Or perhaps not, she thought with a small smile, her eyes drifting higher up to the swell of her cleavage. It was elegantly concealed by the modest neckline of the dress, but Violet had noticed the changes in her curves. They were bigger, rounder, more full. She turned sideways in the mirror to study herself side on. Yes, she was definitely morphing into some kind of Jessica Rabbit clone with a bigger bust and bottom than she’d ever sported.
A rueful smile froze on her lips when her eyes clashed with a dark form on the edges of her mirror. A gasp escaped her lips as she spun around, and her heart pounded fiercely in her chest.
Zahir.
Her husband.
Her estranged husband, she inserted bitterly, for in the three weeks since discovering her pregnancy, he had barely looked at her.
No, that wasn’t strictly true. He’d looked at her with clinical detachment, at all times seeking only to ascertain her health and well-being. He had stopped seeing her as a woman – as his wife. She was now a fragile incubator for their child.
Had Violet not been pregnant and driven by hormones, she might have been able to make her peace with his detachment. But Violet’s sex-drive, so recently discovered, was begging to be stimulated.
And the sight of Zahir, looking good enough to eat, was not helping. He had dressed in a robe that complemented hers – it was cream and gold, and his dark hair had been brushed back from his face leaving him looking impossibly autocratic.
Slowly, her eyes refusing to shy from his, Violet walked towards him, her hips swaying in a manner that was unknowingly suggestive. She had no idea, of course, that Zahir had been staring at her while she’d assessed the changes in her body and that he had been likewise cataloguing the changes to her appearance. And that assessment had left him with a need for her that would have humbled a lesser man.
But not Zahir.
That he still wanted her despite what he’d done only proved how badly he needed to remember his self-control.
“Your attendance tonight is not compulsory.” His voice was deep and gravelled. It made her pulse, already weak and thready, rush through her like a waterfall over rocks.
“At my official welcome party?” She prompted, stopping right in front of him.
“It is a celebration of our marriage. I may … represent us, if you would prefer to remain here.”
She tried not to let the feeling of hurt overwhelm her. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes.” His eyes were rock hard.
Violet swallowed. “Why?” She tilted a smile at him even when her heart, her bruised heart, was not feeling brave or confident.
“You know why.”
“Because of the baby?” She pressed a hand against her stomach unconsciously. His eyes dropped to the betraying gesture. “The doctor says everything looks fine.”
He nodded and Violet felt the war he was fighting internally. “Fine. Then we should go.”
He put a hand out and confused, Violet stared at it. They hadn’t touched in weeks. Not a single touch. What was he asking her for now? Slowly, cautiously, she put her hand in his and he took it, sliding it through the crook of his arm.
It was hardly the stuff of seduction, but Violet’s stomach was awash with desire and her knees were weak. She risked a glance at his face but he was staring straight ahead, his jaw clenched.
Did he feel nothing? Nothing?
Violet’s fingers wrapped around his forearm. His warmth penetrated her body. She breathed him in as they walked through the palace, her soul absorbing every single detail of their closeness, storing it into her memory so that it might sustain her night time fantasies.
The corridors of the palace gradually changed in décor, becoming more grandiose and elegant, and the presence of guards was more constant, until there was almost a line of them outside a pair of golden doors. The doors themselves were at least three stories high and a curving pattern was marked across their front. From beyond them, the party could be heard. Music, a pretty flute and guitar sound, combined with the conversations of the hundreds and hundreds of dignitaries who had been invited to the elegant affair. The invitations had been sent the day after they’d married, long before Zahir had known of Violet’s condition. Had her pregnancy been discovered, he wouldn’t have allowed this.
“We will not stay long,” he said without looking at her.
And it angered Violet. How could he be so unaffected by her when she was practically ready to strip her dress off and beg him to take her? “You can do what you want,” she responded waspishly. “I intend to enjoy myself.”
That drew his attention, at last, and Violet had the satisfaction of discovering that she could affect him after all. Oh, he was careful to keep his face impassive, but there was a muscle in his jaw that jerked furiously and she knew it was a sign of his temper being pushed.
“An hour,” he challenged.
Her smile was dismissive. “We’ll see.”
No response was possible. The doors were pushed inwards and Syed emerged through them, a grin on his face as he walked to Violet first and pressed a chaste kiss against her cheek. His expression was one of true happiness – at least someone was enjoying themselves.
“The couple of the hour,” he said with a laugh. Apparently he had no idea of the undercurrents that now dogged their young marriage.
“Syed,” Zahir’s answering smile was tight. Violet felt it and squeezed his arm. He looked at her in response and now he relaxed. His smile, in fact, was so perfectly natural that it frightened hers from her face altogether. She stared at him with an enormous sense of loss.
The first month of their marriage shimmered in her memory like an oasis on the horizon of her mind. Had things really been so perfect for them? Had she really spent four beautiful weeks loving this man and being made love to by him every night? Had she been able to dine with him and laugh with him as though there were no constraints?
“Come, Violet,” Zahir murmured. “Our Kingdom would like to meet you.”
“Well, three hundred or so,” Syed corrected with a grin. He stepped aside and instantly, everything stopped. The music, the talking, even the air seemed to freeze in the atmosphere as if immobilised by what was about to happen.
Violet was too over-awed to understand, but the appearance of Zahir and Violet was mesmerising. He, so regal and just like a young version of King Adin and Violet more stunning than any had prepared for. They looked nothing alike, but they matched perfectly. Zahir took a step into the ballroom – though it was far more grand and stately than any ballroom Violet had ever been in before, and Violet followed, her feet gliding over the ground in time with his.
The crowds had separated down the middle, and the faces staring back at them were awash with admiration and happiness.
The contrast to Violet’s own feelings was marked. Zahir guided Violet through the crowd, his arm never dropping, so that she could use him for support the whole way. At the opposite end of the room to that which they’d entered, there were two thrones. He paused beside one and turned to face his bride. “This is where you sit.”
“A golden throne?” She queried, lifting a brow in amusement.
“His and hers.”
It was all so impossibly over-the-top. She should have been prepared, but she’d had no mental run time to prepare for this event. She sat down with instinctive grace, her knees together, her hands clasped in her lap. Zahir took the seat beside her, and the party resumed. The music began to play and people began to talk, though now, the conversation all revolved around the newlyweds.
Violet stared at those who had come to celebrate her marriage, and caught whispers of conversation.
“Such a beautiful woman! They must be very much in love.”
“An excellent match.”
“He is happy, at last. And after such grief!”
“I think she is prettier than his first wife.”
Violet’s cheeks flushed and she couldn’t resist turning her head slightly to see Zahir. He was sta
ring straight ahead as though not hearing the speculative remarks.
“How long do we sit here for?”
“For as long as it takes.”
“As what takes?”
“The party.”
She turned to him in surprise. “You’re kidding?”
“No, Violet,” he murmured, finally relenting and looking in her direction. He looked away again almost instantly. “This is the tradition.”
“It’s a dumb tradition then,” she retorted with a crinkled nose. “All these people came here to celebrate our marriage and they just have to stare up here? We don’t even get to speak to them?”
He was amused enough by her objection to turn to her. “You want to go out there and mingle?”
Her cheeks flushed. “Well, I certainly don’t want to be window dressing.”
“And you wanted to stay all night,” he responded with a tight smile.
She shifted in her chair and he looked at her more closely, this time with wariness. “What is it?”
“Nothing. I just …” Silence fell on the room again and now the guests weren’t paying any attention at all to her and Zahir. They were facing towards the door. It had opened wide, and a familiar figure was poised just inside, helped to stand on one side by Ash and the other Syed.
“Father,” Zahir’s voice was lowered so only Violet caught the surprise. He stood and she rose at the same time. Without thinking, she linked her hand through his arm and she felt him stiffen at the surprising contact. But he didn’t pull back, undoubtedly because so many people were present to potentially witness the rejection.
“You didn’t know he was coming?”
“He was not supposed to,” Zahir responded.
Adin cut through the room with a walk that was, if not strong, confident, and Violet could see what a ruler he must have been. The awe on the faces of those assembled was unmistakable.
“Come,” Zahir said softly, leading Violet away from the thrones and back into the crowd. They walked towards Adin and the moment his eyes met Violet’s, he laughed. A slow, happy sound that filled the room and all the guests smiled with him.
“Daughter,” he said, loudly enough for all to hear. “And chess wizard.”
She laughed in response and dropped her hand from Zahir’s so that she could move to Adin. She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m so pleased you’re here,” she said with honesty.
And anyone watching would have understood the true closeness between King Adin and his new daughter-in-law. “I only wish Efani had lived to see this moment,” he said honestly. “But I will see it and enjoy it for us both.”
Zahir was right behind Violet. “Perhaps you should see it from here,” he murmured, nodding towards the thrones.
“If Syed will keep me company?” He turned to his younger son with an expression that Violet didn’t comprehend.
Syed nodded. “Of course, father.”
Zahir walked with them and waited until Adin was comfortably settled on the throne before returning to Violet’s side. “Well,” he smiled for Ash’s benefit. “It appears you’ll get your wish after all.”
“My wish?” She had forgotten their earlier conversation.
“You want to mingle? Our seats appear to be taken.”
She nodded. “Excellent.” Her eyes skimmed the room. “Why don’t you introduce me to someone?”
Ash nodded towards a couple a few feet away. “The Egyptian diplomats have been very keen to meet you.”
Violet studied them for a moment. “Excellent. Shall we?” It was a question but Zahir knew she had no intention of being denied. Violet Al’Eba was finding her royal prerogative and flexing it quite nicely.
“Violet?” He lowered his voice and dipped his head towards hers. “Stay close to me.”
She batted her lashes up at him and smiled. “Of course, Zahir. You are my husband.”
Only Violet was a person of enormous interest, and at the unusual turn of events, the room seemed to form a queue for the sole purpose of speaking to her. Zahir could only stand by as his wife was mobbed in the politest of fashions. She spoke elegantly to all who approached her, asking sensitive questions, showing that she was well-informed on matters of international politics, and that she was fluent in several languages.
After several hours had passed, Syed appeared by their sides. His expression was serious and cross; she recognised the emotions as he looked so like Zahir when he was angry. “Father will be leaving soon. He wishes to speak to you first, Zahir.”
Zahir nodded but was obviously reluctant to leave his bride to the adoring masses.
“I will stay with Violet,” Syed remarked.
“Violet is quite content, thank you,” Violet remarked in an undertone, but she softened the acerbic remark with a tight smile. “No need for baby sitting.”
Syed laughed and shook his head. “But I must be the only person in the room who has not commandeered a moment of your time. Come, let us take a drink and a moment from the madness.”
Zahir wasn’t happy about it, but he left Violet with his brother and moved off. Violet, for her part, was relieved. Though she’d enjoyed meeting so many people, her head was now swimming with the names and faces of delegates she’d spoken to that night.
“You are a natural,” Syed complimented as they moved a little away from the crowds. A simple nod from Syed and a staff member appeared with a tray of drinks. Violet took an iced tea and sipped it gratefully.
Syed did likewise. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
“You say that like it’s over?”
“Once father goes, the crowd will do likewise. And he has lasted longer than I thought he would.” Syed’s eyes met Violet’s, his look one of kindness. “You have made the world of difference to him in such a short space of time.”
“Have I?” She sipped her drink, unconsciously moving further from the other guests.
“You bring hope of future generations.” Syed paused on the fringes of the party. “He has been ill at ease since Zahir’s first wife died.”
Violet swallowed, careful not to react to the statement. “I imagine the loss of not just Anna but the prospective heir was very hard to cope with.”
Syed nodded. “Nobody approved of the marriage, but once done, it was done. The child would have brought father such solace. Especially after our mother passed.”
Violet’s expression showed sympathy. “So much loss.” Guilt washed across her. She hadn’t spared a single thought for the impact losing his mother must have had on Zahir, even though she had appreciated for herself his grief.
“Yes.” He smiled at her. “But you bring happiness.”
Violet fought an urge to run her hand over her stomach. The gesture was becoming far too common and if she didn’t take care her condition would be easy to guess at.
“I’m glad you think so.” But the conversation was making Violet uncomfortable. Pretending that things were normal and that there was hope for her marriage was impossible to do. “This room is beautiful.” She lifted her eyes to take in the marble and gold pillars that ran through the room, the ivy tendrils that had been strung across the ceiling and sparkled with tiny little lights.
“It is. My parents were married here, and my grandparents. It is a room of great ceremonial importance.”
“I can see why.” She studied the paintings on the walls, dating back hundreds of years, showing various Sheikhs over the centuries, until she reached her husband’s portrait. Her eyes skidded over it quickly; it was too like him. Her eyes then met Syed’s likeness and she smiled. Beside it was Ash’s painting.
“Tell me something,” she murmured, not looking away from the incredible works of art.
“What is it?”
“Ash is your cousin?”
Syed nodded, understanding the direction of her thoughts. “And yet his painting hangs beside mine and Zahir’s?”
“Yes. Zahir mentioned that he is a part of the line of succession.”
“Neither Zah
ir nor I are eager for children,” Syed remarked as though it were the most natural thing in the world. He was not conscious of the pain the comment was inflicting. How could he have known that a child was growing inside of her belly? “And Ashad grew up with us here in the palace.”
“Why?” She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment then forced a smile to her face, hoping he wouldn’t misunderstand the question. “Why did he live here?”
“My father’s brother and his wife were killed.” His eyes met hers and she saw the pain in them. “A terrorist attack while touring Falina.”
He referred to the country that was just across the ocean. “I thought peace had been settled for decades?”
“It has been, officially. But unofficially there are factions who do not appreciate our close alliance.” There was an undercurrent to his words that she didn’t understand. “I am to marry Princess Charlotte of Falina in due course.”
“Are you?” She tilted her head, remembering what she knew of the beautiful woman.
“Zahir was to have the honour, at first. But when you were born …” Syed shrugged.
“So I’ve replaced two women in Zahir’s life?” She murmured with a sense of jealousy that she knew wasn’t worthy of her.
“Your grandfather and my father had a bond that overrode political pressures. I know my father viewed Efani as a dear brother. His loss was very difficult on Adin.”
She nodded. “I’m sure.” But her mind was spinning over this new information. Zahir had been betrothed to another princess? And then Violet was born and that marriage contract was set aside?
“How does Princess Charlotte feel about being gifted from one brother to another?”
Syed’s expression gave little away. “I hardly know her.”
Violet couldn’t control her frown. “And yet you’re going to marry her?”
“In Kalastan, you marry who you’re expected to,” he responded shortly, his smile more of a grimace. “As you have every reason to understand.”
The comment was not intended to offend Violet, but in her vulnerable state, she felt the world shaking beneath her. “I never questioned the sense of this marriage.”
The Sheikh's Contract Bride: Theirs was an ancient debt, and the time had come to settle it... (The Sheikhs' Brides Book 1) Page 11
