Julia’s mouth dropped open. “But surely your adopted child should be an heir.”
Adina’s smile was wistful. “It is not possible. If Amal and Zayn both die, childless, the line will pass to a distant cousin of the King’s. That same cousin would never allow an adopted child to sit on the throne of Naman.”
“That’s… outrageous,” Julia said, shaking her head sadly.
“I think so, too. But Amal has never cared for the rule of the kingdom. In truth, he has often offered to abdicate to Zayn. The brothers are so different. Where Zayn sees only problems he can solve, Amal sees a life he wants to live.” Adina scrunched her face up in an expression of apology. “I don’t mean to say Zayn doesn’t enjoy life,” she said quickly. “He has married you. That is a sign that he intends to live and be happy, finally.”
Julia’s mind was slowly shutting down. If Zayn accepted Amal’s abdication, it would mean she, Julia, would be next in line to become Naman’s Queen. Fear of such a public position made her heart stone-cold and heavy in her chest. But a greater fear than that was gripping her. Speaking the words aloud hurt, but not saying them would have hurt even more. “Perhaps he married me just so he could secure an heir.”
“Oh, nonsense,” Adina said with a feeble laugh. “No one could make Zayn do something he didn’t want.”
But Julia’s mind was running away with her. Adina was right. Zayn was born to lead. As second brother, he had the luxury of focusing his energies on the family empire, and under his watchful management, it had grown to a global entity of epic proportions. He was clever and hard-working and a gifted business man. He was admired and respected the world over for his commercial acumen. If there was one fly in the ointment, it was his reputation as a bachelor. He’d spent years publicly romancing glamorous women – too many for even a heartbroken Julia to properly remember. The only way someone like Zayn could convince his country he was ready to lead it, and that was by taking a suitable wife and producing a child.
And finally, she understood. He didn’t love her. He never had. He saw her as an excellent candidate for marriage. She came from a wealthy, titled family; she’d been sent to the best schools in England, and had graduated from Oxford with a degree in international law. She was young enough to be a presumably safe bet in the baby-making stakes. And she had zero will-power to resist him. Yes, he had chosen his bride very, very well.
“I have upset you,” Adina said perceptibly, putting her tea down quietly and taking Julia’s cool hands in her own. “I am very sorry, Julia. I have a habit of speaking a little too freely at times.”
Julia’s lips tilted into a lopsided grin, despite the gnawing panic in her gut. “It’s a habit I share, Adina. Please don’t worry about it.” She lifted her clear eyes to her sister in law’s face. “I do want children. I just thought I might have a little more time.”
“And perhaps you do. I might be completely wrong. It could just be my wishful thinking.”
“Your wishful thinking?”
“I know Amal would like to pass the throne to Zayn. And between you and me, I wish it also.”
“I honestly don’t know if that’s what Zayn has in mind,” Julia said cautiously. After all, it was the complete truth. What did she really know about the man she’d married? Four years ago, she would have said she knew him inside and out. They had spent hours talking on the phone, swapping deep, personal emails. She had known him in a way that defied explanation. But now? She had only presumed he was happy running his empire.
But Zayn was driven by power, and a lust for control. Hadn’t his dominance of her since their meeting again shown her that he was not prepared to leave anything to chance? His control-freakishness was a talent best left to leaders.
“Let’s not speculate,” Adina concluded sagely. “Whatever happens, I am pleased Zayn has married you.” Her smile was genuine, if a little reserved.
Julia wasn’t an accomplished enough actress to pretend likewise. At that moment, all she wanted was peace and quiet to think everything through.
“You know,” Adina continued, “He spoke about you to me, many years ago.”
“He did?” Julia lifted her eyes to Adina’s, her surprise obvious.
“Yes.” Adina linked her arm through Julia’s and slowly guided her through the lounge room, towards the balcony. There was a light summer’s breeze that almost took the edge off the stifling heat, but Adina flicked a concealed switch in the wall and large palm shaped fans on the ceiling began to flick lethargically backwards and forwards, adding to the cooling wind.
Julia settled herself in the middle of a cane ottoman, her legs crossed at the ankles, and stared out at the view. Beyond the highly fortified security fence, the city stretched far in the distance. The buildings were pale and compact, and smoke was rising from various areas.
“Restaurants,” Adina said, tilting her head towards the puffs of dark grey clouds rising into the air. “The food in Naman is exquisite; particularly what you find in city bazaars. I will take you for dinner, when you are settled.”
Julia’s eyebrows arched. “Is that possible?”
Adina’s smile was amused. “Of course, cherie. The people of Naman are very welcoming of their royalty. Though you will never go anywhere without a team of security, they’re unlikely to prove necessary. However, if you are uneasy, I can have someone arrange for the restaurant to be closed to the public.”
“Of course not! I didn’t mean that,” Julia hastily explained. “This is all very new to me. I’m still trying to understand what my life will be like.”
“I take it Zayn swept you off your feet?” Adina asked drily, taking a sip of her tea.
“More like threw me into the path of his hurricane,” Julia returned with a wry smile.
“That sounds like Zayn. Once he has decided on a course of action, heaven help anyone who tries to stand in his way, or even attempts to slow him down.” She gave Julia what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “I know how you feel, Julia. Though I was raised in Naman, and raised by a Sheikh to marry a Sheikh, I was not prepared for how life in the ruling family would be.”
“In what ways?” Julia leaned forward, wanting to benefit from this exotically beautiful woman’s experience.
“It is less intrusive than I had thought. The Al-melara family values their privacy. Fatimah, Amal and Zayn’s mother, had much to do with the strict separation between state life and personal life, and that is respected still today. Though I’m sure there is speculation as to why we have not produced an heir, it is not spoken of publicly. Something for which I am very grateful.”
“Of course. It’s no one’s business but yours,” Julia said sympathetically.
“That isn’t strictly true when you’re talking about the next ruler of a country. Though I like you for taking my side so readily,” she grinned across at the English woman.
“Absolutely!” Julia said with a nod of her head.
“I find it hard to see the way the pressure of rule takes a toll on Amal,” she said honestly, lowering her voice and leaning forwards. It was the first time Julia had even realized that about five staff were dotted along the length of the balcony. It would appear she was already growing used to their presence. “He relies on Zayn a great deal, and that makes him feel guilty.”
“As you have said, no one could make Zayn do anything he was not happy to do.” Julia caught Adina’s eyes and flushed a little at what she was about to ask. But curiosity killed the cat, and she was no cat, willing to be suffocated by the weight of questions not asked. “Adina, what did you mean before? When you said Zayn had mentioned me to you?”
“Are you giving away state secrets, sister?”
Zayn’s deep voice made both women jump, and Julia’s eyes flew to his in surprise.
Adina was perfectly relaxed around Zayn. Julia watched, enviously, as her sister in law stood and crossed to where Zayn and Amal stood.
“You have not told your wife very much about our family, Zayn,” she chi
ded, only half joking.
Zayn looked across at Julia, his expression drawn. “She agreed to marry me, not my family,” he said with his own brand of egotism that bordered on rudeness. “I hope you haven’t been scaring my young wife with stories of royal life.”
Julia tilted her chin defiantly. “You don’t give me enough credit, Zayn,” she said firmly. “I married you with both eyes open. I knew what I was getting myself into. You did a very good job of making the important facts clear to me.”
His eyes flared at her thinly veiled reference to the demands he’d laid out when he’d suggested the whole fiasco.
His smile was lacking in genuine warmth, but Julia suspected only she realized as much. “We both did. Isn’t mutual understanding the basis of an enduring marriage?”
Julia slowly stood from the ottoman and crossed to her husband’s side. She looked up at him, her eyes full of a seething annoyance that she was just keeping tamped down. “And honesty,” she added with a small smile at Adina.
“Oh, dear. I can see I’ve ruffled some feathers,” she said with an apologetic smile.
“Not at all,” Julia was quick to reassure the woman she had quickly come to like, and to think she could even be friends with. “I’m only teasing Zayn because it’s my duty, as his wife.” She winked at Amal. “Your brother needs to be kept in line sometimes, don’t you agree?”
Amal’s grin was boyish, and Julia got a sense of what Adina had been referring to. He might be lovely, and intelligent, and loyal, and kind, but he was not remotely kingly. But what did that matter? How much ruling did rulers really do these days? “I doubt he would agree with you.”
“Actually, in some ways, Julia is right.” Zayn surprised them all by saying earnestly. “And I don’t think there’s anyone on earth who could do it but you.”
Julia felt her heart thud painfully. Was he speaking the truth? Or was his compliment just a line, to ease over the awkwardness which Adina had sparked with her straight-talking ways?
“Let’s have lunch,” Zayn announced, signaling to one of the silent staff behind them. His nod was all it took for a hive of activity to take place, but Adina was quick to demur.
“We didn’t mean to intrude, Zayn, we simply wanted to meet your wife and welcome her to Naman, and into our family.”
“Then welcome her over lunch,” Zayn insisted genially, putting his arm around Julia’s waist and stroking her hip in a rhythmically seductive pattern.
“If you’re sure?” Amal asked his brother and Julia forced a welcoming smile to cover her frown. It was immediately clear which of the brothers held the upper hand, and it was not the one destined to be king.
Zayn said something indecipherable in Arabic, earning a small laugh from Adina.
“Your house is your palace, and at the head of your kingdom, is you, Zayn.”
And though she really liked her new sister in law, she felt an unwelcome jab of envy towards the beautiful woman now. Her relationship with Zayn seemed so easy, so relaxed, with none of the fierce undercurrents that were threatening to turn Julia back into a nail-biter.
Zayn was not helping her mental state.
In the company of his brother and sister in law, he was the perfect new husband. He was so attentive, his behavior almost bordered on doting. Except that Zayn was incapable of doting, of course. But slowly, he explained each of the dishes to Julia, using their Arabic name and then translating them into English, describing the ingredients and the history, and making suggestions for combinations she might enjoy.
And she took his suggestions, because for once, he wasn’t bossing her around, nor telling her what she should enjoy, he was simply advising her. Julia scooped some of the amusingly translated “slippery beans” onto her plate – snake beans in a mild coconut and spiced sauce, and added a fragrant yellow rice to it.
“You’re right, Adina,” Julia said to the woman who sat opposite her. “Namani food is exquisite.”
“And you haven’t had our coffee or sweets, yet,” Adina said, clasping her hands to her chest in an exaggerated impersonation of a swoon.
“Darling, not everyone is as big a sweet tooth as you.” Amal said with a laugh. “How she has avoided a run in with diabetes is beyond me.”
“Julia prefers fruit,” Zayn said quietly, catching Julia’s eyes as she was lifting her water glass to her lips. She forced herself to drink, though the passion in his gaze made her hand quiver unevenly. “The day I proposed to her, she was eating just-picked blackberries by the handful.”
“That’s right, I was,” she said with a small frown. It was a detail that reminded her of the day, and the way he’d spoken to her. It was so at odds with the man opposite her now that she felt a jarring sense of confusion.
“And the first time we met, you absconded from your father’s party with a platter of mangoes.”
“Mangoes,” Adina, oblivious to the torrent of tension whirling between Julia and Zayn interjected happily, “are fruit from heaven.”
Julia replaced her water cup on the table top and turned her attention away from Zayn. His gaze was so mesmerizing. If she fell under his spell, she would forget what he was capable of. And she couldn’t forget.
He had brought her father’s company to the brink of bankruptcy, and then paid above the market value, all to secure her as his wife. Why? There had to be any number of women in Naman who would have made excellent marriage prospects to a man such as Zayn.
She expelled a quiet sigh and tried to tune into the conversation that swirled around her. Theirs was such an easy dynamic; it confused her even more that he hadn’t invited his family to their wedding. He had intentionally kept them apart until it was official. Why? It was another question she wasn’t sure she would ever have an answer to.
“Are you close to your parents, Julia?” Adina asked, almost as if she’d read her mind.
Beneath the table, Zayn’s hand caught hers and squeezed it sympathetically. He was the last person in the world she should take comfort from, given that he’d shown up and turned her life on its head in a matter of minutes, but he knew how her mother’s absence in her life had affected her. To his credit, he waited quietly for Julia to respond as she wished.
“I never knew my mother. She passed away shortly after delivering me.”
Adina’s face contorted into a mask of pained understanding. It was one Julia had seen many times in her life, and she’d learned not to let it bother her. But it did. Losing the chance to even know your mother was a cruel deprivation. She didn’t have any memories of the woman who’d cherished her into being. She didn’t know how it felt to be held in her arms, nor what her hair smelled like, or her laugh sounded like. All she had to remember her mother by was a collection of incredibly expensive jewelry and photographs she’d long since stopped looking at, because it upset Colin too greatly.
“I’m sorry,” Amal spoke in his quiet voice, and his expression was so somber that he reminded her for the first time of Zayn.
Julia sought to lighten the mood. “I am close to my dad, though. It was just the two of us growing up, and he’s always counted on me.”
“How will he cope with you living in Naman?” Adina asked, genuinely interested.
Julia shrugged. “I expect it will be a difficult adjustment for him initially. He is young, though. He only turned fifty last year. I’m hoping he’ll use his new-found free time to change his routine.”
It was a lovely, cheery speech, and in her usually effortless way, Julia had steered the conversation onto less serious ground. Why did it bother him that she wouldn’t meet his eye? Because she blames you, he thought with a small frown. She has no mother, and you tore her away from the one person she loves in the world. As a small pang of regret formed in his gut, he forced himself to remember her childish cruelty, when she’d sent him those photos four years earlier. That she’d cheated on him was bad enough. But that she’d wanted to flaunt it to him in some juvenile act of spite, perhaps to make him jealous, showed her t
rue character. His sympathy was not warranted on someone like his wife. With a hardening heart, he pulled his hand away under the guise of pouring some wine into his glass. He could not let himself forget what she was capable of, or he would be in danger of falling in love with her all over again.
Chapter Six
Julia followed behind the tall, reed-thin woman, curiosity and nervousness jangling for equal space in her swirling gut. Amal and Adina had left hours earlier, and shortly after their departure, Zayn had taken himself off. He’d said he had to work, but Julia had sensed something more. A concealed annoyance that she couldn’t understand. But she wasn’t going to ask him about it.
He’d manipulated things to get her into his life. And though she knew in her heart of hearts, she’d fallen into line with his plan because she wanted to, she was still too proud to show weakness to him. And so she’d sat stoically in a large study, surrounded by books written in a language she didn’t comprehend, and pretended not to feel bored and lonely.
But she was. She missed her friends. She’d lived with Georgie the whole way through university, and Andrew was at their flat so often he might as well have had a room. She typed Time in London into her phone and waited for the response. It was early evening. Perfect. She clicked on Georgie’s number and waited for the call to go through, only it rang out. And so she tried Andrew. No luck there either. Thwarted at every turn, she had been in the process of browsing the books when the servant had appeared and said, in heavily accented English, “The Sheikh will see you now.” As though they were strangers.
Now, as she turned and ascended yet another flight of timber stairs, polished to such a sheen they were almost reflective, nerves were winning the battle. Finally, when she had been about to ask if they’d almost reached the moon, the servant pulled on a door handle and stepped back to allow Julia entry.
What she saw fairly took her breath away.
It was a huge space at roof height of the building that didn’t seem to know if it was a balcony or an outdoor room. On one side, there was gauzy fabric suspended, and the burning candles gave the space a fragrance of orange and cinnamon, and some unknown, more exotic spice. There was a large bed, or mattress rather, on the floor in the center of the room, and though it was obviously basic, it was covered in ornately covered cushions and a woven quilt that almost seemed to shine with gold flecks.
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