Claiming His Replacement Queen (Monteverre Marriages Book 2)

by Amanda Cinelli

  Long strides and a rush of adrenaline had him at the door of Cressida’s room within minutes. He did not knock, entering and closing the door with a thud behind him. She had been standing at the window but whirled around at his sudden entrance.

  ‘I will not be abandoned in the middle of dinner.’ Khal spoke evenly. It was taking all his self-control not to let his voice boom across the room with the force of his irritation. ‘I understand that this situation is uncomfortable—’

  ‘I can’t go back in there.’ Cressida’s voice cut across him, loud and clear. ‘I cannot sit and eat my dessert, knowing that the entire room is whispering about my secrets.’

  The slight tremor in her voice unwound some of his irritation. She was upset; of course she would be. She had not known that her biological father was dead, that much was clear. But, apart from that, he realised that he had absolutely no idea what the rest of the story was. He had been too preoccupied with the scandal, and how to contain it. He had been Khal, Sheikh of Zayyar. While right now his wife had just needed support from her husband.

  ‘The whole world will know within the next twenty-four hours, habibti.’ He was surprised at the softness in his voice as he spoke. ‘It is not going to go away. And it is definitely not going to get any easier just by hiding yourself away in your rooms.’

  ‘I’m not cut out for this; I told you that before you married me. I was not given the same training to live in the limelight that my sisters were.’ She inhaled deeply, turning her face away from him to look out at where the sun was setting on the horizon of the desert. ‘Nothing about me is the same as my sisters, and now you know why.’

  ‘How long have you known the truth of your parentage?’

  ‘On some level, perhaps I always knew. Physically, I never inherited the famed Sandoval beauty. I always had the feeling that my father looked at me differently. Almost like he held me in disdain, no matter how I behaved.’ She moved towards the window, her long skirt blowing slightly in the breeze that drifted in. ‘When I was twelve, I found a box hidden away in the back of my mother’s dressing room. It was filled to the brim with letters and some photographs of a man I didn’t recognise. My father found me trawling through these love letters and images. Nothing was particularly graphic or inappropriate, of course; my mother is a queen, after all.’ A cruel laugh escaped her throat, or perhaps it was a sob.

  ‘What did your father do?’ Khal asked.

  ‘Oh, he never punished me, if that’s what you’re thinking. He’s not one for physical punishment or outward displays of aggression.’ Her eyes narrowed slightly. ‘I wonder if perhaps a good spanking might have left less scars; I don’t know. He grabbed the box, he took me by the hand and he brought me to my mother. I remember she was sitting drinking brandy in the salon. She smiled at me after he made her tell me the truth. It was the saddest smile I have ever seen.

  ‘And then I just stood there, twelve years old, and listened to my father spout rage and venom while my mother stared blankly out of the window. At one point he turned to me, photograph in his hand, and he said, “I am not your father. He is.” I will never forget that moment as long as I live. His eyes were almost black with rage, spittle flying out of his mouth as he spoke. I remember flinching as he held the photograph inches from my nose, screaming at me to look at it, to look at him. Him being the man my mother had betrayed our family with.’

  Khal let the silence fall between them, amazed at the lack of emotion on her pale features as she recounted such awful memories. For a moment he felt the urge to close the space between them, to reach out and take her in his arms. It was too intimate, too much emotion tangling up the logical side of his brain that he knew was the priority right now. But his wife was hurting, that much was clear. She might not show her pain, but he could see it in the way she held her shoulders pulled straight, in the way she held her chin high but her lip quivered slightly.

  Making his decision, he moved to her side and took both of her hands in his own.

  ‘When you said that you were marrying me as part of your duty,’ he began, tilting her chin up so that he could see her face, ‘did this secret have anything to do with it? Were you blackmailed?’ He did not know what he would do if the answer was yes.

  She met his eyes for a moment, the sadness he saw there so profound that he felt his breath catch.

  ‘I was not blackmailed, Khal. My father was already planning to cancel my research work and call me back to Monteverre, whether I agreed to this marriage or not. I made the mistake of sending him a letter around the same time that Olivia had run away from your engagement offer. I told him of a job offer I had received at the university. He was furious. I might not be a Sandoval by blood but I still held the name and title. By agreeing to marry you...he said it would make him proud.’ Her voice broke on the last word.

  Khal felt his chest constrict, his arms surrounding her as she finally melted into him and let the tears fall. Hearing the evidence of yet more emotional manipulation by such a cruel man made the primal beast within him growl even louder. To use his daughter’s love against her, to manipulate her... He took a breath, loosening his hold on her and creating enough space between them so that he could look down into her eyes.

  ‘I will make an excuse for you; there is no reason to force you to return to the function in this kind of emotional state.’

  ‘No.’ She shook her head, standing up straight and blotting her eyes lightly with the tips of her fingers. ‘It was childish of me to run off like that. Tonight is about taking my place as Sheikha. It’s better if we maintain a united front, like the team said. I can hold myself together for another hour or two.’

  ‘You are sure?’ Khal frowned at the sudden change in her posture, the way she seemed to so easily switch off such deep pain and anguish.

  She nodded, all the weakness from a moment before gone. Aside from a slight smudge at the corner of one eye, it would take very close scrutiny to know that she had been crying at all. She was practised in hiding her pain, he knew now. It made something inside him clench to know that she was now hiding it from him too.

  * * *

  The rest of the dinner passed in a blur. Cressida did not know if perhaps the news had not broken as quickly as they expected it to, or perhaps their guests were simply putting on a very convincing front. But it was a relief that no one seemed to be looking at her differently, no hushed conversations seemed to occur in her vicinity. Or perhaps her inner turmoil was such that she simply did not notice or care.

  It felt as though all the energy in her body had been depleted, leaving her weak and tired. So, so tired.

  The news that her biological father was dead had shocked her, even though she had never met the man. She had only ever seen his picture, and read the beautiful letters sent to her mother. Vincent was his name, a humble chauffeur. How utterly clichéd that her mother would have a sordid affair with her driver. This really was the media’s dream scandal. Most likely, there would be books written. Hollywood probably had someone penning a script as they spoke.

  She kept her polite smile in place as the guests began to filter out, taking the chance to slip quietly away. She had fulfilled her duty, she had sat and eaten and listened to speeches and applauded at the correct times. Now, she wanted nothing more than to collapse in her bed and bury herself beneath the covers until the rest of the world was no longer talking about her.

  Khal had not spoken to her since they’d returned to the banquet; clearly he was far too preoccupied in ensuring that they retained the power in this awful situation she had created. Poor him, having shackled himself to such an unworthy bride. Heaven only knew what the Zayyari public would make of this scandal. Perhaps there would be call for an annulment of the marriage, now that it was public knowledge that her parentage was illegitimate. She was polluting the royal image of the kingdom with her scandal and secrecy.

  Once in her room, she went abo
ut the ritual of allowing her maid to assist her with the more difficult garments, then dismissed the young woman for the night so that she could take her time getting ready for bed. She removed the pearl earrings from her ears, placing them delicately into the small box on her dressing table. Next, she removed the heavy necklace from her neck, taking a final moment to admire the glitter of the sapphires in the lamplight.

  Standing up from her table, she took a moment to take in the designer lingerie that had been paired with her evening gown. Apparently a dress like hers required a specific cut of bra and underwear to achieve maximum effect. She had just been grateful that she wasn’t forced to wear some sort of medieval corset.

  The bra was definitely designed well, she smiled to herself. A movement in the mirror caught her eye, and she looked up to see Khal standing in the doorway. They both stood frozen for a moment, Cressida with one hand awkwardly cupping the lace of her bra.

  ‘I came to talk.’ He averted his eyes, seeming suddenly transfixed upon a spot on the floor. ‘I’ll wait in the living room.’ With that, he turned around and closed the door behind him.

  Cressida exhaled slowly, dropping her hand from her breast to rest at her side. A bubble of nervous laughter rose in her chest. If he didn’t already think she was odd, after walking in to find her examining her own bra...

  Not wanting to keep him waiting, she threw on her dressing gown, making sure it was closed tight at the front, and tied a double knot at her waist. Slipping on her silk slippers, she contemplated tying her hair into a loose bun but decided against it, considering that it had been pinned up already all evening. Most likely Khal simply wanted to give her an update on the media situation and he would be gone, leaving her free to fall into bed alone as usual.

  He sat in an easy repose on her small settee, long legs casually crossed one over the other as he flipped through the fashion magazine that had been left on her coffee table.

  ‘I just want to clarify that I don’t usually stand and examine myself in the mirror like that, in case you think me awfully vain.’ She kept her tone light in an effort to appear easy and unaffected by the fact that he had just witnessed her half naked. Not that that exactly mattered, considering that he had already seen her fully naked once before, but she wouldn’t dwell too much on that thought if she planned to get through this conversation.

  ‘And here I was thinking I had stumbled upon another little secret of yours.’ He attempted a smile.

  Cressida appreciated his attempt at humour, considering he was not usually one for jokes. She took a seat on the other side of the settee, carefully keeping the folds of her dressing gown together. For a moment she thought she saw his eyes scanning her body slowly, then he blinked and looked away.

  ‘You disappeared tonight before I had the chance to talk further,’ he said. ‘I wanted to express my admiration for you this evening. Returning to that dinner could not have been easy.’

  ‘It’s easier than sitting alone with my thoughts at the moment.’ Cressida shrugged.

  ‘Why do you do that?’ he asked quietly. ‘I offer you a compliment and you shrug it off as though it makes you uncomfortable.’

  Cressida fought the urge to squirm in her seat, feeling as though he was doing that thing where he saw right through her. He had always seen her, the real her, so much more than anyone else had. ‘Okay, how about I go back in time thirty seconds and I simply say thank you?’

  One corner of his mouth raised slightly, his gaze never leaving hers. ‘What else would you do if you could go back in time, I wonder?’

  ‘According to my lessons in royal interview tactics, that is the kind of question the Sheikha must never answer.’

  ‘Never has a question been deflected with more skill.’ Khal half laughed, giving her mock applause. It was strange, laughing with him after the strain of the past few hours, but at the same time it was just really nice too.

  ‘Why did you come here?’ Cressida asked. ‘I mean, of course you are welcome to come here whenever you like. I just meant tonight in particular. You must have something specific you wanted to talk about.’

  ‘I did come here to talk further about the plan for the next few days, the strategy to contain the story in the media...’ He met her eyes, uncrossing his legs and sitting forward with his hands on his knees. ‘My team want us to lie low for a couple of days while they assess the situation and make plans with the relevant team in Monteverre. Then we will travel over for our official visit and address the matter.’

  Back to Monteverre. To confront the truth. Cressida felt anxiety rise swiftly within her but she pushed it back down.

  ‘Are you okay? Honestly?’ His eyes held hers as he reached between them to grasp her hands. ‘It is all right to show me your weakness, Cressida. I won’t judge you.’

  Cressida felt her heart pump in her chest, hearing the gentle tone of his voice. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I understand if you see me differently now. If you regret our marriage.’

  His grip on her hands tightened. ‘Is that what you think?’

  ‘You seemed angry all evening. Agitated. It’s an entirely valid way to feel, finding out that your wife is even less perfect than she already was.’

  ‘I do not expect you to be perfect, Cressida. This news has come as a shock but, more than anything, I am angry for you, not towards you,’ he said passionately. ‘And as for regretting our marriage...’ He shook his head.

  She inhaled deeply, hardly believing, as a rueful smile crossed his lips.

  ‘Some of my agitation likely stems from how utterly beautiful you look tonight and how frustrated I am at not being able to touch you. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you all evening,’ he said evenly, his gaze locked on hers. ‘It has been a week since I had you in my arms and I still remember every single moment with painful clarity.’

  Cressida took a deep breath, the intensity of his gaze on hers making her heart skitter uncomfortably in her chest. She felt restless and yet glued to the spot all at once.

  ‘We said that we would stick with the original plan. But I think that my plan changed the moment I danced with you in the club in London.’ His voice seemed lower all of a sudden...huskier. ‘I held on to my plan because that’s simply what I do. I keep things under control. But it seems that my control does not exist when it comes to you, Cressida.’

  ‘What are you saying?’ she asked nervously, not exactly sure what she wanted to hear. She wanted him to want her, but not just as a sexual distraction until they wore each other out or got sick of each other.

  ‘I’m saying that the tidy little red line that I drew around both of our separate circles has been blurred and broken to a point where they seem to be melding into one, whether we will them to or not. So now it seems we face a choice. We can choose to completely separate our lives in such a way that we are very rarely in each other’s presence at all. Or we can ignore the red lines completely and see what happens.’

  ‘A world without red lines...’ Cressida said slowly, seeing the tension in his body as he awaited her response. ‘It seems very uncertain for a man who loves certainty.’

  ‘The only thing that I’m certain about at the moment is that if I don’t have you in my arms in the next five seconds I may very well burst out of my skin or erupt into flames where I sit.’

  Cressida smiled, a shiver of anticipation running down her spine. ‘Oh, don’t do that. I’ve grown quite attached to this sofa,’ she said, her voice taking on a sultry tone that shocked her.

  A slow smile spread across Khal’s lips, ‘Well, it seems your choice has been made.’ He closed the distance between them in record time, his body covering hers at the same moment his lips moulded against her own.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE KISS WAS filled with every ounce of tension and frustration that she had felt herself. She had dreamt of his kisses, had tried her hardest to remember
what it felt like to have his lips on hers in case she never felt it again. And yet now that his lips were on hers once more she wondered how she had ever forgotten the feeling. It was so familiar now, like coming home. Dangerously comfortable and yet feverishly exciting all at once.

  Cressida felt as though her heart might beat completely out of her chest. What was it about kissing this man that sent every single hormonal impulse in her body into chaos? And not only that, she wanted to say things to him. Do things that made her shocked. She reached out to run her fingers down the bared skin of his chest, spreading his shirt collar wide so that she could touch him just as he had touched her.

  Khal’s hands encircled her wrists, moving her backwards until she lay back on the sofa, her nightgown spread wide to expose her partially clothed body. He pressed his mouth to the skin above her navel, moving inch by tantalising inch lower, all the while maintaining eye contact. The heat between her legs heightened to a blazing fire and she could not help but reach her fingers towards him, not sure if she wanted to stop him or tell him to move faster to his destination.

  ‘What do you want me to do, Cressida...?’ He spoke each syllable with a caress of his lips against her sensitive skin, his large muscular hands gripping her hips.

  She breathed hard, hardly able to control the small movements her pelvis made as his lips reached the edge of her lace underwear. ‘I want your mouth to touch me...there.’ No longer able to be embarrassed by her own words, she moaned as he drew his fingers up along the thin material.

  ‘Right here?’ he asked, repeating the movement and groaning as she arched herself against his touch. He stopped speaking then, pulling her underwear down over her hips and throwing them over his shoulder.

  The first touch of his tongue along her bared flesh was like nothing she could have ever expected. It was as though her entire body lit up from the inside, warmth spinning upwards along her nerve endings like fireworks. The second touch was even more intense as he drew his tongue slowly along the very centre of her, knowing exactly where would give her the most pleasure. She arched her hips, needing to move against him rather than lying flat and limp. She could not have stayed still if she’d tried, especially once he moved into a smooth rhythm. She had thought the first part was amazing, but it seemed he had more tricks up his sleeve. After a moment, he shifted, looking up at her while he slid his index finger down and slowly into her tight heat. Cressida tilted her head back as he resumed his tongue mastery now with the addition of moving his finger against a spot inside her that she had not known existed. When he added a second finger she thought she might combust on the spot, the feeling of fullness was so intense. Her heart began to pound and she was sure the tension could build no further, the slow tremendous build up like nothing she had ever felt before.