by Kate Hewitt
‘You might be. Princess Halina might want to speak with you.’
‘And do you want that?’ she challenged. What on earth could she say to Halina that her friend wanted to hear? The conversation would be devastating for them both.
‘In any case,’ Zayed said, ‘Sultan Hassan has taken Halina to Italy and is refusing my messages as well as any possible meeting. I cannot resume any marriage negotiations at the moment.’
She stared at him, surprised at how unperturbed he seemed by the situation, when he’d already told her more than once how essential this marriage alliance was. ‘Then...what will you do?’
Zayed stared at her for a long moment, his gaze considering. Olivia held her breath, although she wasn’t even sure why. It felt as if they were on the precipice of something important, but what?
‘I rather thought,’ he said slowly, ‘I might stay married to you.’
The words echoed through her, reverberating for several endless moments. ‘You rather thought?’ she repeated in numb disbelief, even as she tried to tamp down the absurd happiness spiralling inside her. ‘Do I have no say in the matter, then?’
‘Of course you do.’ Impatience flickered across Zayed’s face and then he deliberately relaxed, offered her a smile. ‘That’s why I’m discussing it with you now.’
Olivia blew out a breath. ‘I didn’t realise this was a discussion.’
‘Let’s not quibble about semantics.’ He crossed the room to sit on a divan by the window, one leg elegantly crossed over the other. ‘Let’s have a reasonable, measured conversation.’
About marriage. Because, of course, this was going to be a business arrangement, just like his marriage to Halina would have been.
‘All right.’ Olivia moved over to the sofa flanking his and sank onto it. ‘Tell me what you’re considering, then.’
* * *
Zayed glanced at Olivia; she sat with her ankles crossed and her hands folded in her lap, like a nun awaiting her orders. Zayed knew he needed to handle this with both care and sensitivity. What seemed obvious and easy to him would not necessarily be so to Olivia.
‘It’s come to my attention that having a western wife with a background in diplomacy is no bad thing.’
‘A background in diplomacy?’ Her eyebrows rose. ‘I’d hardly give myself so much credit. My father was a diplomat, yes, a minor one, but I never was.’
‘Still, you speak several languages; you’ve lived in many countries. Whether you realise it or not, Olivia, you are a woman of the world.’
She looked away, colour touching her cheeks. ‘With very little experience of anything.’
‘You were as at ease with the tribe’s women a few weeks ago as you were with Serrat last night. Your lack of worldly experience does not discredit you.’
She shook her head, her gaze still averted. ‘What of the marriage alliance that was so essential to you?’
‘I took a risk when I attempted to kidnap Princess Halina. A knowing risk. It hasn’t worked out, so I can look elsewhere.’
‘Elsewhere?’
‘To France and other European countries. If they support my claim, I don’t need Hassan.’
‘You don’t need me, either.’
‘Not in the same way, perhaps,’ Zayed said after a moment. Jahmal had raised the same issue when Zayed had broached his proposition a few days ago. Surely, his aide had argued, there were other, more suitable women to be the Sultan’s bride? In Jahmal’s eyes Olivia was still nothing but a servant, even though Zayed knew he’d come both to like and admire her over the last few weeks.
Olivia turned back to face him, resolute now. ‘In what way, Zayed?’ she asked quietly. ‘In what way do you need me?’
It felt like a loaded question. Was she acting from the practical, pragmatic viewpoint he was determined to keep with regard to marriage, or was she asking about something more? About need...the way he’d needed her last night? Love, even? Zayed couldn’t tell anything from her face; her eyes were a stormy blue, her mouth compressed.
‘We are already married,’ he said, knowing he was prevaricating but unsure how to deal with her in this mood. She seemed very quiet and self-contained, her head slightly bowed.
‘Yes, but you were willing to set me aside before. Why not now?’
Zayed felt an uncomfortable twinge of guilt at those simply stated words. Yes, he’d been willing to put her aside. He’d had to be. But he felt differently now...and he realised he didn’t particularly like Olivia asking him why.
‘I’ve seen the advantages of our alliance,’ he finally said. ‘And since we are already married, and divorce or annulment is no small matter, it makes sense to stay married. Besides,’ he added, watching her, ‘we have a certain chemistry, do we not? That is no small thing.’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ Olivia answered shortly.
‘Nor perhaps would I,’ Zayed agreed with a small smile. He longed to lighten her mood; he wanted her to be happy about this, damn it. ‘Before you, Olivia, I had not been with a woman since my days at Cambridge.’
He’d surprised her with that. ‘Ten years? I know you said it had been a long time...’
‘As long as that.’ He shrugged. ‘My point is, we are good together. You are an asset to me.’
‘As asset,’ she repeated, and he had a feeling he’d chosen the wrong word.
‘I would be honoured,’ he said a bit tightly, ‘to have you as my wife.’
A tiny smile curved her mouth, lightened her eyes. ‘Is that a proposal?’
‘After the fact, but yes.’ He waited, feeling tenser than he wanted to be. Her answer mattered to him very much. He’d been hoping she was pregnant, and then there would have needed to be no discussion. The matter would have been resolved. As it was, he needed to convince her of the merits of their marriage. And if she said no? Would he let her go? The possibility caused him an unexpectedly strong wrench of feeling.
Olivia pursed her lips, her expression distant. ‘What kind of marriage would we have?’ she asked after a long, taut moment of waiting.
‘The kind anyone has. A real marriage in every sense of the word.’
‘Real?’ She finally met his gaze, her own startlingly direct. ‘A real marriage means a loving one.’
He recoiled a little, unable to keep himself from it. ‘Is that what you want? Love?’
Her mouth twisted in a sad smile. ‘I’ve dreamed of it, yes. I think most young girls do.’
‘True.’ He hesitated, wanting to appease her but knowing he could make no promises to love her. None at all.
‘I know you don’t love me, Zayed,’ Olivia said. She almost sounded gentle. ‘I’m not expecting you to proclaim your love or something like that.’ She laughed softly. ‘The expression on your face! You look horrified.’
Zayed tried to school his features into something more appropriate. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s all right.’ She sighed and leaned back against the sofa. ‘I just have to consider if it’s something I’m willing to give up.’
‘There are worse things than being a slave to such an emotion.’
She glanced at him curiously. ‘Is that how you see it? As some form of slavery?’
Zayed shrugged. ‘It traps you. Takes you hostage.’
‘You’ve been in love, then?’
‘No, not romantically. But I’ve lost people I’ve loved, and I don’t want to feel that...vulnerable again.’ His hands tightened into fists. He felt vulnerable enough just admitting that much.
Olivia nodded slowly. ‘I suppose I can understand that.’
‘Can you?’ He felt a wave of relief, then a flicker of hope. ‘Then...?’
‘I need to think about it,’ Olivia said. ‘We’re talking about a life decision, Zayed, not something to be decided in a moment.’
‘Of course.’
‘Although I understand your need to have this issue resolved as quickly as possible.’
He smiled, letting it linger. ‘Your understandin
g is very considerate, Olivia.’
She smiled back, and there it was, the spark that always seemed to be snapping between them, kindling into flame. He wanted her all over again, and he let her see it in his eyes.
‘We would be good together, Olivia. We are good together.’
‘In that way,’ she murmured, looking away. ‘Yes.’
‘It is not to be discounted.’ He paused, wanting to convince her, to seal the deal, no matter what she said about needing to think. ‘I believe I could make you happy.’ He realised as he spoke the words that he meant them. He could make her happy and, moreover, he wanted to make her happy. Over the last few weeks he’d enjoyed seeing that shy smile bloom across her face. Last night he’d loved feeling her come alive in his arms. She’d lived a quiet, sheltered life, a life of restraint and shadows. He would be able to give her so much more once he was restored to his throne. And he would be restored. Soon. Very soon.
Olivia nodded, seeming lost in thought, her gaze averted from his. Zayed wished he knew what she was thinking. He wished he knew how to convince her.
‘Why don’t you come with me tomorrow?’ he said impulsively. Olivia at least turned back to look at him.
‘Come with you? Where?’
‘I’m touring some nearby villages, to reassure the people.’
Olivia frowned. ‘Should you really have me accompany you when it hasn’t been decided?’
Probably not, but Zayed wanted her there. Wanted to show his people as well as Olivia herself that she could be his Queen. That she was his Queen.
‘It would be an opportunity for you to see what your role would be, and for my people to see you.’
‘And if we dissolve the marriage...?’
He shrugged. ‘Then I will explain.’ He leaned forward, urgent now. ‘But give us a chance, Olivia. Give Kalidar a chance.’
Olivia let out a long, low breath and nodded slowly. ‘All right,’ she said, and it sounded like a concession rather than something she might look forward to. ‘I’ll go with you.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE WIND WHIPPED Olivia’s hair away from her face as the Jeep bumped over the desert dunes. They’d touched down in a helicopter an hour ago and had been travelling steadily since then under a bright blue sky and lemon-yellow sun. After the cool alpine temperatures at Rubyhan, the desert heat felt overwhelming, like entering a furnace. At least the breeze from the open-top Jeep helped.
Besides being hot, Olivia felt bone-achingly tired. She had barely slept at all last night, her mind going round in dizzying circles as she considered Zayed’s ‘proposal,’ unromantic and businesslike as it had been. What had she been expecting? That he’d confess he’d fallen in love with her? She’d known all along Zayed wasn’t interested in that. His duty was to his country and his people and, if marriage to her helped those two things, then he would pursue it.
But would she?
That was the question she was afraid to answer. Afraid to want.
Zayed glanced back at her, a reassuring smile curving his mouth, his eyes glinting in the harsh desert light. ‘We will be there soon.’ He touched her hand briefly, and even that sent sparks racing along her nerve endings. No, she supposed, just as Zayed had said, their physical chemistry was not to be underestimated. But was it enough?
The Jeep continued to bump along and Olivia leaned back against the seat, closing her eyes against the stunning view and the questions that thudded relentlessly through her. She had no answers, which was why she hadn’t had any sleep last night.
After another twenty minutes or so the Jeep slowed down and Olivia opened her eyes to see they were on the edge of a small village of single storey, mud-brick dwellings. Most of the village had come out to greet them, wide smiles and curious eyes for their future King and the woman accompanying him. His future Queen. Could she really be that person? Did she want to be?
Zayed got out of the Jeep first, waving at the crowd who had gathered before turning to open the door for Olivia.
‘Who will they think I am?’ she whispered as she took his hand and clambered out of the vehicle.
‘My Queen,’ Zayed said simply. ‘Because that is who you are.’
‘Zayed...’ This was not the place to discuss the future, yet already Olivia felt trapped; a noose, tempting as it was, was tightening about her neck. Had Zayed invited her along today so it would be harder to back out? The more people who saw her as his Queen, the more she’d see herself that way? And the more people she’d disappoint if she walked away from all of this.
Such thoughts were swept away as Zayed led her to the crowd. She waved and saw the women sigh or look speculative; clearly everyone was wondering. But she couldn’t let herself worry about that as the day went on and they moved from one festivity to another, inspecting a newly built school, listening to children sing, having glasses of tea with the head of the tribe.
By late afternoon Olivia was feeling tired and a bit overwhelmed, but also surprisingly happy. She had a role here, and one she was surprisingly good at. She liked chatting to people—her Arabic had improved over the last few weeks—and entering into their lives. After a lifetime spent in the shadows, she was finally, wonderfully, stepping into the light, in all sorts of ways, thanks to Zayed. Who would ever have thought a kidnapping would lead to self-awareness and fulfilment? And yet she knew now, whatever the future held, she would be a better, braver person for it...thanks to Zayed.
By nightfall she was ready to crawl into bed and sleep for hours. The women of the village had brought her to the finest house, and in it to a bedroom that was surprisingly sumptuous, considering how little the people of the village had. Olivia thanked them and then began to undress. She’d just taken off her headscarf and slipped out of the traditional kaftan she’d worn when the door to the bedroom opened.
Olivia whirled around, clutching the kaftan to her. ‘Zayed...’ His name came out in a surprised rush. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Sleeping, as are you.’
‘But...’ She shook her head slowly. ‘Then the people of the village know we are married?’
‘It would seem so.’ He seemed remarkably unperturbed.
‘Did you tell them?’
‘I did not tell them otherwise.’
Olivia sank onto the bed, the kaftan still clutched to her chest. ‘Are you making it harder for me to say no?’
Zayed shrugged out of the linen thobe he wore, revealing his bronzed, muscled chest in all its perfection. ‘Maybe,’ he admitted, eyes glinting. ‘As I’ve said before, Olivia, we’re good together.’
‘In bed.’ She spoke flatly.
‘In all ways. Today, for example. You were in your element out there.’ His glinting gaze turned penetrating as he looked at her. ‘You enjoyed it, didn’t you? Talking to people, listening and learning? You’ve spent all of your adult life as a servant, silent and obedient, but you don’t need to be like that any more.’
It was so close to what she’d been thinking earlier, so...why was she resisting? Why was she fighting what Zayed was offering, when it was so much more than she’d ever had before, ever hoped to have?
Olivia stared at him helplessly, knowing that she’d been resisting all along because she was afraid. Afraid of loving him as desperately as she knew she did while he felt only desire and perhaps affection for her.
Yet... Would that be so bad? Couldn’t she live with it? She’d lived with less—far less—and she’d found a certain kind of happiness. She could have more of it with Zayed. He enjoyed her company, at least, and they were good in bed together. And when children came along and she was able to be a mother...
‘Why fight it?’ Zayed asked softly. ‘Why fight us?’
‘It’s a big decision, Zayed,’ Olivia answered, her voice shaky. ‘And just because you’ve reached a certain conclusion doesn’t mean I have.’
‘But you are beginning to,’ Zayed said, and there was certainty in his voice. ‘You are.’
She opened her
mouth but no words came out. She couldn’t deny it. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to. What was love, anyway? An ephemeral emotion, a will-o’-the-wisp, nothing you could hold onto, and perhaps nothing you could count on either. Zayed was offering her more than anyone else ever had. Why not take it? Why not grasp happiness while she could?
‘Olivia,’ he said, his voice full of warmth and promise. He reached for her and she came willingly, closing her eyes as their bodies brushed and collided. She leaned her head against his shoulder and they stood there, embracing, for several sweet moments.
I love you. The words came unbidden into her mind, hovered on her tongue. How had she fallen in love so quickly, so easily? Olivia closed her eyes, willing those treacherous words away. Zayed would not want to hear them. Not now, and most likely not ever.
With his arms around her, Zayed guided her towards the bed. Laughing, Olivia stumbled slightly, her leg brushing against something she assumed was the bed, but then she felt a sharp, stinging pain in her ankle. She gasped, and Zayed looked at her in surprise, but before Olivia could so much as open her mouth she felt a strange, numbing cold sweep over her body, and then she knew nothing at all.
* * *
‘Olivia...?’ Zayed stared at her in confusion—at her face, pale and shocked. ‘What is it—’
Out of the corner of his eye he saw a movement and he jerked around to see the sinuous, black shape of a desert cobra slither across the darkened floor.
Zayed swore aloud and then he shouted for help. Already Olivia’s body was going stiff, her eyes sightless. Quickly Zayed hoisted her onto the bed, looking for where she’d been bitten. He found the angry-looking fang marks on her ankle, and he tore off a strip from his thobe to tie around her leg and isolate the venom, praying that he wasn’t too late.
Seconds later Jahmal burst into the room, followed by several of his armed guards.