The Sultan's Virgin Bride: A story of lust, loyalty and passionate resentment.

by Clare Connelly

  THE SULTAN’S VIRGIN BRIDE

  Clare Connelly

  All the characters in this book are fictitious and have no existence outside the author’s imagination. They have no relation to anyone bearing the same name or names and are pure invention.

  All rights reserved. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reprinted by any means without permission of the Author.

  The illustration on the cover of this book features model/s and bears no relation to the characters described within.

  First published 2015

  (c) Clare Connelly

  Photo Credit: dollarphotoclub.com/djile

  Contact Clare:

  http://www.clareconnelly.co.uk

  Blog: http://clarewriteslove.wordpress.com/

  Email: Clareconnelly@outlook.com

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  “The sight of the butterfly was beautiful to behold.

  Far too beautiful to relinquish and risk that it might not

  return to him.

  With an eye on his prize, he lowered the jar,

  And smiled as the butterfly batted its wings against the glass sides.

  It was trapped, but his. Always his.”

  - From a Talinese Children’s Story.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “You don’t have to marry him, little one. This choice is entirely yours to make.”

  Eleanor looked up at her father, her gold-flecked eyes glinting with determination in her heart shaped face. “Yes, I do. There are three hundred people waiting to see Sultan Aki Katabi take his wife. This dress cost more than most people make in a year. Of course I have to marry him.”

  Nasir reached out and took his youngest daughter’s hand in his. “Ellie, you are doing this for me. Because you think I care more for my country than for my child. It is not so.”

  She shook her head, her already over-burdened heart swelling at his gently spoken words. Her father. Her hero. Time had been kind to him, but life had not. In his sixties, he was tall and wiry, strong of opinion but soft of voice. Dressed in traditional Talinese robes, he looked mysterious and regal. “I know that being exiled from Talina has been a great sadness for you,” she murmured sympathetically.

  “Yes,” he muttered, unable to keep his eyes on his child. “The shame was immense.”

  “But no longer.” She moved into his line of sight, her smile genuine. “Today, you are back in Talina, and in less than an hour, you will be the father-in-law to its ruler.”

  “Bah.” He wiped a shaking hand over his eyes. Eyes that were so like Eleanor’s she sometimes felt as though she were looking into a mirror. Like hers, Nasir’s were rimmed in thick, dark curling lashes. They were almond-like in shape, and wide set. “You know I do not care for the rule of the country.” The unspoken conclusion to that statement hung between them. If he had cared for the rule, he would have challenged for the throne when he was being called on to do so. But Nasir wanted to rule as much as Eleanor wanted to be anywhere more than three feet off the ground. That was, not at all.

  “But to not be able to return to your birth place… I know that has worn away at you, Papa.”

  He grimaced. “That is my burden to bear. And not yours. Nor your sister’s.”

  “No.” She brushed her lips against his forehead, standing on tiptoe to do so. “It is not my burden to remove, it is my honor.”

  He sighed. “You are determined to marry him then?”

  Eleanor thought of Sultan Aki Kitabi and felt her heart begin to race beneath the generous swell of her cleavage. When he’d first made contact with Nasir to suggest the union, Eleanor had been offended and mortified. How could she, Eleanor Rami, born and raised in upstate New York, be sold into marriage? It offended every feminist bone in her body.

  Until she’d met her prospective husband.

  With one look, every objection had seemed to instantly shatter inside of her.

  Aki had walked into their home as though he owned it. Confident, physically dominant, with a natural sense of authority that had made her tremble in awe. He was tall, broad shouldered, with skin a golden brown, like toffee in the sunshine. His eyes were grey, his face symmetrical, and his hair was dark and gleaming. There was a wildness about him, too. Though he had dressed in a sedate charcoal suit, nothing could tame the feral, animalistic quality he resonated. With six members in his entourage, Eleanor had only been able to look at Aki.

  Still. She was no shrinking violet, and she knew enough about unhappy marriages thanks to her sister Michelle’s experience to know better. Surely shackling herself to someone she didn’t know was a recipe for disaster. No matter how gorgeous he was to look at, Eleanor would need more.

  But then, Aki had begun to speak. And his words had been so eloquent, his voice so seductive, his accent thick and mysterious like the sands that washed over the desert lands of his country; his hands had been so strong and captivating as he’d gestured to emphasise his reasoning, that Eleanor had found herself almost completely struck mute by the time he left.

  It didn’t occur to her that she should speak.

  Not because she believed in deferring to her father on such important matters, but because she preferred simply to listen. To listen to Aki. To hear his words and let them trickle over her, like honey falling from a spoon.

  “Ellie? Do you promise me that this is truly what you wish?”

  She focussed her attention back on her father. “Yes, Papa. I truly wish it.”

  Not only did she wish it, she found she almost couldn’t wait.

  “Well, my child, my blessings are yours.”

  She nodded, and though her tummy was filled with butterflies, she found herself reassuring him. “Have I ever done anything I didn’t truly desire?”

  His laugh was gentle. “No. I remember the time you were due to dissect a toad in science lessons. How you managed to shimmy your way out of that tiny window is a mystery to me.”

  “It wasn’t the shimmying out the window that took courage, so much as the ten foot drop to the ground.”

  “Ah, yes. You overcame your paralysing fear of heights to escape examining an animal that was already dead.”

  She compressed her lips mutinously. “It was not dead. It was sedated. And it was only going to be dead if I did the assignment.”

  He laughed at the memory of his ever-spirited daughter. “I shall never forget that phone call. I thought you were going to be expelled!”

  “I can’t believe I was the first student to balk at such cruelty.”

  He sighed. “That has always been you, my darling girl. So soft-hearted and kind. A true gem.”

  She shrugged impishly. “Well, what can I say? I am pretty perfect.”

  “Don’t let your mother hear me agree with you. She always says I am wrapped about your little finger.”

  Eleanor nodded. “As I am about yours, Papa. Now, if we keep talking like this, I will cry, and my make up will run. Please do not be uneasy on my behalf. I am marrying Aki because I wish it. I will be very happy, I promise you.”

  It was hard to believe Eleanor knew what she was getting herself into, and yet her confidence made further probing impossible. Sufficiently reassured, Nasir slipped from the room, leaving his daughter standing alone in the midst of an enormous marble space.

  She was the picture of bridal modesty. While she wore a Vera Wang gown, it had been mod
ified to incorporate gauze that covered to her neck, and down her arms. The effect was stunning. At only five and a half feet tall, with a generous bust and hips, the dress emphasised her curves. She had chosen to eschew heels, preferring comfort over the agonising pinch of the gold dipped stilettos that had been selected for her. After all, even an inch of added height still left her at less than average stature. Eleanor would always prefer to be short and comfortable than slightly less short and in pain.

  “Ready?” Michelle poked her head around the door, her pretty face looking happy, for once. It was in such stark contrast to her usual strained expression that Eleanor took in a deep breath.

  “You look beautiful, Shell.” Eleanor moved towards her older sibling in a noisy swish of skirts and lace. The bridesmaids were all wearing emerald green – the national color of Talina. Michelle, with her tanned skin, long brown hair and green eyes, looked like a supermodel.

  Unlike Eleanor, Michelle was tall. Without heels, she stood at six feet. She was also slender as a beanpole, straight up and down, no curves to make men leer in the way Eleanor had long endured. Like all sisters, both envied what the other had been genetically blessed with. How Michelle wished she had Eleanor’s voluptuous chest; how Eleanor cursed her curves when she tried on clothing.

  “Look who’s talking,” Michelle said, lifting her sister’s hands and holding them outwards, so that she could admire the full effect of the dress.

  “You don’t think it’s too… much? Too princess puff?”

  “Not princess puff, no,” Michelle said with a shake of her head. She dropped Eleanor’s hands so that she could lift her fingers to the diamond crown that sat heavily on Eleanor’s coffee colored hair. “Just perfect. You look like a real princess. And you look completely beautiful.”

  “A princess.” Her eyes widened in her expressive face. “Oh, God. Now I’m nervous.”

  “You’re made for this. Aki is a lucky, lucky man.”

  Eleanor nodded distractedly. She looked down at the diamond she wore on her ring finger. It was the size of her thumbnail – five carats of pristine gem. “Dad thinks I’m doing this just for him.”

  “Does he?” Michelle busied herself arranging Eleanor’s skirts behind her.

  “Yes. I … get the impression he thinks it’s a mistake.”

  Michelle straightened, coming to stand in front of her sister. She scanned her face thoughtfully. “You don’t make mistakes. You’re Eleanor.”

  Eleanor let out a small breath of amusement. “And you?”

  Michelle waved her hand in the air dismissively, but when she spoke, her voice was clogged with emotion. “Lots of mistakes. That’s us. Shelly and Ellie. Chalk and cheese.”

  “You don’t make mistakes, Shell.” It was a lie. They both knew Michelle had made the worst mistake of her life when she’d married Jak Jorgensen.

  “Papa is probably just worried because it’s very sudden. You and Arnaud only broke up a few months ago, and here you are about to marry someone else.”

  Arnaud. Had it really only been a few months? She’d hardly thought of her ex-fiance. The man who had unceremoniously broken her heart. Or so she’d feared at the time.

  “That was a farce,” she said with a shrug. “An obvious error in judgement. See? I do make mistakes after all. How could I have ever been taken in by his stupid lies?”

  “We all were. And you didn’t make the mistake. You didn’t marry him. You got out before it was too late.”

  “Finding him in bed with his housekeeper sort of gave me no choice, right?”

  “What a pig.” She pulled a face, then made an obvious change of conversation. “Come on. Everyone is waiting. It’s time.”

  “I’m ready.” And she was. She really was. Strangely, given that she’d only met Aki two months earlier, she didn’t have any doubts or worries about what she was doing. Talina was beautiful; and she felt a sense of belonging and connection to the country she’d never seen, but had heard of since birth.

  Marrying royalty was hardly a casual affair. Besides her sister, she had seven other attendants – various cousins of Aki’s. There were also ten servants hovering around the women constantly, ready to arrange dresses and hold flowers as necessary. And in the middle, there was Eleanor.

  Beautiful, petite, vibrant Eleanor.

  Anyone watching the proceeding would have been forgiven for thinking she and Aki were a love match, for the way she glowed and grinned her way down the aisle. Her large, caramel eyes clung to him throughout the entire ceremony.

  Unlike when he’d visited her in New York, he was dressed in a ceremonial Talinese outfit. A long white robe with gold thread embroidered in a detailed pattern around his neck and cuffs. Somehow, it made him look even more masculine, and to enhance his raw virility.

  As the officiating cleric spoke, addressing the assembled group of guests, Eleanor had eyes only for her groom. His handsome face was severe; his concentration obvious. She hadn’t seen him for over two weeks.

  And still, they had not kissed.

  Except in her dreams. She’d fantasised and wondered about how his lips would feel on hers more times than she could count. More than that, she wondered what it would be like to make love to him. Did he know how innocent his bride was? Did he care? A brief frown flickered across her face. Unusually for a wedding such as theirs, it had not been mentioned. Perhaps he presumed that she and Arnaud had been more involved than was actually the case. After all, they’d dated for years, and been engaged for two. High school sweethearts.

  She swallowed a small sound of disgust at the ridiculous image that painted. Eleanor had bought his ‘chastity’ idea, hook, line and sinker. How refreshing it had been to be with a man who wasn’t interested in just getting her in bed. Who was happy to sit up late watching movies together, or reading books side by side, without immediately wanting to make it a seduction scene. She’d never felt pressured by Arnaud. Then again, she’d never felt particularly desired, either.

  And all the while, he’d made her a laughing stock. How many women had there been? She’d stopped caring after she’d found evidence of four. It was enough. She’d been blinded by his lies, and she’d walked away without a backwards glance. How could she forgive him? He’d tried to apologise. To promise her that he’d change. But a man such as Arnaud was not capable of reform.

  Like Jak. Her eyes drifted to her sister, who stood beside her as a beacon of support. Jak was in Aki’s wedding party, and it galled Eleanor to have him there. Oh, to the best of her knowledge, he’d never been unfaithful to Michelle. But there were other ways to hurt a person’s spirit. Such as denying them the baby they desperately wanted. Eleanor suspected his unwillingness to start a family boiled down to a possessive need to keep Michelle all to himself. Such was his obsessive need to control her. Eleanor shivered, and moved her dark eyes past Jak, towards Aki.

  As they reached his best man, they stalled. Ryan someone or other. He was Australian, and kind. She’d only met him for a few minutes, so had only gathered a very short impression, but she’d liked him instantly. And it had given her more faith in the decision she was making. Eleanor believed one could tell a lot about a person by the friends they chose to surround themselves with. That Aki was close to someone like Ryan boded well for her.

  And then, she looked at her groom; at the exact moment he looked at her. Their eyes met, his grey, hers brown. Inside her body, blood gushed like a torrent, pounding so loudly she could hear it in her ears. His expression was inscrutable, but his eyes. Oh, his eyes were so expressive. They seemed to dance with thoughts and feelings – only she didn’t understand. It might take her years to truly understand his nuances. Delicious anticipation zipped through her. Getting to know him was a prospect she was joyous to have on her horizon.

  Unlike western ceremonies, theirs did not conclude with a romantic kiss. But they touched. For the first time, it was more than an accidental brush. His fingers reached down and took hold of hers, and before the assembled guests,
he lifted the back of her hand to his mouth. As he pressed a chaste kiss against the skin on the back of her hand, signalling to all present that she was his, his eyes held hers. And Eleanor thought she’d died and gone to heaven. If one small kiss on her hand could evince such a rush of feeling, what would it be like to be in his arms? And without hundreds of people watching?

  She smiled up at him, a smile so full of wide-eyed innocence and trust that a normal man would have been powerless to resist her sweet entreaty. But he was no normal man. He was a ruler. Born to a long line of rulers. He turned away with a cold lack of response, and led her from the marble and gold wing of the palace. With each step, Eleanor couldn’t help thinking that she was moving into her future, and with Aki by her side.

  * * *

  “How do you feel, now that it’s over?” Katherine had taken her first opportunity to grab her daughter in a quiet moment. The party was in full swing. Eleanor had not really known what to expect, but if she’d been forced to describe what she anticipated, she would have said a staid, stately affair. And while it was certainly stately, the reception was anything but staid. One of Talina’s pop stars had taken to the stage and was singing a number of hits, while the younger guests danced the night away. Attendees were drinking fine champagne and the air of convivial excitement showed little sign of abating.

  Eleanor did not need champagne though. Her insides were zipping with the certainty that soon, in a matter of hours at most, she and Aki would truly become married. A twenty four year old virgin, she had come to assume that she simply had no sex drive. She had not found it at all difficult to abstain from sex with Arnaud, despite the fact that he was physically attractive. If anything, she had felt a philosophical detachment about the whole thing. An academic curiosity, perhaps, but no bone-melting ache to be possessed by her then-fiancé.

  But with Aki… one look and her insides seemed to slick with moist anticipation. Her whole body seemed to quiver when he came near, and she found it increasingly difficult not to throw herself into his arms.