“Meftila is produced in small quantities, and only in the mountains to the East. It is very rare, and very valuable.”
“It feels almost like water,” she observed.
“Yes, it is naturally cool. Royal women used to wear it during pregnancy, to maintain a degree of comfort.”
She slanted him a disapproving look. “And so much for the rest of the population, hmm?”
He shrugged. “It is as it has always been.”
She arranged the bits that looped at the front of her dress, and made sure it sat neatly over her hair. “Is this right?”
A muscle flecked in the side of his cheek. She looked achingly beautiful. “Yes. It will do.”
“Great.” She rolled her eyes. The dress was spectacular too, now that she looked at it properly. The sleeves were the same transparent green of the headscarf, from the shoulders to the wrists. They were loose at the wrists, like bells. The dress itself though was fitted to the hips and then it flared a little, to the floor. The hem was beaded with what looked to be pearls. “I can’t wear this kind of thing every day, though. Right?”
His eyes narrowed. “You will wear what I tell you to. What I tell you is appropriate. Your ongoing cooperation is essential to our arrangement.”
She swallowed. It was not a normal relationship. They were not equal. And that very fact made her miserable. It made her stomach ache and her eyes sting. “Yes, sir,” she whispered, feeling instantly better by using the formal term of address. After all, if she remembered their formality, she wouldn’t be tempted to do something stupid like to start developing feelings for her captor.
Tamir wasn’t sure why her submission angered him. It was in such stark contrast to the fire that he knew was burning within her. Hadn’t he wanted her obedience? Hadn’t he longed to control her from the moment he’d seen her? She’d played into his desires perfectly, and he had her where he wanted her. But now that he had it, he knew it felt completely wrong.
His expression was a deep, dark scowl.
“Come. Let us return to the seats.”
Tamir emerged, and said something in Talidarian, including her name – the only two words she comprehended.
The crew, gathered in the plane, all stood as one, and stared at Olivia as she passed. Her cheeks flushed, and her expression showed her confusion. Had Tamir just announced her as his mistress? Did they all think they’d just been having sex in the royal flying bedroom?
Olivia flushed and lowered her eyes, moving to the seats they’d previously occupied. “What was that?” She demanded, when she’d settled opposite him.
Tamir’s eyes met hers. “A preview.”
She didn’t understand, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of asking him any more questions. If he wanted to be cryptic, then that was fine by her.
It was several hours before the plane touched down on the tarmac in Liya, but Olivia didn’t sleep. She couldn’t. Though she felt tired, her mind was buzzing. Her brain wouldn’t be quietened. She had a strange sense of unease – a sense of foreboding that made her restless.
It was almost midnight, local time, when they disembarked, yet the air still sang with the day’s heat. The fragrance of the desert jasmine and fruit trees hit Olivia like a wave of the past. It was so familiar, and so intoxicating, that she actually smiled. She had loved Talidar, and being back – even in these circumstances – was surprisingly nostalgic.
As she walked down the narrow steps, from the aeroplane, Tamir put a hand in the small of her back. Possessive and reassuring, it succeeded in making her feel a greater sense of ease. Beneath them, a group of uniformed personnel were waiting, including the pilot. And almost every one of them was looking at her.
Mortification spread through her.
Everyone knew.
What must they think of her? She did her best to keep her face calm, but her insides were shaking.
Three limousines were parked alongside the base of the steps. Tamir began to move towards one, when he stopped, abruptly.
He turned to Olivia, an almost apologetic expression on his face. He seemed disconcerted. Something she hadn’t expected. “What is it?”
“My sister is here. Her husband is my primary aide. He must have informed her of my return.”
“Oh. Okay. Is that a problem?”
“Perhaps,” he said with a nod of his head. He shifted, so that his hand was pressed against her hip, holding her to his side. “Just ignore her, as best as you can. Selena is…trouble.”
On cue, a woman emerged from the second limousine. Wearing a black dress and pale yellow scarf, with shining dark hair and ridiculously oversized sunglasses given the lateness of the hour, Selena was the most beautiful and exotic woman Olivia had ever seen.
She was also, Olivia saw, furious. Her features were pinched and anger emanated from her body with every step she took.
She spoke in rapid-fire Talidarian, her voice clipped. She removed her glasses, showing her eyes to be exactly like Tamir’s. Large, almond shaped, almost black in colour and rimmed in thick black lashes.
“This is not the time nor place. And when you are in the presence of Olivia, you will use your English, Selena.”
A man appeared behind Tamir’s sister, his expression clearly apologetic. The husband, Olivia guessed. They both stared at Olivia with a confusing look of awe.
“You put her in this dress? In mother’s gown?”
Olivia’s eyes flew to Tamir’s face. His mother’s gown? That didn’t make sense.
“It is appropriate, and it is also tradition.”
“You cannot make this woman Queen.” Selena spat, dragging her eyes over Olivia.
Olivia froze, her insides churning with embarrassment at the obvious mistake. She opened her mouth to correct Selena, but Tamir’s fingers were digging into her sides, non-verbally urging silence.
“It is done. She is Queen. You owe her your allegiance and loyalty, Selena.”
Beside him, he felt Olivia sag. He had not wanted her to discover the truth like this. Then again, was there any way he could break the news to her that wouldn’t have resulted in her anger?
“When?” Selena spat. “You were only in London for days.”
“The details are not your concern. We finalised matters on the plane, and she is now my wife, and your Queen.”
Olivia would have stepped away from Tamir, but he held her tight. Besides, she wasn’t so sure she’d be able to stand if she didn’t have his support. His wife? His wife? She forced herself to remain perfectly still. She would have plenty to say to him when they were alone, but an entirely inexplicable sense of loyalty kept her mouth shut. Selena was definitely trouble, and Olivia suspected it would bode better for her if Selena believed their marriage to be real.
“It can’t be true.”
“I need a wife, and Talidar needs an heir. I am thirty four, and the future of Talidar rests on my shoulders. It is time I thought about the future of this lineage.”
“Talidar has an heir,” Selena shouted. “My son!”
Tamir sighed. His sister’s ambition had long sat as a rock between them. Her desire to plant her own child on the throne was not one she attempted to conceal. “And he is heir still. Until Olivia and I produce a child, Zayid is my presumed successor.”
“You have done this to hurt me,” Selena spoke softly, her pain obvious.
“I have done what you have always known I would,” he intoned wearily. “It is not a debate. Marriage was never something I could avoid. So I have done it.”
“This is because of Marni,” Selena accused darkly, looking at the blonde English woman with a sense of animosity.
Tamir swore under his breath. “It is not, Selena. You are wrong.”
Selena sucked in a deep breath. “This is not the end.” She stormed away, towards the limousine, without a backwards glance.
“I apologise, your highness,” Selena’s husband spoke with a small grimace. His eyes were drawn to the blonde woman, with a sense o
f familiarity that made no sense. Olivia couldn’t shake the feeling that these people knew more about her than she herself did.
“She will be required to act with more dignity at the next encounter, Saf,” Tamir responded coldly, feeling an irrational anger to one of his oldest friends. “My marriage is legally binding. Olivia is not going anywhere. The sooner Selena accepts that, the better.”
Chapter Six
“I am ready now,” Tamir said tiredly, looking at his wife with a degree of concern. “Say what it is you have been thinking for the past hour.”
The drive from the airport to the palace was not long, but once he had returned to his principle residence, Tamir had needed to meet urgently with his mother, to explain his hasty and unexpected marriage. He would have preferred to spend that time with Olivia, but the very idea of Selena breaking the news of his marriage to his mother before he had, filled him with worry. The situation was one he intended to control. It was his country, and his life. Only Olivia was the wild, unpredictable element.
But now, in his bedroom, staring at the woman he’d married without her consent, he felt a stab of worry. She was so silent, and so still, that he couldn’t be certain she wasn’t in a state of catatonic shock.
Olivia’s green eyes were round like duck eggs. “What do you want me to say?”
“Want you to say?” He frowned. “I want you to say what you’re thinking.”
Her laugh was shrill. “No, you don’t. Believe me.”
He couldn’t help the smile that came to his lips. “Is it so bad?” The hope of seeing the spirit he knew she possessed was extreme. Even if that came out as anger, he would welcome it.
She bit down on her lip. “You lied to me.”
“Yes.” He nodded, regarding her thoughtfully.
“Why?”
“I need a wife.”
“But it didn’t have to be me,” she pointed out with a small shake of her head.
“We are married now.”
“So you plan to keep me here forever?”
He shrugged. In truth, he hadn’t thought that far ahead. “You wanted to spare Jack from persecution. I wanted to do the same for you. Marriage was the only way to guarantee your safety.”
She arched her brows. “Oh?”
“Yes. I could not bring you to the palace as my lover. That is not my way. It would be a disrespect to my mother and my country.”
“You’ve never had a mistress at the palace?” She demanded scornfully.
“No. Hotels. Apartments. Never here.”
“Then why bring me here?” She hissed. “You could have kept me somewhere else. Kept me secret. This was not necessary.”
“Perhaps not.” He loosened his tie and pulled it from his shirt, placing it onto the bureau near the door.
“So? Why then?”
Because I don’t want to let you go. The internal admission shocked him. It couldn’t be true. It was a red herring. That was not why he’d married her. “I had to make a quick decision. My chief of security, Kalil, was preparing papers against you both. This served to save you.”
Her heart turned over in her chest. “So all that stuff about a baby, an heir, that was…”
“To aggravate my sister. Nothing more. She is right, Olivia. Talidar has an heir. Her son would be accepted almost as well as mine would be.”
“Then this doesn’t make sense.”
He shrugged. “You’re seeing this from your cultural standpoint. That marriage must exist between a man and woman who are in love and have courted one another for years.”
“Yes, damned right I am,” she responded acerbically. She wanted to stay calm, but her insides were zinging with fury and outrage.
“It is not like this in Talidar. Not for people of royal birth. I have no expectations of love. What I have with you is already better than I have ever expected.”
“What do we have?” She demanded scornfully.
“A healthy sexual attraction. A mutual desire.”
“But we hardly know each other,” she argued logically, lifting her fingers up and freeing her hair from the scarf. “And another thing,” she said quickly, passing the fabric over to him as though it might burn her fingertips. “Did you go to London looking for a bride? Why did you have your mother’s dress at your disposal? That makes no sense.”
“A coincidence,” he said deeply. “The dress was being repaired.”
Did she believe him? None of it made sense, so it was difficult to separate out what she could credit as real and not.
“Who is Marni?”
He froze, his dark eyes impossible to read. “Marni? Why do you ask?”
“Your sister said you married me because of Marni.”
He nodded, but his face had paled. It was obvious the accusation had affected him. “My sister is wrong.”
“Who is she?”
“No one you need to know about.”
Olivia’s laugh was without any true amusement. “You forced me to tell you everything about my mother, which has nothing to do with you, yet you won’t tell me about this Marni? Who your sister believes to be the reason you married me?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I told you what you need to know. That Selena was wrong. Marni is not the reason I married you.”
But she wanted to understand! Nothing about what he’d done was comprehensible. To have ended up married to a man she hardly knew… and now he wouldn’t even explain his actions to her. She gritted her teeth, and tried to breath through the fury that was taking over her. What was the point? He clearly didn’t intend on giving her the information she sought. No, talking to Tamir was like banging her head against a brick wall. The futility washed over her.
“I’m tired.” Her voice was surprisingly calm, given the maelstrom of emotions swirling within. “Am I to sleep in here?”
“Yes. This will be our bedroom.”
She straightened her back, refusing to show any trepidation. She wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. “Fine.”
Tamir closed his eyes. “There are clothes for you in there,” he nodded towards a doorway, which Olivia would later discover housed an enormous walk in wardrobe complete with designer labels.
“Thank you.” She ran her hands through her hair. “And a shower?”
He frowned. “Your bathroom is separate to mine. It’s… tradition.”
“Fine. Where is mine?’
He linked his fingers through hers. “I’ll show you.”
“Are you allowed?” She responded, a sarcastic inflection impossible to miss.
“Respecting my traditions does not mean I am not allowed to do something. Far from it. My authority is supreme.”
“So you respect your traditions more highly than you do me.”
He stopped walking, and fixed her with a curious stare. “Meaning?”
“Isn’t it obvious? You’ve railroaded me into a marriage without having the courtesy to even tell me.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Would you have agreed?”
She laughed, sadly. “That’s the point. I wouldn’t have. And you denied me the chance to refuse. A basic human right. So you’ll forgive me if I don’t put much stock in your desire to respect me.”
He lifted a hand, and touched the soft warmth of her cheek. “You forget, Olivia, that you are a criminal. That you slept with me to give your partner cover for his crime. Do you not agree that you forfeited the right to be respected as an equal when you plotted to defraud me of millions of pounds? When you decided to use your body to facilitate your criminal enterprise?”
She shook her head. “You don’t know anything about me. And you had no right to do this to me.”
“I know that you’re capable of cheating and lying. I know that you desire me. And I know that, in one way at least, you will enjoy being my wife.”
She lifted her hand and slapped his cheek, hard. It surprised her completely. She stared at her tingling palm in total shock. If her temper had been less incensed, she migh
t have apologised for the uncharacteristic gesture. “I have never lied to you,” she said instead, her tone brimming with frustrated anger.
“So you didn’t plan to sleep with me to make it easier for Jack to steal the crown?”
“No! Of course not!” She pushed at his chest. “I slept with you because I wanted to, and you know it. So stop turning it into something… devious and illegal.”
Tamir’s heart seemed to lurch in his chest. “And that is the only reason?”
“Yes,” she promised, nodding her head jerkily. “Tamir, I promise you, I would never steal. I work with priceless artefacts every day. I would never, ever, in a billion years, take something that didn’t belong to me.”
His eyes narrowed, as he looked at her analytically. Olivia held her breath while she waited for him to speak. She couldn’t have said why, but she desperately wanted him to believe her. Eventually, he shrugged. “You still brought a man into my residence who intended to steal from me. That makes you complicit.”
“No!” She closed her eyes. “You have to understand Jack. He’s not… he’s… damn you, Tamir, can you just stop staring at me like that for a second so I can think.”
His smile was rich with amusement, despite the prickly nature of their relationship. “Your eyes are closed. How can you say that I am staring at you, Azeezi?”
She blinked her big green eyes open. “I can feel you examining me as though I’m a bug in your microscope. Staring at me isn’t going to make you understand.”
“Then use your words. If you think there’s something you can say that will make it clear. But you should know, Olivia, I believe stealing to be one of the worst crimes a person can commit.”
She scowled at him disbelievingly. “Worse than kidnapping? Forced marriage?”
He shrugged. “Are you going to explain? Or simply continue to throw old accusations at me instead?”
She ran her fingers through her hair. She was desperate for a shower, but it would have to wait. Soon she would wash the day away. First, she had to try to get through to Tamir.
“Jack has been through a lot. He’s coping as best he can, but he occasionally has these moments where he just loses control. He would never steal something and keep it, nor sell it.”
Sheikhs: Rich, powerful desert kings and the women who bring them to their knees... Page 39
