Royal Weddings

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Royal Weddings Page 42

by Clare Connelly


  “We will lead you to him,” Yasmin finally conceded quietly.

  Olivia gritted her teeth. “Fine.”

  His meetings were taking place in the other wing of the palace, and it took them almost ten minutes to walk there, even at a good pace. Yasmin cast Olivia one last look. “Are you certain you would like to interrupt?”

  “Yes,” she muttered darkly.

  Yasmin nodded and raised her fist to the door. She knocked on it three times, then stepped back guiltily. If Olivia had been less incensed, she might have stopped to realise that she was putting the poor woman in a position that was untenable. As her assistant, Yasmin was obliged to follow Olivia’s orders, but more than that, she served the Sultan and the palace.

  The door opened inwards, to a large, elegant office. Tamir stood there, on his own, but for the servant who’d opened the door.

  Olivia looked around to be absolutely certain, and then expelled an angry breath when she saw that he was indeed alone. “Wait here,” she said to Yasmin. Her temper only flared hotter when she saw her assistant look past her, to Tamir, for approval.

  “Oh, for goodness sake,” Olivia said wearily, stalking into the room and planting her hands on her hips.

  Tamir dragged his eyes over her slowly, and felt an answering anger bite into his already dark mood. “Go now,” he encompassed his own servant in the command. Instantly, they were alone.

  Olivia stared across at him, and her breath caught in her throat. A whole day apart, and her body instantly jolted to a state of awareness. He was handsome and he was sexy, but he was a ruthless bastard. She needed to remember that.

  “My assistants won’t leave me alone. Apparently, they suspect I’m going to stuff royal treasures into my robes and make for the border.”

  He forced himself not to show his amusement. “Their job is to protect you. Even from yourself.”

  “I don’t need protecting from myself,” she snapped, lifting her fingers to her temples and rubbing her tired head. “I am not a thief, and I’m not a princess. I don’t want to be with people all day.”

  “They’re not people, they’re assistants.”

  Olivia glared at him. “That’s ridiculous.”

  He nodded. “I don’t mean that they’re of less value,” he added quickly. “Only that their job is to be invisible. They are there in case they are needed. Until you require them, you ignore their presence.”

  “I can’t do that. And I don’t like feeling like I’m being watched all the time! Do you really think I’d be stupid enough to steal from you, Tamir?”

  He sighed. “It is a concern, yes.”

  “Your concern?” She pushed.

  He was silent, and Olivia’s anger trebled. She stalked towards the door, shaking her head with a fulminating rage. “Damn it, I thought you believed me. I thought I’d got through to you. I will not be treated like a criminal. If those women have to go everywhere with me then I simply won’t leave my room.”

  Tamir followed her, catching her easily. He put his hand on hers, gently pulling her to a stop. He was surprised to see tears shimmering in her eyes. “Why are you crying?” He demanded, dropping her hand but remaining right before her.

  She dashed her hands over her eyes and glared up at him. “I’m not.”

  He shook his head, and pressed a finger to her cheek. He traced a tear then lifted his finger to his mouth and kissed it. “Salt for sadness.”

  She was mesmerised by the gesture. By his lips, and his finger, and his darkly watchful eyes. “I’m not sad. I’m… I’m angry.”

  He nodded. “I understand.”

  “God, Tamir, if things had been different,” she said with a slow shake of her head. The unfinished sentence hung between them. Tamir lifted his hand to her cheek, touching her skin, seeking answers.

  “If things had been different?” He finally prompted.

  Olivia sucked in a deep breath. This could have been real. She bit down on her lower lip. But things weren’t different. And this wasn’t real. “I don’t want to be followed.” She lifted her chin. “You have me here. I am a prisoner in this beautiful palace of yours. Without the constant presence of my attendants, I will still be your prisoner. Bound by marriage and by the fact that I don’t doubt you wouldn’t hesitate to have Jack sent to prison if I were to attempt to escape.”

  Tamir’s gut clenched so hard he was almost crippled. He felt like he’d been sucker punched. “I gave you my word that your friend would be safe.”

  She shrugged. “You also told me I was to come to Talidar with you. You implied I would be here as your lover.” She closed her eyes. “Not your wife.”

  Tamir turned away from her. His whole life, he had known black and white, good and bad, and he’d never doubted his motives nor his actions. The mirror she held up to him showed something he didn’t like. It was grey. Murky. Muddied.

  “I have explained…”

  “And so have I,” she interjected forcefully. “When it comes down to it, you don’t believe me. And I don’t believe you. So we’re stuck.”

  He nodded. She was right. He would never be certain that she hadn’t been complicit in Jack’s would-be theft. Particularly not when she’d admitted she knew of his proclivities. Even if she hadn’t been consciously planning the heist, her role was the same as a friend who took an alcoholic to a bar. As for their marriage, even he didn’t completely buy his cover story. Yes, he’d wanted to keep her away from Kalil’s prosecution, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think that was his only reason.

  He dragged a hand through his hair and stared out at the dusky orange sky. If she was a prisoner, then he was also. Trapped by a force that neither of them comprehended.

  “I will ask your attendants to wait upon you only when you request it.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered, turning from him and leaving before anything else was said. The words were building up inside of her like a strange bank of water being dammed in. She could not let the dam wall fall.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  A week after arriving in Liya, and the heatwave was still unrelenting. Olivia had not experienced the warmth of the desert city on her last visit. It had been Autumn, and the worst of the summer had passed by then.

  Now, every day was like a scorching torture to be endured, particularly in the jewelled robes she was required to wear. Of course, the nights made up for it. Beautiful, cool breezes bounced off the desert, cooling the palace and the city below.

  Olivia’s nights were filled with a different kind of heat.

  She and Tamir barely spoke. In fact, they hardly saw one another in the days.

  It was only at night, with the day behind them, that they fell into bed and used their bodies to release the tension that seemed to pulse between them. In his arms, she felt at peace. With his body, he made her feel happy and good, like she could do anything. For the nights, while the sky was inky and the stars were shining, were perfect. So perfect, that the breaking of the dawn over the hills in the distance brought a fresh heartbreak every day.

  As golden light bathed their room, they were strangers once more. Made permanently alienated by the fact that they had formed their relationship on a bed of misunderstanding and distrust.

  Olivia slipped out of her beautiful, custom-made shoes and lifted the gown to her knees. She’d discovered the fountain on her third day of married life. A crystal oasis in a small courtyard of the palace, she’d stumbled upon it quite by chance. It was a perfect, private pool of water, with an ancient goddess in the centre. Water spurted majestically from a bird upon her shoulder. She had been meaning to research the statue, for it obviously had some significance, but it was not something Olivia was familiar with.

  She loved to stare at the woman though, with her striking features and perfectly carved robes, draped around her curvaceous body.

  The water was always so cold, despite the heat of the day. Olivia slipped her feet in gratefully, making a sound of delight as the temperature soothed her fraught skin
. For the first time since arriving in Liya, Olivia felt at ease.

  She had spoken to her mother that morning, and Tabitha had sounded good. The best Olivia had heard her in years, in fact. Tamir had apparently not simply hired a nurse for Tabitha’s care. He’d arranged a team of specialists, overseen by a highly regarded expert in depression and anxiety. In a reasonably short time, Tabitha had turned a corner Olivia had given up any hope of discovering.

  Her hands gripped the coping of the fountain, as her feet sparkled in the water below. She lifted her face to the sky, catching sunshine on her skin and smiling up at the brilliant blue above.

  Tamir had made her life incredibly complicated. And yet she felt a deep well of inner-contentment that was inexplicable.

  The night before, they’d made love over and over again, their bodies seeking one another through the darkness. Her insides rolled as she remembered the waves of pleasure she’d been carried away on. It made no sense, but the biggest fear Olivia now grappled with was that of losing Tamir.

  That fear was ridiculous, and she felt angry with herself for being so weak, and so easily influenced. But Tamir’s body had a power over hers, and she no longer wished to deny it. Nor to accept the possibility of a future without him in it.

  She splashed her feet a little, making a sound of happiness as the water kicked up and left little droplets on the pale gown she wore.

  A sharp stream of Talidarian interrupted her. She looked up warily, to find Kalil storming towards her.

  What was it about Tamir’s security chief that made her head spin? He was a small man, but every bit of him seemed to radiate cruelty. She didn’t flinch, though inside her nerves were quivering.

  “Get out of there!”

  Olivia frowned, and did not move.

  Kalil reached down and grabbed her by the elbow, forcibly lifting her off the edge of the fountain.

  “Hey!” She shouted, pulling her elbow free from his grip. Her heart was racing with fear, now, as she looked around and desperately wished one of the attendants she’d been so quick to dismiss was near at hand.

  “Who do you think you are?”

  She glared at him, rubbing her elbow. Her skin, beneath the robe, was red raw from his hard grip.

  “I am your Queen, and you will address me accordingly.”

  “Queen,” he scoffed. “You cannot lie to me, Olivia. Your marriage is based on the fact that the Sultan finds you desirable, and little more. Soon it will pass and you will be banished. A day I cannot wait for.”

  Olivia sucked in a deep breath. “Why do you hate me so much, Kalil?”

  “I hate all women like you. You will ruin him, like she almost did.” he responded sharply, once again putting his hand on her elbow and frog marching her away from the fountain. She didn’t get a chance to ask what he was talking about. He was almost dragging her through the palace, and even her raised voice didn’t cause him to stop.

  No one intervened.

  Though they passed many people, no one did much more than glance up curiously then look away again.

  “What are you doing?” She squawked, as he pushed open the heavy oak door to Tamir’s office and pulled her in after him.

  Tamir was sitting at the desk, in the middle of going through some correspondence, when his wife was hauled in by Kalil. He was careful not to convey a hint of emotion as he took in her bedraggled appearance. Her feet were bare, her robe had water down the front, and her hair was pulled from its bun, so that it curled around her face and down her front. As for Kalil, his face was pink, and his dark eyes were laced with emotion.

  Tamir summed up the situation, and stood slowly. He walked across to the pair, looking first at his wife, and then to his long-trusted security chief and kinsman. Olivia was shivering like a leaf, and it took all his presence of mind not to pull her into his arms.

  He looked to Kalil again, and at the hand the other man still had wrapped around Olivia’s slender arm, and he frowned. He spoke quietly, with a raw tone of menace in his voice. “You will remove your hand from my wife, immediately. You are never to touch her again, do you understand me?”

  Kalil did as he said, but he didn’t back down. “She was in the sacred water of Lamisa,” Kalil shouted, spittle forming in the corners of his mouth. “Washing her feet in our most special fountain.”

  Tamir flicked his gaze to his wife without reacting. “Is this true?”

  Olivia bit down on her lip, and looked away. “I didn’t know.”

  Tamir nodded. “Why?”

  “Why what?” She asked quietly, unconsciously rubbing her elbow again. Kalil had somehow made her feel as though her bones were broken. The force of his rage had been shocking. She felt her knees beginning to buckle, and only with the greatest self-control did she manage to remain upright.

  Kalil began to speak forcefully in Talidarian, but one look from Tamir silenced him.

  He put his hands out, gently, on his wife’s elbows and drew her into his office. He led her to his chair and sat her down as though she were made of the most fragile china and might break.

  He knelt before her. “Why did you wash your feet in on of our most sacred fountains?”

  She shook her head and opened her mouth to defend herself, then shut it again. “What’s the point? No matter what I say, you won’t believe me.”

  Tamir lifted a hand to her cheek. “You must explain,” he encouraged quietly.

  “I didn’t know it was special.” She closed her eyes, shaking her head at her naivety. “I should have checked. I should have asked someone.” She blinked her eyes open, and stared directly at him. “I’ve just been so hot. And the water is so cold there. It’s private.” She closed her eyes again. “I truly didn’t think I was doing anything wrong.”

  She didn’t see him nod. “What did Kalil say to you?”

  Olivia looked at the man, who stood by the door. His hatred might as well have been a cloak that he wore. She looked at him and began to shake. Her fear was obvious.

  Tamir leaned forward, and whispered in her ear, “Just tell me if he hurt you.”

  Olivia didn’t speak, but betrayingly, her fingers crept to her elbow again. She touched the skin, earning a look from her husband. Wordlessly, Tamir reached out and lifted her sleeve, pushing the fabric gently to expose her flesh.

  Five distinct, red finger marks had been left in her arm, and bruising was already beginning to spread from where Kalil had crushed her with his hand.

  Tamir, always so in control of his emotions, found them slipping out of his grasp now. He stood, and moved towards the door. As he went to leave the room, he paused, and turned to his wife. “Wait here,” he murmured, trying to soften the anger from his tone.

  He wouldn’t have questioned his loyalty to Kalil, but in that moment, Tamir found it the easiest thing in the world to dismiss him from the palace’s employment. He would not tolerate violence towards anyone, least of all his wife. Nor would he accept hostile aggression. There was no excuse Kalil could offer that would soften his stance, and Tamir was not in the mood to listen anyway.

  “She is just a British whore!” Kalil spluttered, when it became obvious that Tamir was serious in his desire for Kalil to leave the palace.

  Tamir’s hand formed a fist and he longed to crash it down on Kalil’s face. But he would not answer violence with violence.

  “She is your Queen, and my wife, and you will end up in prison if you dare speak of her like that.”

  “You married her to keep her in your bed. Why pretend there is anything more there?”

  “Why I married her is not your concern, Kalil.”

  “My duty is to protect you, Tamir. I have been doing that.”

  “Bullying my wife is not serving your duty,” Tamir countered angrily.

  “She is not even your wife!” Kalil snapped back, his dark eyes unrepentant.

  Tamir went very, very still. “What do you mean?”

  Kalil’s pointed tongue darted out and licked his thin lips. “I
knew you would regret your impetuous decision to marry her, Tamir. So I did not file the papers. And I did it to protect you from her.”

  Tamir’s fury crashed through him like a star going supa nova. “You must leave the palace immediately, Kalil. If you do not, I will not be responsible for my actions. Go now, and speak of this to no one.”

  Kalil nodded, his expression calm. “I will wait for you to call me back to your service, Tamir. I know you will realise, in time, that my actions were for your own good.”

  “GO!” Tamir roared, unable to maintain even the appearance of an even temperament for a moment longer.

  He waited until he could no longer here Kalil’s footsteps and then relaxed his posture.

  She was not his.

  She never had been.

  And she never would be.

  Not after all he’d done to her.

  Tamir had every intention of confessing the truth to Olivia, but the sight of her washed that resolve away immediately. When he stepped back into his study, she was sitting at his desk, her head in her hands, her face so impossibly forlorn, that he knew he was not powerful enough.

  Letting her go would require the strength of a kingdom, and he was simply a King. No. He couldn’t let her go. Instead, he had to convince her to stay.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice uneven. “If I had known the importance of that fountain…”

  “Don’t,” he shook his head slowly, and moved to her. “Don’t apologise, Olivia. I brought you here and left you to find your way without an ounce of my assistance. This is my fault.”

  She frowned, forming a little furrow between her eyes. “Your fault? I wasn’t aware you knew you could be in the wrong.” Her attempt at humour fell flat.

  Tamir’s eyes were drawn to her elbow. Gently, he pulled her to him. “I’ve neglected you this week. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” She shook her head. “I know you’re busy.”

  “Damn it, Olivia. Stop being so understanding.” His voice was heavy with contempt. “I have done nothing but order you around since we met, and still you give me the benefit of the doubt. It must stop. Just accept my apology and allow me to attempt to make amends.” He lifted his eyes to the clock on the wall. “I have a meeting now. But I will come to you in an hour. Be ready.”

 

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