by Lynne Graham
A magnificent jewel case was brought to her.
‘It is a gift from your bridegroom,’ Gamila explained and tangible excitement filled the room when Elinor lifted the lid on a fabulous diamond necklace and drop earrings that quite took her breath away. Oohs and aahs of admiration sounded all around her. The necklace was the perfect complement to the boat-shaped neckline of her gown.
With her companions laughing and chattering she travelled down in a lift to the ground floor. When she stepped out a bouquet of white roses was handed to her by a giggling little girl. Moments later she saw Jasim, dressed in a snazzy grey morning suit that was a perfect tailored fit to his tall, well-built frame. She collided with brilliant dark eyes and her tummy flipped and her heartbeat thundered in her ears. The instant she saw him a helpless surge of relief and pleasure engulfed her.
You look amazing. He didn’t say it; his mouth framed the words in silent appreciation and she lip-read them with an inner glow of happiness that she could not suppress. She had so many questions that she wanted to ask him. Where had the fairytale dress come from at such short notice? Why had he given her the diamonds? Why all the fuss when she had dimly expected a short ceremony? But there was no opportunity for her to speak to Jasim in private. They were ushered into a room crowded with guests and married all over again. Throughout the ceremony, an interpreter stood by her elbow carefully translating every solemn word that was spoken. They exchanged rings. Her ring, at least, was not new and when it was returned to her finger it somehow felt more right on her finger than it had before. The formalities over, she posed with her hand resting lightly on Jasim’s arm for several ceremonial photographs.
‘Where did my dress come from?’ she whispered.
‘Italy. I called in favours and described what I wanted for you. It was flown in this morning.’
‘I love it. And the diamonds?’
‘A traditional gift from the groom.’
A pair of antique sedan chairs was brought in and they were each assisted into them. There was a lot of laughter. Hoisted high, the bride and groom were carried to a flower-bedecked room for the wedding party. Jasim helped Elinor out and her attendants hurried forward to rearrange the folds of her dress. Then, the bride and groom stood at the head of the room to greet their guests. Elinor was astonished when she espied her father working his way through the crush towards her.
A tall bearded man with grey hair and spectacles, Ernest Tempest clasped his daughter’s hand and frowned. ‘Jasim insisted that I come. Your stepmother couldn’t make it. She can’t stand the heat in places like this. Well, you’ve done very well for yourself,’ he pronounced. ‘Who would ever have thought it? I never thought you’d amount to anything.’
It was over two years since Elinor had last seen her father and he had not altered one little bit. She was amazed that, even with Jasim’s encouragement, he had chosen to fly out to Quaram to attend her wedding. Evidently she had her marriage to a royal to thank for that feat.
‘I’m really pleased you were able to come,’ she said pleasantly. ‘Are you staying for long?’
‘A few days. There are a couple of very interesting archaeological sites in the north of the country and your husband’s organised a tour guide for me,’ the older man explained. ‘Quite a forceful, managing sort of a chap, isn’t he?’
Elinor tried not to laugh at that description of Jasim as her father took himself and his opinions very seriously. ‘Yes, he is.’
That rather impersonal dialogue complete, Elinor’s father moved off again. In a daze she turned to Jasim. ‘I certainly wasn’t expecting to see my father here.’
‘He’s the only family you have, but I would never have pressed him to attend if I had known he was likely to tell you that he thought you would never amount to anything,’ Jasim admitted, his annoyance on her behalf heartening. ‘I wanted our wedding to be special in every way this time.’
Impressed by that statement and the kind of temperament that prompted healing rather than divisive moves, Elinor would have liked to discuss it further with him. It was at that inopportune moment that Laila, sheathed in an azure-blue evening gown that showed off her fabulous curves, glided up. Tossing a brazen smile in Elinor’s direction, the beautiful brunette engaged Jasim in a low-pitched conversation. He laughed a couple of times. The friendly familiarity of their relationship was obvious and it set Elinor’s teeth on edge.
‘You get on very well with your cousin,’ Elinor commented when Laila had finally moved on after a lengthy show of reluctance and many heartfelt sighs.
‘We grew up together,’ Jasim parried lazily. ‘She hopes you’ll forgive her for the joke she had at your expense yesterday.’
‘The sharing-you-with-a-second-wife joke in extremely bad taste!’ Elinor remarked acidly, indignant at the manner in which the other woman had smoothly contrived to excuse her behaviour.
‘Laila has always loved to tease and let’s face it—you seem to have been a very easy mark,’ Jasim informed her with rueful amusement. ‘Do you always believe everything people tell you? No matter how ridiculous it might be?’
Hot-cheeked, Elinor had to bite her tongue to rein back a tart and resentful response. She knew she had been credulous and the mortification of it still stung painfully. ‘You took it equally seriously last night,’ she reminded him drily.
Jasim inclined his proud head in acknowledgement of that reminder and they sat down side by side in throne-like seats while a meal was served.
‘Is it true that your father wanted you to marry Laila?’ Elinor could not resist asking in a feverish undertone. ‘Did you think about it?’
‘Of course I did. In many ways she would have been perfect, but I was only twenty-six at the time and although she is very attractive I didn’t want to marry anyone,’ Jasim fielded.
Perfect and very attractive were the words that lingered on Elinor’s mind. No, she definitely could not kid herself that Jasim was blind to his cousin’s charms. It was an unwelcome reminder that Jasim had only chosen her as his wife because she had conceived his child. While she agonised over that fact the celebration trundled on. Speeches were made, songs were sung and poems of inordinate length about great battles and tragic love were recited. Arabic music was played and several traditional dances, which included a lot of waving of swords and cracking of whips, were performed. As evening fell they went out onto a balcony to watch an amazing firework display.
In the middle of it, Jasim closed a hand over hers and tugged her through a door into another reception room, which was empty. ‘We will leave now…’ he breathed, one hand lifting to nudge a stray auburn strand of hair back from her soft cheek, his fingers lingering to stroke the delicate ear lobe stretched by the weight of a diamond earring. ‘You’re the perfect height for me,’ he murmured lazily.
She looked up into smouldering dark golden eyes and her breath convulsed in her throat while her anticipation climbed ever higher. He reached for her with purposeful hands and crushed her slender, yielding length to his lean, hard body. The fiery passion with which he drove his sensual mouth down hard on hers thrilled her to death, while the erotic dance of his tongue inside her sensitive mouth made her quiver. Even through their clothing she could feel the insistent swell of his arousal. He shuddered against her, hot and eager with desire, and at the very core of her body she melted with liquid heat.
‘You’re treating me so differently today—why?’ she prompted breathlessly.
‘I offered you a new beginning and failed to deliver. That wasn’t fair to you or Sami,’ Jasim conceded tautly. ‘I don’t want to sabotage our marriage before it even gets off the ground. Sometimes I can be my own worst enemy.’
‘And mine,’ she completed unevenly.
‘Not any more.’ He escorted her out to the lift, assuring her that her luggage was already on board the helicopter awaiting them.
‘What about Sami?’ she asked anxiously.
‘He will join us first thing tomorrow—’
> ‘Why can’t he come with us now?’
‘My father has asked that Sami and I do not use the same mode of transport in case there is an accident,’ Jasim explained wryly. ‘It will be inconvenient for us but I can see the wisdom in his request.’
Her skin went clammy at the mere mention of an accident although she knew they happened every day. She thought it was understandable that Murad’s unexpected death should have made the King more nervous.
‘Did you enjoy the day?’ Jasim pressed.
‘Very much,’ she said truthfully, her mouth still tingling from the exhilarating pressure of his. ‘I was surprised by how westernised it all was though.’
‘Western-style weddings are currently the height of fashion in Quaram. I pushed the boundaries further by requesting a mixed-sex party afterwards,’ Jasim admitted as he urged her outdoors into the balmy heat of evening. ‘My father witnessed the ceremony but the party would have been a step too far for him and he conserves his strength as best he can.’
In the powerful lights that lit up the waiting helicopter, Jasim scooped her up into his arms. The full skirts of her gown foamed up round her slim body as he put her on board. ‘You haven’t even told me where you’re taking me!’ she exclaimed in the midst of her laughter.
‘A villa on the Persian Gulf that used to belong to Murad. Yaminah asked me to take all her Quarami property off her hands because she has moved back to France to be near her family.’
‘How are she and Zahrah managing?’ Elinor enquired.
‘Rather better than anyone expected. I understand that Yaminah has already acquired an admirer, a former friend from her youth, and Zahrah has always been very attached to her maternal grandparents.’
‘Life goes on,’ Elinor quipped, cheered by the idea that the older woman might find happiness again.
‘Ours has barely begun, aziz.’As the noise of the propellers drowned out any prospect of further conversation, Elinor met Jasim’s dazzling golden-as-topaz eyes, gloriously fringed by black lashes, and her heart skipped an entire beat.
Suddenly, exasperated by the level of her response to him she closed her hands tightly together on her lap and urged herself to use her head. Jasim had dropped the aggro and made peace with her for a very good reason: he didn’t want a divorce. His elderly father had no doubt decided to accept his foreign daughter-in-law for much the same reason. Sami lay at the very heart of her acceptance as a wife and it would be foolish to overlook that reality. Jasim might still suspect that she had attempted to lure his brother away from his wife—and that she’d accepted a very valuable ring in the process—but from now on, he would probably keep his reservations on that score to himself. Why? For the sake of their marriage and the image of the monarchy in a small country, where such matters were still of vital importance.
So, Elinor reflected, it was time for her to jump off the bridal bandwagon that had given her starry eyes and reconnect with the ground. What was it about Jasim that could make her behave so foolishly? Last night’s insane attack of insecurity after Laila’s jibes about his taking a second wife? It had not been her intellect that spawned her reaction, but the tumultuous emotions that Jasim still aroused in her. He had the power to make her jealous and possessive, to lift her to passion and drop her into the depths of despair. The day she had walked away from him she had almost drowned in that sense of despair, until she had picked herself up and focused on her baby rather than her broken heart. If she didn’t want to be badly hurt again, she needed to regain that emotional control and distance, because Jasim was never likely to give her the love that she secretly craved from him, was he?
The leader of a large contingent of security staff met them off the helicopter. The villa was a palatial, ultra-modern structure embellished by a verandah, extensive grounds and every possible interior extravagance. ‘The views in daylight are spectacular,’ Jasim told her, and then he swept her up into his arms to carry her over the threshold.
‘You don’t have to do fake stuff like this to impress me or make me happy,’ Elinor told him uncomfortably. ‘I know and accept that this is a very practical marriage. I’ve got no illusions.’
‘It’s not fake,’ Jasim protested, lowering her down the hard length of his muscular body to lead her upstairs.
‘I don’t want to get into another…er…difference of opinion with you,’ Elinor selected, borrowing his terminology, ‘but you never really wanted me. You didn’t choose me. You were only interested in the first place because you thought that your brother—’
Jasim rested a brown forefinger against her parted lips in a silencing gesture that stilled her tongue. ‘Don’t go back over that ground again, particularly if you’re about to make another set of wrong assumptions,’ he instructed. ‘This is our wedding night.’
‘I know,’ Elinor reminded him dolefully, moving into a lamplit bedroom adorned with an over-generous number of flower arrangements. ‘But facts are facts—’
‘You are a very stubborn woman,’ Jasim intoned. ‘But we are two different people. Your facts are not my facts. How could they be?’
Blinking warily, Elinor looked back up at his bronzed features, her senses singing against her will at his dark, sleek perfection. His stunning dark golden eyes were sombre and serious. ‘How do your facts differ from mine?’
‘The first time I saw you, even though I was prejudiced against you and you had been drinking, I still thought you were the most gorgeous woman I had ever seen,’ Jasim breathed in a driven undertone of urgency that suggested that practising such candour was still a challenge for him. ‘Although I have never found redheads attractive, I really love your hair.’
In tune with that unexpected confession, Jasim meshed long fingers into the tumbled, scented depths of her luxuriant mane. ‘I love your hair,’ he said again, knuckles brushing her cheekbone, her lips and the curve of her breasts to emphasise the point he was determined to make. ‘Your face, your mouth, your very beautiful body. I wanted you as soon as I saw you and with a powerful desire beyond any I have ever known before. That reaction had nothing whatsoever to do with anything I had been told about you…it was private and personal to me and concerns only you—’
Elinor was gripped by the edge of fierce urgency in his dark, level drawl. ‘If that’s true, I—’
‘You must accept that it is true. You must also understand that that reaction was not at all welcome to me,’ Jasim stated with a frown. ‘Naturally I didn’t want to be that attracted to you.’
Elinor had gone from feeling like the consolation prize in the wedding lottery to the most desirable of women. On that issue, at least, his sincerity was highly persuasive, right down to the assurance that he had never previously found red hair pleasing. Her slim shoulders lifted a little, her spine straightening. Her hands sliding up to his broad shoulders, she began to help him out of his jacket.
A surprised laugh fell from his lips. He shrugged off the jacket, dealt with his tie and smiled down at her while she undid the buttons on his dress shirt with unsteady hands. ‘You know what you want,’ he murmured thickly.
And she knew she wanted him; for the first time in well over a year, she wanted him without any sense of guilt or shame. She knew now, and without any shadow of a doubt, that he genuinely wanted her too. It was a simple truth but an immensely important one for her peace of mind. She parted the edges of his shirt and ran her palms down slowly over the warm, hairroughened wall of his muscular torso, delighting in the heat and masculinity of him. His breathing quickened audibly when her fingers dipped below his waist. He took her hand and pressed it against the hard contours of his surging erection.
‘This will be a night of unforgettable pleasure,’ Jasim promised huskily and he turned her firmly round and began to unfasten her gown.
Pink spots of colour adorning her cheekbones, Elinor stepped out of the rucked-up folds of her beautiful dress. She had never felt more exposed than she did then, with her slender body clad only in the ivory satin underpin
nings of her bra, panties and lace-topped stockings.
‘I have never seen anything more exquisite,’ Jasim swore, studying her with scorching golden eyes of deep appreciation.
A slow burn started in her pelvis as he undid her bra and slid it off.
‘You have the most wonderful breasts, aziz.’
He moulded his hands to the full firm globes, catching the swollen stiff nipples between his fingers and then backing her down onto the bed to put his mouth there instead. The feel of his lips and his tongue on her sensitised flesh fanned the slow burn at the heart of her into a blaze of tingling heat. He tormented the tender buds until her hips were arching off the bed. Stepping back from her, he shed the remainder of his clothing.
Elinor could hardly breathe for desire and the joy of looking at him. There was a pagan glory to his lean, hard body and his rampant arousal. He pulled her down onto the white linen sheets with him. Her tapering fingers skimmed like butterflies over a powerful hairroughened thigh. Newly confident, she was touching him as she had long yearned to touch him and the very intimacy of her erotic exploration and her pronounced awareness of how she was affecting him stimulated her even more.
A tremor ran through his big frame and he murmured her name. Her fingertips found him, traced his towering potency and practised a delicious friction before her lips engulfed the most sensitive part of all. She elicited a groan from him and then a protest.