by Lynne Graham
Ruby grimaced. ‘The reason Hermione distrusts men around me—my stepfather, Curtis. He was always trying it on with me—’
‘Your stepfather tried to abuse you?’ Raja ground out in an appalled tone, black brows drawing together.
Ruby nodded in uneasy confirmation. ‘He started bothering me when I was about twelve. By then Mum was going out several nights a week to a part-time job and I was left alone in the house with him.’
Raja was outraged that she had been targeted at such a tender age by a man within her own home where she should have been safe. For the first time he understood what had given Ruby her essentially feisty and independent nature as well as her distrust of his sex. Angry concern in his gaze, Raja was frowning. ‘You didn’t tell your mother what he was doing, did you?’ he guessed. ‘Why not?’
‘Because it would’ve broken her heart,’ Ruby proffered heavily. ‘She adored Curtis and she’d had a bad enough time with my father.’
‘Your stepfather never actually managed to touch you?’
‘No, but I lived in terror that he would. It was such a relief for me when he walked out on us. He made me very suspicious of men. He also left Mum absolutely broke.’ Ruby set down her cup and began to move towards the bedroom.
‘Ruby?’
Ruby glanced back at him warily.
‘How much do you want to give Leyla a home?’
Ruby paled and contrived to look both very young and very determined. ‘I’ve never wanted anything more…’ Apart from you, but that was a truth she refused to voice, watching him as he stood there poised, darkly beautiful and dangerous to her every sense and emotion.
‘I will make enquiries on our behalf—’
‘Our?’
‘Only a couple could be considered to adopt her. It would have to be a joint application from us both.’
Astonished by that speech, Ruby trembled with emotion. ‘Is that an offer?’
Raja surveyed her steadily. ‘No, it is my assurance of support in whatever you decide to do.’
And Ruby knew very well what was going unsaid in that statement. A married couple naturally meant a couple planning to stay married. Lashes lowering, she was too enervated to respond and she turned away and went for a shower. Towelling herself dry in the bathroom, she took stock of her situation. She was in love with him. Why not just come clean about that? She was madly, hopelessly in love with Raja al-Somari! Aside from that sense of duty of his, which had hit her pride squarely where it hurt, she liked everything about Raja. His strength, his intelligence, his generosity. His protectiveness, his understanding, his tolerance. He was no longer just a very good-looking, sexy guy, he was the one she had learned to love to distraction even though she had done her utmost to resist his considerable appeal.
The bedroom was empty. But she left the bolster pillow in the foot of the wardrobe where it stayed by day. Tonight she saw no need for a barrier. In fact she was not quite sure which of them had required the restraint imposed by the presence of the bolster the most.
Thirty minutes later, Raja came to bed and the very first thing he noticed was the missing bolster. He slid into the bed in semi-darkness and lay there. There might as well have been a ten-foot wall down the middle of the bed, he reflected wryly. He refused to give her the excuse of believing that there had been any sort of a price attached to his support in the adoption application she was hoping that they would make. He was very much impressed by her commitment to the child, her willingness to become a mother at a young age when so many women would have chosen only to make the most of his unlimited wealth.
Barely a foot away Ruby lay wide awake, as well. She knew that she wanted him quite unbearably. She also knew that suddenly bringing the sex factor back in before other things were sorted out between them would be extremely imprudent but she was still madly hoping that he would take her unspoken invitation.
But the invitation was ignored and it took her a long time to get to sleep. Hours crept past while she thought about Leyla, wondering if they would be allowed to offer the little girl a home and if Raja would learn to love her, as well. She should have discussed the subject more with him. She had to learn how to be half of a couple and wondered why that skill seemed to come so much more naturally to him. It felt as though she had barely slept when she woke up and recalled that this was the day when she would finally meet Raja’s family and see Najar for the first time.
CHAPTER NINE
‘WAJID said that adopting an Ashuri child would be a fantastic PR exercise,’ Raja revealed with a look of distaste mid-morning the following day as they travelled to the airport for their flight. ‘The orphanage director is pleased about our decision because she hopes that our example will encourage people to consider the other children available for adoption.’
‘My goodness, you’ve been busy,’ Ruby commented a tad guiltily at his obvious industry with regard to her hopes concerning the little girl. Having woken soon after dawn when Raja always got up, she had felt distinctly nauseous and had returned to bed only to sleep in late and have a rushed breakfast. A stomach upset, she was wondering now that she felt perfectly fine again, or a symptom of a more challenging condition? Could she be pregnant? How soon would she be able to find out? And how could she check discreetly without anyone finding out?
She was startled when the limousine turned in the orphanage gates.
‘I think it’s time that I met Leyla properly,’ Raja announced, recognising her surprise at that change to their itinerary. ‘And I believe that you would be glad of the opportunity to see her again before we leave.’
The Baldwins met them on the doorstep to express voluble thanks for the sizeable donation that Raja had made to the orphanage. He had not shared that fact with Ruby and was clearly uncomfortable with the couple’s gratitude. They were ushered into an office and Leyla was brought to them there. Her little face lit up when she saw Ruby and she ran in her eagerness to greet her, only to fall to a halt when she saw Raja. He crouched down to a less intimidating height and produced a ball from his pocket. Leyla clutched the ball in a tiny fist while surveying Raja with great suspicion. But Raja was perfectly at home with her, talking to her, smiling and teasing until the child began to giggle and hide her face.
Witnessing that surprising show, Ruby was learning something she hadn’t known. ‘You’re used to kids.’
‘I ought to be. My sisters have five children between them and my cousins must have about thirty,’ he volunteered, finally standing up with Leyla content to be held in his arms, her thumb stuck in her mouth, her eyes bright.
The effort he was making, the kindness he displayed, Ruby reflected on a tide of quiet appreciation, just made her love him all the more. Suddenly the fact he had taken advantage of her susceptibility to him in the desert no longer mattered and her resentment melted away. Hadn’t she encouraged him and taken the final decision? As she had good reason to know he was a very practical and dutiful guy, loyal to his country, his family, faithful to his promises and keen to meet every expectation no matter how unreasonable it might be. And at its most basic, all Raja had ever wanted from her was the willingness to make their marriage work. But the man whom she had resented for that no-nonsense aspiration was also the same one holding the little girl she had come to care for and he was willing for both their sakes to consider making her a part of his illustrious family. And no man Ruby had ever met had been willing to expend even a tenth of Raja’s effort and thoughtfulness into making her happy.
Arriving in the country of Najar was not remotely like flying into Ashur. For a start there was a proper airport that was very large and sophisticated. In fact, as Ruby looked out open-mouthed at the busy streets through which they were being driven with a police escort and motorcycle outriders, Najar seemed to have nothing at all in common with Ashur. Towering office blocks, apartment buildings, fancy shopping malls and exotically domed mosques all blended together in a well-designed city with wide, clean streets. She saw at once why Raja had l
ooked at her in disbelief when she had accused him of wanting the throne of Ashur. Her birth country was very much the poor relation, decades behind its rich neighbour in technology and development.
In contrast, the royal palace was still housed in an ancient citadel separated from the aggressively modern city by the huge green public park that stretched outside its extensive walls.
And the palace might be ancient on the outside but, from the inside, Ruby soon appreciated that Raja’s family home bore a closer resemblance to a glossy spread from an exclusive design magazine. The interior was so grand and opulent that she was stunned by the eye-watering expanse of marble flooring and the glimpses of fabulously gilded and furnished rooms. Her steps had slowed and she was fingering the plain dark dress she had chosen to wear with her nervous tension rising to gigantic heights when a door opened and a group of women appeared. And, oh, my goodness, Ruby’s sense of being intimidated went into overdrive as shrieks of excitement sounded and high heels clattered across the incredible floor. Ruby and Raja were engulfed by an enthusiastic welcome.
Raja drew her forward in her little black chainstore dress. ‘This is Ruby…’ and she wanted to kick him for not warning her that the women in his family wore haute couture even in the afternoon. Indeed one look at Raja’s female relatives and she felt like the ugly duckling before the swan transformation. All of them were dressed as if they were attending a cocktail party. They sported elaborate hairdos, full make-up, jewel-coloured silks and satins and fantastic jewellery.
They entered the room the women had just vacated on a tide of welcoming chatter and questions. Fortunately everybody seemed to speak at least some English. Children joined their mothers in the crowd surrounding Ruby. There was an incredible amount of noise. Most of the men standing around in the big room attempted to act as though they were not as curious about Raja’s bride as their womenfolk were. One tall young man made no such attempt at concealment and he strode across the room to seize her hand and shake it with a formality at odds with his wide grin and assessing eyes. ‘Raja said you were even more gorgeous than you looked in your photo and he was right. I’m his brother, Haroun,’ he told her cheerfully.
Ruby thought that it was heartening to know that Raja paid her compliments behind her back that he would never have dreamt of making to her face. Was he afraid she might get big-headed? Or did compliments fall under the dubious heading of romance? Or did a woman in a platonic relationship just not qualify for such ego-boosting frills? Haroun looked like a smaller, slighter, younger version of his big brother and he was rather more light-hearted, for he was cracking politically incorrect jokes about Ashur within seconds. Drinks and snacks were served by uniformed staff and Raja’s sisters, Amineh and Hadeel, were quick to come and speak to her.
‘You are very beautiful,’ Hadeel, a tall, shapely woman in her mid-twenties, told her with an admiring smile. ‘And a much more suitable match for my brother than your unfortunate cousin.’
‘Am I?’ Ruby studied her sister-in-law hopefully. ‘I never met my cousin so I know nothing about her.’
‘Bariah was thirty-seven years old and a widow,’ Amineh told her wryly.
‘But she was also a very good and well-respected woman,’ Hadeel hastened to add, clearly afraid that her sister might have caused offence.
Ruby, however, was just revelling in the promise of such indiscreet gossip. She had missed that aspect of female companionship and felt that when Raja’s sisters were willing to be so frank with her it boded well for her future relationship with them. Learning that Bariah had been eight years older than Raja and had also been married before was something Ruby could have found out for herself from Wajid, but she had been too proud to reveal her curiosity and ask more questions. She met Amineh’s and Hadeel’s husbands and a whole gaggle of children followed by a long parade of more distant relatives. Everyone was very friendly and welcoming and she was thoroughly relaxed by the time that Raja came to find her. He explained that his father found large family gatherings very tiring and that he was waiting in the next room to meet her in private.
King Ahmed was in a wheelchair and frail in appearance. He had Raja’s eyes and white hair and, although he spoke only a few words of English, his quiet smile and the warm clasp of his hand were sufficient to express his acceptance of Ruby as the latest member of his extensive family. Ruby was surprised to learn that Raja had already told his father about Leyla and their plans. The older man was warmly supportive of their intentions and talked at some length about his sadness over the suffering and disruption inflicted on families during the war.
‘I didn’t realise that you were so close to your father that you would already have told him about Leyla,’ Ruby commented on the way back into the party at the end of their audience with the king.
Raja laughed. ‘No matter where I am in the world we talk on the phone every day. I think he would have been very shocked to hear the news about Leyla from anyone else!’
‘I wish I’d known my father,’ Ruby confided, feeling a slight nauseous lurch in her stomach and tensing slightly, for she had assumed her tummy upset at the start of the day had gone away and she didn’t want it revisiting her while she was in company.
Raja paused to look down at her with his dramatic, dark, deep-set eyes. ‘The loss was his, Ruby. I fear that you suffered because he and your mother parted on bad terms.’
‘Well, after what he did to Mum, naturally they did.’
‘The story of your background that I heard suggested that your mother was aware that your father might well take another wife after they were married. It was a lifestyle practised by several of your ancestors over the past hundred years,’ Raja told her quietly. ‘Perhaps your mother didn’t understand what she was getting into when she agreed to marry him.’
‘That’s very possible…’ Ruby focused wide brown eyes on him that were suddenly full of dismay. ‘I can’t believe I didn’t ask you but—’
Raja laughed and rested a silencing forefinger against her parted lips. ‘No, do not ask me that question, habibi. I would be mortally offended. One wife has always been sufficient for the men in my family and the thought of more than one of you is actually quite unnerving.’
‘Unnerving? How?’ Ruby demanded and just at that moment her fractious insides clenched and went to war with her dignity again. Forced to hurry off to the nearest cloakroom, Ruby was so embarrassed by her digestive weakness that her eyes flooded with tears. Her mood was not improved when Raja’s sisters insisted on waiting outside the door for her to ensure that she was all right, for she would rather have suffered the sickness without a concerned audience close by.
When the emergency was over, she was ushered into the building that acted as Raja’s secluded home within the rambling fortress. He had his own staff, one of whom showed her up a flight of stairs to a superbly decorated bedroom suite. It was a relief to slip off her shoes there and lie down on top of the bed. A drink reputed to soothe a troubled stomach was brought to her and a little while after that as her tension eased and she relaxed she began feeling fine and eventually and surprisingly rather hungry.
A pair of Saluki hounds trotting at his heels, Raja walked in to study her from the foot of the bed. Hermione had accompanied them and the little dog jumped up at the side of the bed to nuzzle her cold nose against Ruby’s hand, the Salukis following to make her acquaintance. ‘Oh, they’re beautiful, Raja!’ Ruby exclaimed, leaning out of bed to pat their silky heads. ‘Do they belong to you?’
‘Yes. Hermione seems to like them well enough. How are you feeling?’ Raja asked
‘Great now, believe it or not,’ she told him with a hesitant smile. ‘I’m going to have a shower and then I’d like something to eat. I’m sorry about all the fuss.’
‘Are you sure that you’re feeling well enough to get up?’
Ruby slid easily off the bed and scolded Hermione for trying to jump up on it. She could not help noticing that Raja’s dogs, who had retreated to sit by the
door, seemed to be very well trained. ‘Very sure.’
‘I’ll order a meal.’
‘Haven’t you eaten either?’
‘I wanted to see how you were first.’
Ruby checked out the dressing room in search of her wrap and found the closets and drawers were already packed with unfamiliar clothes in her sizes. ‘That’s some new wardrobe you’ve bought me!’ she called to Raja.
‘It won’t matter what you wear. You will still out-shine every outfit,’ Raja responded huskily.
Ruby was surprised by that tribute. A flowing blue negligee set draped over one arm, she emerged from the dressing room to study him, the colour of awareness lighting up her face. Having discarded his traditional robe, he was in the act of changing into designer jeans and a shirt. The fluid grace and strength of that muscular physique of his still had enough impact to take her breath away. It didn’t matter how much exposure she had to Raja al-Somari, he still had the power to trip her heartbeat inside her and make her mouth run dry with excitement.
‘Shower,’ she reminded herself a little awkwardly.
The bathroom was as palatial as the bedroom and the invigorating beat of the water from multi-jets restored her energy levels. She wondered how Raja had tolerated the weak water flow of the old-fashioned shower in their suite of rooms in Ashur. Since her arrival in Najar she had come to realise that he was accustomed to a lifestyle in which every possible modern convenience and luxury was available to ensure the last word in comfort. She admired him for not having uttered a single complaint while he was forced to stay in the palace in Ashur.
When she returned to the bedroom Raja was talking on the phone in Arabic. He glanced up and then stilled to stare, lustrous dark eyes flaming gold at the sight of her. A wealth of blonde hair falling round her lovely face, her slim shapely figure framed by the flowing blue nightwear, she was a picture. With an abstracted final word he concluded his call and pushed the phone into his pocket.
