‘How? Why?’ she said, stammering slightly over the words.
‘Because you are right,’ he said as he whirled round to face her. He could at least say these words to her face—the beautiful face he would never forget. ‘We should never have got married and divorce is, as you suggested, the only option.’
He watched the soft skin of her throat, skin his lips had caressed, move as she gulped back her shock. Her eyes widened. She took a step towards him, her hand almost reaching out, then she snapped it back against her stomach, as if she too was in pain. She nodded her head slowly, the sun gleaming in her raven-black hair, and stepped back several paces. Back and away from him, he felt her retreat, felt it in the tight band that crushed his chest, threatening to suffocate him.
‘Divorce,’ she said firmly. ‘Of course. It is the only option and the one I wanted that very first night you found me in Paris.’
It was what he now had to do. Recent discussion with his officials, those who helped him rule his country, had made his options clear. He had to let her go. ‘We have no choice in the matter now, Amber.’
‘We don’t?’ Her delicate brows drew together in confusion.
He sighed, wishing she could at least, just once, own up to her lies and deceit.
‘Not any more.’ He let the words hang between them, waited as the stillness of the garden captured them. He saw her lips form the word ‘why’, but didn’t hear it. She was speechless with shock. Just as when he’d been told what he should do, but now he had to be firm, use a hard voice, anything to keep at bay the fire of desire that raged inside him.
‘Your past has caught up with you.’ Every muscle in his body tightened as he said the words that would finish their marriage for ever.
‘My what?’ She flung the question at him full force.
‘It has come to the attention of officials here at the palace exactly where you worked whilst you were in Paris.’ He fought hard to keep his voice calm, still humiliated from being told just what she’d been up to. She’d made a fool of him.
‘I was a waitress!’ she said, interrupting his explanation—one he still found hard to believe, but the evidence had been put before him. The decision was no longer only his. He was now doing his duty. As the only heir to Barazbin, he had no option, no other choice. They couldn’t remain married and that was before he took her activities with her father into consideration.
‘I have told them exactly that. I defended you, Amber.’ Strangely, after every lie had been exposed, he did believe she had only been waitressing.
‘Why?’ Her voice was hardly above a whisper as she spoke.
‘That I can handle. That I can sort. But it is not just that, Amber,’ he said quietly, unable to believe how events had unfolded since their return from the desert. There, as the wind had calmed its fury, he’d thought they had made a truce. But he’d been wrong. ‘It is your involvement with the rebels—you knew that attack was going to happen.’
She shook her head fiercely. ‘No, not that. I don’t know anything about it.’
‘That is not what the evidence suggests,’ he said and walked towards her, unable to help himself. He balled his hands into fists at his sides, trying to keep from touching her. Her gaze darted to the movement then back to his face, questions lingering in her eyes.
‘B-but...’ she stammered then shook her head as if knowing that any form of defence would be useless.
‘I want you to go, leave Barazbin. Divorce is the only option and, for my people to consider that, they must have more than sufficient evidence against you.’ He couldn’t forgive her part in the rebel attacks. She had to go. The marriage had to end.
‘So, I am no longer fit to be your princess,’ she said haughtily. ‘No longer fit to be the mother of the heir of Barazbin and all because of lies. Lies that aren’t mine, Kazim.’
‘I can’t forgive what you have done to my people. There is no way back from that.’ He clenched his jaw against the hurt of her betrayal, wanting only to have her gone from his kingdom and his life.
She shook her head. ‘It’s lies—all lies.’
He couldn’t say anything to that and closed his eyes briefly against the tidal wave of strange emotions that crashed against him, demanding his attention. When he did open his eyes she was watching him, her face marred by confusion. Once again he’d hurt her, but this time it really was out of a sense of duty instead of the cowardly panic that had seized him on their wedding night.
‘Is this your duty too, Kazim?’ she said tartly, her chin lifting in defiance, making her more elegant than ever. ‘Are you following orders or do you hate me that much?’
‘I don’t hate you, Amber,’ he said more softly and gripped his hands harder into tight fists. He mustn’t weaken his resolve. He had to be firm and tell her. ‘Your reputation has been brought into question and against that I stood firmly with you. As for the rest, there isn’t any choice; you might as well have attacked me personally. I have to do my duty, honour my kingdom. I cannot defend what you did, not ever.’
‘Cannot or will not?’ She glared at him, her eyes sparking with gold, highlighting her anger.
‘We both know our marriage isn’t a love match and, in light of current circumstances, it can’t go on.’ Now he sounded just like those men who had informed him, as his father looked on, that he must get rid of his wife. Cold and unyielding.
He didn’t want to send her away; he wanted her to stay. He’d glimpsed last night what they could have had, how it could have been. But that was over now. He could never forgive her involvement in the attacks, however small it might have been. All he wanted was to see her leave—right now.
* * *
Amber crumbled inside, her heart shattering into tiny shards that threatened to lacerate every part of her body. A body that craved Kazim, even now. She couldn’t move, couldn’t say a word. Shock had rooted her to the spot as surely as if she were one of the plants around her, and the hot sun beat down relentlessly, sapping every last bit of strength from her.
She shook her head, denying what was blatantly obvious. He didn’t want her and was probably glad of that final bit of evidence that had condemned her and their marriage. He’d even organised a plane to get her away from him as fast as possible. This was worse—far worse—than what he’d done to her on their wedding night. This was more than rejection. It was total annihilation of her and the love she had for him.
She closed her eyes against the memory of the moment she’d told him she loved him. Love is a fool’s indulgence. His words haunted her and she snapped her eyes open. She couldn’t go there now. Not yet. Not while he still stood watching her. Did he have no mercy at all?
‘If you’ll excuse me, I need to pack.’ He looked startled at her words. But what had he expected her to do? Beg and plead? Why should she when he couldn’t even defend her against the decision of his officials? He hadn’t even waited to hear her side of the story. He’d just decided she was guilty, believing those around him instead. ‘I will be ready to leave in an hour.’
More like five minutes. The thought of staying for an hour almost knocked her breath away, but she needed time alone to compose herself, to regroup her emotions. If she was leaving she would do it with her head held high. Whatever charges had been made against her, she was innocent and she would leave this beautiful palace with as much dignity as possible.
‘Very well,’ he said then turned and marched away, his white robes seeming to trail after him. She watched him go, his fast pace suggesting he couldn’t get away from her quickly enough. Finally he disappeared into the grand archway that led to his offices. Was he now reporting back to those who’d believed she was little better than a traitor?
* * *
True to her word, one hour later Kazim watched as Amber walked from the palace to the waiting car. Her face was a mask, hiding all her e
motions. Her body, now dressed in jeans and a soft white blouse, seemed to call to his and he gritted his teeth against the stab of desire that raced through him, reminding him of the hours they’d spent making love.
Desire would not rule his country. Strong will and determination would. It was his destiny, his duty, and Amber was not and never should have been part of it.
She stopped by the car and turned to face him as he stood on the steps of the palace. He kept his eyes hard as he looked into hers, glad of the distance that now prevented him from reaching for her. That tightness clamped a little harder round his chest as her eyes met his and for a moment it was as if it was only them, nobody else existed.
This wasn’t helping at all. ‘Goodbye, Amber.’
She didn’t say anything. She just looked at him, head held high, body full of regal composure. Then she slipped her sunglasses on and for a moment longer watched him before getting into the car.
The driver shut the door; the noise, though hardly audible, banged in Kazim’s head painfully. He remained tall and strong, not wanting anyone to know the agony that stabbed at him now, as if someone was actually putting a knife into his heart.
The car moved away from the palace; the darkened windows meant it wasn’t possible to see Amber, to see if she felt the knife too. But why would she, when she’d wanted to leave all along? He took a deep breath and the pain intensified. Deep down he knew why, but he couldn’t admit it now. Not whilst those who’d exposed her lies stood watching nearby. He had to remain focused. He had a duty to his people, his country and, as hard as it was to admit, to his father. Anything else was unthinkable.
CHAPTER TWELVE
SUMMER IN PARIS was nowhere near as hot as Barazbin, but relief from the heat scarcely made up for the pain in her heart. For two whole days Amber had given into despair and had stayed in the flat, not wanting food, not wanting anything other than Kazim. Finally, sense had prevailed.
This morning she had thrown open the windows of the flat, sounds from the streets below filtering in. Spurred on by the fact that Annie and Claude would soon be home, she’d set about bringing life back to the tired rooms.
Next she moved onto the task she’d been putting off—unpacking. She was back from Barazbin for good and it was past time to sort through everything she’d hastily packed a few days earlier. As she reached into the bottom of the case, her fingers touched the red silk of her abaya—the one she’d been wearing on that last night with Kazim, the one she’d allowed herself to bring home so that she could remember him.
Each time she saw that silk it would either take her back to the moments when he’d coldly accused her of lying, or to the moment when he’d seductively removed every trace of it from her body before making her his, one last time.
As if in slow motion she stood and lifted the garment up against her. She inhaled deeply, smelling the desert—and Kazim.
Why did she have to love him so intensely and so painfully?
That night in the desert had been a mixture of anguish and ecstasy. He’d refused to acknowledge her love, but his body had welcomed it. Then it had all changed by the time they’d returned to the palace. He’d become cold and distant.
She closed her eyes against the memory of the moment she’d left the palace. He’d been like a statue, firm and resolute. He had no emotion for her, not even sympathy, and she’d been forced to retreat behind her sunglasses as tears had welled in her eyes. Tears she would never let him see.
When he’d told her why she had to go it was obvious he was saying it out of duty. He was ending their marriage because of duty to his kingdom.
Well, so be it. He’d made his choice, one that was probably for the best. After all, she’d made it clear from the start she hadn’t wanted to return to Barazbin. All that existed between them was passion. Her love for him had to stay buried. She had to think of it as a love affair, a wild and passionate few days that had come to an end.
It was time to move on.
There had been no word from him since she’d left. Nothing. Over the last few days she had come to accept that what they’d shared had been driven by lust—certainly on Kazim’s part. Lust that had burnt itself out, finally overridden by duty.
But hadn’t he married her out of duty? She frowned. If duty had been his motivation wouldn’t he have wanted the marriage to work? Her head felt heavy with confusion. Even when she wasn’t with him he could still muddle everything.
‘Enough!’ She spoke firmly to her reflection as she brushed her hair and scraped it up into a ponytail.
She needed to focus her attention on more important matters. In a few days Annie and Claude would be back. Her life could return to normal and the last few weeks would fade into a dreamlike status.
But it isn’t what I want. She pulled hard to tighten her ponytail but the sudden jolt of pain wasn’t nearly as sharp as the one that ripped through her heart each time she thought of Kazim.
She closed her eyes against that pain. This is the last time. You have to move on. She opened her eyes and glared at her reflection. ‘Stop this.’
There would be time enough to sort the unpacking tomorrow. Right now she felt enclosed; the short amount of time back in the desert had reminded her to be appreciative of space—and right now that was what she needed.
As if on a mission, she grabbed her bag and, feeling slightly liberated, opened the door of the flat, humming as she quickly went down the stairs. It was gloomy in the corridor but sunlight streamed in as soon as she opened the old door that Kazim had been so disgusted with.
‘Oh!’ she gasped, shock hurtling at her, and stepped back a pace. Had her imagination just done that? She blinked a few times and looked again. Kazim was standing on the street, a few steps below her, as large as life.
‘What have you come for this time? You’ve already made it clear that our marriage is over,’ she snapped angrily at him. How dare he come back and upset the delicate balance she’d finally managed to achieve?
He moved towards her, his casual Western clothes allowing him to blend in with everyone on the street—almost. The wild untamed power he’d always radiated was still evident and his shiny black hair and handsome features meant he would never completely blend in; even in Barazbin he’d stood out. Just as he had when he’d found her at the club. The aura of power that surrounded him was undeniable.
Neither was she immune to him. Her heart rate accelerated, racing wildly, and, although she tried to tell herself it was nothing more than the trauma of seeing him on her doorstep, she knew it was him. Her husband.
She cursed herself for not being stronger. But how could she quash her love for him? It was almost impossible, even when it was obvious that he would never love in return.
‘We need to talk, Amber.’ Eyes as black as midnight slipped quickly down her body and she fought hard against the sensation of tingles, as if he’d actually touched her. Did he have to do that, look at her with hot desire in his eyes whilst his voice sounded so aloof?
‘I don’t think so, Kazim.’ A prickle of indignation ran down her spine and she stood taller, thankful for her position above him on the steps. It made her feel in charge. In control. ‘You’ve said it all.’
‘No.’ He moved up a step. Closer to her, but still leaving her able to look down on him. ‘No, I said only what I should have said, what it was my duty to say.’
She fumbled absently with the strap of her handbag and scrunched her eyes in confusion. Why did he have to talk in riddles all the time? Couldn’t he just say what he needed and go?
What it was my duty to say. The words sank in, seeping into her heart, and she knew she couldn’t allow him to soften her mood. She shook her head in denial.
‘Can we go inside, Amber?’ he said as he looked at his watch, the movement snagging her attention. ‘I only have a short time.’
; That admission annoyed her more than she cared to admit. Once she’d left his palace she’d never thought she’d have to face him again and now here he was, demanding time with her and setting boundaries once again.
‘So in that short time you thought you’d just stop by and upset my life all over again, did you?’
He looked shamefaced as she glared down at him and her fingers suddenly gripped tightly onto her handbag as if it were a lifeline. Then his eyes met hers and he moved up a step, bringing them level with one another, and she felt the balance slightly shift.
Nothing else seemed to exist; the daily sounds of life in Paris became muted, her mind focused totally on him.
‘We can’t discuss this here,’ he said, his voice deep and firm. ‘Let’s go inside.’
‘Sorry, Kazim, I have nothing to say to you.’ She tried hard to sound upbeat and happy, when really she was dissolving inside. ‘All communication should now be through my solicitor.’
‘Do you have a solicitor?’ His voice rose in question, his eyes glittering like ice crystals in the winter sun.
‘Not yet.’ She growled the words at him, angry that he could even think he could turn up and try to undermine her.
‘Then how can I communicate with your solicitor?’
‘Don’t be facetious.’ Was he making fun of her, tormenting her on a new level? She could hardly control the buzz of attraction that raced through her, mixing with the hurt and anger at his continued rejection of her.
‘Amber...’ He reached out to take her arm and she jumped back, scalded by the very thought of his touch.
‘Don’t, Kazim, don’t. In fact, just go.’ She turned and opened the door of the flat, all thought of her earlier decision to go out and shop gone. She needed to escape him and the way his gaze, so dark and lingering, still affected her. All she wanted was to lock the door against him and her marriage.
‘Not until you’ve heard what I have to say and if it means saying it here on the street, I will.’ His words were low but steely, firm with determination, and she knew she had little choice left.
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