But he could never love her the way that she loved him. So, she had to blink back tears as he lowered his head to kiss her, sealing their wedding vows.
Tarin brushed his lips against Zuri’s mouth, furious that she would cry at their wedding. How the hell had he messed up this badly?
But he knew! He hadn’t courted her, shown her how much she meant to him. And now they were married. He could never convince her to fall in love with him now. They were married and she’d follow all of the protocols for a married woman. He was confident that she would take to being queen unlike any woman that had come before her. She was beautiful and elegant. Her stubbornness would help her in her new role.
But she’d never fall in love with him.
“I believe a wedding feast has been created for us,” he announced, turning to announce this news to the guests more than telling Zuri. He couldn’t look at her, couldn’t bear to see the sadness in her eyes or witness the regret lurking there.
He wanted to make her happy, to give her everything. But he couldn’t make her love him. Not the way he loved her. And that was crushing him.
The rest of the guests left, moving into the main dining room. There weren’t a lot of people here today. All of his advisors and top council members, plus several friends had dropped everything to be here for the wedding ceremony. The press had been informed, but not invited. He’d wanted this to be a private ceremony.
Kazan, his friend and the Sheik of Rian, the country to his north, stepped closer, slapping Tarin on the back. The man was big and strong, but Tarin had battled with him and knew how to take him down.
“This is supposed to be a celebration, old man,” Kazan teased, the scar near his eye crinkling as he joked. “Why do you look as if you’re about to be murdered?”
Tarin rolled his eyes. “Next poker game, I’m bankrupting your country,” he warned.
Kazan threw back his head and laughed. “As if you could,” he teased, then walked away with the others.
Jabril stood there as well, the lovely Ilara tugging at his arm in an effort to get him to move along and stop glaring. Tarin nodded to his friend and new brother-in-law, acknowledging that things weren’t perfect, but he’d fixed them adequately.
Jabril nodded as well. Thankfully, he dropped the angry posture and moved forward, offering his hand. “Congratulations,” he said grimly. “Don’t make her cry!” he growled. And then Jabril was gone.
The only other person lingering was another member of their poker group. Mika, the Sheik of Stilan, sauntered forward, his eyes narrowed. “Congratulations,” he offered, extending his hand. As usual, Mika was the most reserved of the group. The most analytical and the most devilish. He was leaner, but by no means less lethal. The man could hold his own among the four of them, both at poker and on the sparring mats.
Today, all mischief was gone from his expression. “Congratulations Tarin. I wish you all the best.” And then he walked away, but not before his thin, hard lips curled upwards, as if he knew a secret that the others hadn’t quite figured out.
“You’re wrong,” Tarin called out.
Mika turned and looked at the two of them and Tarin couldn’t wait for their next poker night so he could win his money.
The other man shook his head. “I’m never wrong,” and he turned, heading out of the room.
Tarin stared at him, chuckling slightly. He was right – the man was never wrong. His analytical mind was a force to be reckoned with in the world. But Tarin, Jabril and Kazan weren’t slouches in that area either. They’d figured out Mika’s “tells”, although none of them would give that secret away.
“Your poker buddies have an odd sense of humor,” Zuri muttered beside him.
He looked down at her, wondering what she thought of his friends. “They’re good men. Jayce, Oz and Ryker send their regrets about not being able to attend.” The three, dangerous men were out in the world doing things that most people couldn’t even imagine. The men and their teams were like super heroes and MacGyver, all mixed into one man. There was also Sebastian Hughes, owner of one of the largest banks in the world. He sent his regrets as well. His adorable daughter Chloe had come down with a stomach bug and he wanted to be by her side.
She looked up at him and his muscles relaxed when he didn’t find any sign of tears in her eyes now. “I know they are. You and the others have been playing poker together for years.” She shrugged daintily. “I don’t know why you guys play every month. All of you seem to lose one month, then win your money back the next month. It seems a bit pointless to me.”
He chuckled and tucked her hand onto his arm. “Money isn’t the point, my dear,” he explained as he led her over to the area where the photographer wanted them to pose for their official wedding pictures.
“I thought the point of poker is to win money,” she replied, gritting her teeth when he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in close. Exactly where she wanted to be, but under the circumstances, it was a painful trial to stand here and not react.
“The point is winning. Beating one’s friends.”
“Why would you want to beat your friends? Why not just have a glass of wine and talk?”
“Because that’s not what men do. When we can’t battle on the field, we compete at other things, such as poker.”
“Ah, so it’s a way to make you feel like a man?”
He pinched her as punishment and she giggled, the sound coming out freer than she felt. But it also felt good to relax, even for a moment.
“Don’t be impertinent. Men win when we can’t beat each other up. It’s a more productive use of our skills and sharpens our minds.”
“Oh, so your mind is weak. I understand now,” she teased.
“Watch it,” he growled, his hand sliding down to her bottom in a threatening manner.
Zuri giggled again and shifted slightly, trying to keep his hand away from her derriere. But he was persistent and incorrigible. Besides, after days of stress, the laughter felt good.
The photographs took forever! But finally, they were able to move into the dining area and were greeted by applause. Zuri felt like a bit of a fraud because of the circumstances, but she pushed it aside and focused on her role as the beaming bride, smiling during the toasts and the traditional wedding dance, greeting each guest by name since she’d taken the time to memorize everyone’s names and faces and then sitting for a brief interview to introduce herself to the media and the country. By the time they were allowed to leave the gathering, she was exhausted.
“I’m just going to sit down for a moment,” she told Tarin as she sank gratefully down into the soft cushions of the couch in his apartment. She recognized the comfortable furniture from the last time she’d been here…that time felt like a long time ago. That had probably been when she’d conceived this child, she thought, startled and a bit awed.
Tarin pulled his jacket off, and tossed it onto the back of a chair. Zuri slipped her shoes off and rubbed her sore feet. Knowing that she’d be on her feet all day, she’d chosen a pair of kitten heels, but her feet still hurt after hours of dancing and greeting people.
She watched with trepidation as Tarin poured himself a glass of scotch, wondering why he hadn’t enjoyed any of the wines during their dinner. But even as she watched, her eyes slowly closed, her body sinking more deeply into the soft cushions.
“You need to change, Zuri,” he warned.
She nodded. “I know. Just…give me a moment,” she mumbled, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the cushions.
A moment later, she was asleep, her shoe falling to the floor from her numb fingers.
Tarin watched, fascinated and a bit worried. She was pregnant with their child. Had today been too much for her? She hadn’t said anything about being tired or stressed during the ceremony or during the seemingly endless reception. Tarin walked over and took her other shoe off, watching her as she slept. Zuri wouldn’t complain, he knew. She’d just keep going until her obligat
ions were finished. In fact, he was the only obligation she had resisted. Their betrothal was the only thing she hadn’t immediately embraced.
Damn it! She’d pushed herself too hard today! And now she was worn out because of her exertions.
He carried her into the bedroom. She curled into his arms as, with one hand, he pulled the covers back before tucking her into bed. He wanted to pull off her clothes so that she was more comfortable, but he didn’t want to wake her up. She needed sleep and he needed to take care of her. He took a moment to remove the diamond necklace, dumping it unceremoniously on the bedside table. Damn, she’d looked amazing today. The necklace had made her whole face sparkle.
He pulled off his clothes and showered. When he came out again, a towel wrapped around his waist, he walked over to the closet and grabbed a pair of exercise pants. Pulling them on, he grabbed a blanket off of the end of the bed and walked over to the sofa in the living area. There was a certain irony in sleeping on the couch on his wedding night. But at the moment, he didn’t want to delve into it, preferring to contemplate the next night. Or tomorrow morning when he could take Zuri into his arms and show her how much their wedding meant to him. For now, he wanted her to get a good night’s sleep, undisturbed by him.
Chapter 12
Zuri woke up the following morning and rushed to the bathroom, her stomach heaving with the usual morning sickness. She had no idea how long her body was in the throes of emptying itself, but when it was all over, she carefully moved to lean against the wall, her eyes closed as she prayed that the world would never move again. No shifting, no trembling. Nothing but absolute stillness until her stomach could handle it.
She wasn’t sure what time it was, but the watery light coming in through the windows indicated that it was in the very early hours of the morning. Where was Tarin? Had she woken him?
Opening her eyes, she looked around, carefully turning her head so as not to create another bout of nausea. But instead of finding him walking in, concerned and protective, she was alone. Alone and angry and scared. This wasn’t how she’d pictured her married life starting out. Alone and miserable, she wanted to yell and scream at the unfairness of it all. Unfortunately, her stomach wouldn’t allow that kind of emotion quite yet.
Maybe she’d get to it later in the day. But right now, the cool tiles and not moving were exactly what she needed. Anything more was too taxing.
When Zuri opened her eyes again, a long time later, she felt better. Not completely better, but at least she didn’t feel as if dying were a better option. Standing up, she moved towards the sink on shaky legs, brushing her teeth as she examined her reflection. Not good, she thought with horror. Her skin was pale, her hair hanging limply down her shoulders and she’d eaten so little over the past few days that her bones were showing along her shoulders and neck.
She needed food, she thought. Food and exercise. Both would probably help her feel better, although the thought of food wasn’t appealing. She knew from the past few days that she’d be ravenous later in the day.
“Good morning, Your Highness,” a servant greeted her as soon as she stepped out of the bathroom.
Zuri jerked backwards, staring at the woman with surprise. “Um…Yes. Right. Good morning,” she replied, brushing her hair back over her shoulders and hoping she didn’t look as pathetic as she felt. “Um…is sheik…uh, my husband around anywhere?” she asked.
The woman bowed slightly. “I believe His Highness is in the gym exercising with some of the other guests this morning,” she explained.
“Oh,” Zuri replied quietly, looking down at her hands clasped in front of her. “Yes. I suppose the wedding guests are still here, aren’t there?”
“Yes, Your Grace,” the servant replied. “A wedding breakfast has been set up for the guests who are still here. Most are leaving within the next hour.”
“Right,” she sighed. Then remembered her role now. “I’ll shower and meet the guests in the dining room,” she announced with grim determination. Turning, she headed back into the bathroom, but at the last moment, she paused and looked back at the servant. “Is Princess Ilara still here?”
“Yes, I believe she is waiting for you.”
Zuri hurried as fast as she could, wanting to see her sister-in-law again. Ilara was new to the leadership game, but she’d been married to Jabril for several months now. Perhaps Ilara could offer some advice on how to go about in a marriage of convenience. Ilara hadn’t intended to marry Jabril. Circumstances, and an overly enthusiastic group of villagers, had resulted in her marriage to Jabril.
Dressing carefully in a pink dress that helped add some color to her cheeks, she slipped her feet into pretty pumps, pulled her hair back, and checked her makeup in the mirror. “Here goes,” she whispered to her reflection in the mirror.
Stepping out of their private apartment, she stopped the first servant she saw. “Excuse me, could you tell me where my husband is?” she asked, embarrassed that she had gotten married less than twenty-four hours ago and was already husband-less.
“The men are all in the gym, Your Highness,” the servant replied, executing a careful curtsy.
“All of them?” Zuri asked, surprised by that statement.
“Yes, Your Highness. They are…” the woman hesitated, looking to the floor for guidance. “They are battling or sparring or…well, they are all in there, Your Highness.”
Zuri nodded, not sure why the servant stammered like that. So what if the men were in the gym? Tarin was a big guy with lots of muscles and he worked out regularly. It would be expected that he would spar with his friends.
But the sight that greeted her when she stepped through the doors was…surprising! Awesome also came to mind!
Zuri hadn’t thought anyone could best her husband but his sparring partner was fast and nimble. Tarin managed to push the stranger back into a corner. Zuri raised her hands to clap when the stranger spun around in a move that, if Zuri hadn’t been watching, she never would have believed possible. And then Tarin was on his back, his partner looming victoriously over him.
Tarin had gone down hard, the loud thud when his back hit the mats resounding throughout the gym. Zuri was just about to rush over to him when a gentle hand stopped her. Looking up, she found Ilara at her side.
“Right,” Zuri whispered, clutching her sister-in-law’s hand in support. “Isn’t that Ryker?” Zuri asked, seeing his face now. She swallowed an urge to call her bodyguards and order them to finish him.
“Yeah, that’s Ryker. He, Oz and Jayce arrived late last night and came right to the palace to congratulate you and Tarin.”
Zuri frowned at the man laughing with Tarin, shaking her head. “I used to like Ryker,” she grumbled. “Not anymore.”
“They got out of some military organization with all of these special skills and started their own company. They’re so good, they can literally name their price on any job around the world. Right now, Ryker is training my security team, and they are better than ever!”
Zuri watched as Ryker and Tarin took up fighting stances. “He’s not going to hurt Tarin, is he?” she asked worriedly.
“Would you care?” Ilara asked wickedly.
Zuri pulled her attention away from the two men, frowning at Ilara briefly. “Of course I would! I don’t want Tarin hurt!”
“Yesterday, you looked like you wanted to run away from your own wedding. Now you’re worried about your husband being hurt by some rich guy who can throw a good punch?”
“I don’t care how wealthy Ryker is!” Zuri hissed, cringing when Ryker got in another jab to Tarin’s ribs with his elbow. “He’s going to hurt my husband!”
Ilara laughed softly, shaking her head as she again stopped Zuri from rushing across the mats to break up the fight. “They are having fun. I promise. And Tarin is holding his own. Besides, they like this sort of thing. Jabril said that it generates endorphins or something stupid like that. I don’t know and I don’t care. But I do know that Tarin would be angry if
you interfered.”
Zuri suspected that Ilara was right but…that didn’t help when she turned to watch Tarin go down again. She noticed that Jabril was also sparring, with Sebastian Hughes
Her eyes widened as she watched the icy, elegant man grin with anticipation. “I didn’t know that Sebastian could fight like…” she cringed when the man deftly knocked Jabril’s legs out from under him.
Ilara hissed in horror, and turned away slightly. “I didn’t either. He always looks so formal and refined. Who knew that the man was also built like a Greek god?” she muttered with a sigh before turning away, unable to watch.
“He’s hurting Jabril.”
Ilara groaned and hid her face. “Don’t tell me!”
Zuri watched, not feeling particularly affectionate towards her brother after Jabril punched Tarin yesterday. As she watched, Sebastian lashed out, digging an elbow into Jabril’s ribs. “Good one,” she muttered, thinking that she’d like to do a bit of damage to her brother right about now.
“What happened?” Ilara gasped, spinning around. But now Sebastian was down on the ground. Unlike Tarin, who laughed when he was bested, Sebastian didn’t smile at all. He simply stood up and repositioned himself.
“Are you sure that the man is friendly?” Ilara gasped, covering her mouth so she wouldn’t cry out as the two men started another round.
Zuri nodded, her eyes wide as she watched. “Yes. He’s very fair. And he was the only bank who had the resources, and ethics, to come in and help you with your people. I trust him completely. But…” she cringed and looked away. “Okay, he scares me at times too. But…” she peeked again, her shoulders relaxing when Jabril took the man’s offered hand to get up from the mat. “But, I understand why he appears so cold.” Zuri pulled her eyes away from Tarin to look at Ilara.
The Sheik's Arrangement Page 12