn't being kind to her now. She could tell that. Now he was trying to mock her. She tried to pull away, but he held her in his grasp. She peered into his eyes, defiance in her gaze. It seemed to trigger an instantaneous reaction in him.
Suddenly, he dipped his head and his lips crashed down upon hers. She gasped as sensation flooded her body. He drew her against him, crushing her breasts against his hard chest. His tongue probed her with sudden, unstoppable hunger. She moaned and felt pleasure sweep through her. Her entire body softened against him, a surprising and perplexing submission overtaking her. His lips were demanding, seeking pleasure, giving pleasure. Of course she had kissed him before this moment. But not like this. She wondered where the sudden need had come from.
Then, as suddenly as he had begun, he lifted his head away from her and gazed down into her eyes. She could see primal need in his eyes. Hesitation flickered in his gaze and he turned away from her. He ran his hand through his dark hair. He had lost control. As had she. Her breathing began to slow as she regained her composure.
"I'll tell her to go," Zariq announced. Then he moved quickly to the door. Before she had a chance to reply, he had closed the door behind him with a resounding thud.
CHAPTER FIVE
"I need a break from all of this," Dakota said flopping down on the sofa in one of the palace's sitting rooms. She kicked her shoes off and stretched herself out. Zariq's gaze was captured by the pale skin of her legs and bare feet. The light green dress just seemed to set off the tone of her skin to perfection. It was early evening and they'd just returned from Qazhar city.
From another public appearance. The latest in a seemingly endless line of them.
He sat down on the sofa opposite her. "I told you, being a celebrity royal would be hard work," he said.
She lifted a brow and twisted the corner of her mouth. "That's all you think I am? A celebrity royal?"
He laughed and shook his head. "I'm only repeating what I saw in the newspapers this morning. That's what they're calling you."
She sighed. "I don't know whether to be flattered or insulted."
"I think they mean it as a compliment. You saw how people reacted this morning. They love you," he said.
"No they don't," she scoffed. "I'm a curiosity. They'll soon get bored with me."
"I don't see any sign of that," he replied. "If anything, things are hotting up."
She peered at him as if she had detected some kind of extra meaning in what he'd just said. But, he'd meant it innocently. "As I said. It''ll calm down eventually."
"So, my idea was good?" he asked.
"To do all these appearances? I guess so," she said shrugging.
"You look a whole lot more comfortable now than you did when you started all of this. In fact, you're starting to look like an expert at all this."
She smiled at him. "Thanks," she said without the slightest hint of irony. "All that modeling experience can finally be put to some good use."
"And you're bringing people's attention to different parts of Qazhar life," he said. "That can't be a bad thing." He leaned forward. "You're starting to look like you belong here."
She examined him for a few moments. Maybe she was trying to tell if he was teasing her. He'd done plenty of that in recent weeks. "Considering what you said to me a few weeks ago, that's quite a comment."
He lowered his head slightly and gazed at her from beneath hooded brows. "I knew you'd step up to the plate like this. Maybe you just needed a little push."
She tilted her head. "From you?"
He nodded. "Who else?"
For a few moments they gazed at each other. He wondered what she was going to say to that. But, in the end, she said nothing. She shook her head and leaned back against the sofa, gazing up at the slowly revolving ceiling fans. "I just need to close my eyes for a while."
Zariq knew what he'd just said was true. He'd never seen such affection for a public figure in Qazhar. His wife was truly the one person everyone wanted to see. As far as Zariq was concerned, his job was to stand by her side and just smile. Which was exactly what he'd done at every one of the public events they'd arranged in the three weeks since their wedding.
It was becoming a regular occurrence for them to leave the palace in the morning and attend some function or other. Two weeks ago they'd opened a brand new office complex. Cutting tape had never been so much fun, Zariq told himself. They'd attended the opening of a new medical center last week. And this afternoon, they'd paid a visit to one of the most successful businesses in Qazhar. All of these visits had been accompanied by a large group of journalists eager to capture images of the Qazhar's currently favorite couple.
And, Zariq had to admit, Dakota had coped admirably with every one of the events. At least on the surface. She'd smiled for the cameras, said just the right words, and shook hands with anyone who managed to get close enough.
Zariq had to acknowledge one simple fact. His new American wife was famous and incredibly popular. And none of that had been down to him. Of course, Zariq had pulled some strings behind the scenes to arrange the public appearances. And he had employed a very organized woman who attended very efficiently to all the finer details. All he had to do was accompany his beautiful wife in public and make sure everyone believed that all was perfection in the Al Kharif palace.
Of course, he knew the truth. Everything was far from perfect in private. After the day he'd kissed her, before canceling the interview with Elena, Dakota had kept her distance from him. It had been as if the very act of kissing Dakota had caused her to erect an even bigger barrier between herself and Zariq.
This had puzzled him ever since. Hadn't she reacted with the same intensity of passion he'd felt? He'd been sure that the kiss would have changed something between them. But he'd been wrong. So very wrong.
He gazed across at Dakota, relishing the sight of her pretty features. Her eyes were closed for the moment, and her breathing had slowed to a steady rhythm. He watched her chest rise and fall and felt an all too familiar tightness in his body. He could see the fullness of her breasts beneath the thin fabric of her dress. He took in the sight of her graceful, long neck and the gentle tumble of blonde hair settling at her shoulders.