by Abby Green
Now he felt none of those things.
He felt as if he was connected to something much bigger than himself. Something just out of sight, intangible but solid.
Destiny, whispered a voice.
Salim scowled at his reflection—it was not destiny. It was just post-great-sex endorphins. His life wasn’t changing—not for anything, and certainly not for great sex or because he’d found himself feeling more at home in Tabat than anywhere else he’d been in his life.
He heard a faint noise from the bedroom and went back to find Charlotte sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at him over her shoulder. Her naked back was delicate and pale, and just like that his body started coming back to life.
Her gaze dropped and widened as she took him in.
He strolled back to the bed and asked, with a bite that reflected his unwelcome post-coital thoughts, ‘Were you going somewhere?’
He got onto the bed and reached for her, pulling her back towards him until she went off-balance and landed on her back.
She looked up at him, a slight wariness on her face, as if she could sense his volatile mood. ‘I’m going back to my room.’
Salim smiled, and felt ruthless when he said, ‘Wrong answer.’
And then he drowned out the myriad voices in his head by losing himself in her all over again.
* * *
When Charlotte woke the following morning she was relieved to find herself alone in Salim’s bed. She couldn’t have handled being under the scrutiny of that searing blue gaze when she felt so turned inside out.
Last night was almost too much to process. The mind-melting sex...and the revelations that had preceded it.
Salim didn’t believe he was worthy of his kingdom.
He’d led her to believe that he didn’t want to be king because he didn’t want to give up his successful independent lifestyle. But it was so much more than that. Not to mention the fact that he believed he’d driven someone to his death.
Charlotte didn’t for a second believe that was true. But he did.
She heard a noise and sat up in the bed in a panic, pulling the sheet up to her neck, not remotely ready to face Salim.
But it was Assa, and relief vied with embarrassment as the young girl came in, seemingly totally unfazed to find Charlotte in her king’s bed.
‘Miss McQuillan, the king will be leaving for Jandor soon. I’ve packed your bags and laid out some clothes in your room.’
Assa handed her a robe and Charlotte squeaked out, ‘Jandor?’
The girl nodded. ‘Yes, for the banquet dinner King Zafir is holding in Jahor palace, in honour of our king’s upcoming coronation.’ Assa’s eyes shone with excitement as she said, ‘I can’t wait to see Queen Kat—they say she’s even more beautiful than in her pictures.’
Charlotte smiled weakly and pulled the robe on. Of course. She’d completely forgotten about the scheduled trip to Jandor in the tumult of the past few days.
She followed Assa back to her rooms through a warren of back corridors—presumably to protect Charlotte’s sullied reputation.
She tried to stop herself wondering where Salim was, or if he was even marginally as affected as she was by the previous night.
* * *
Salim was already on his private jet when she stepped on board a few hours later. He looked up and there was no discernible expression on his face. Charlotte tried not to let that intimidate her, or to feel out of her depth. She had so little experience with this kind of thing.
When she took a seat on the other side of the aisle, directed there by a steward, she realised that Salim was listening to Rafa, who was sitting opposite him and had been hidden by the seat.
Salim stared at her, and his gaze drifted down over her silk shirt and plain trousers. When he met her eyes again he arched a brow.
She’d found herself choosing from her own clothes again, even though Assa had left out a traditional tunic, because at the last minute she’d felt as if she needed some fortification. Except now all she could think was that she’d dressed like this subconsciously to provoke a reaction, and she cringed inwardly.
Rafa stood up then, collecting a sheaf of papers, and bowed to Salim before smiling at Charlotte and taking his leave.
She asked, ‘Isn’t he travelling with us?’
The staff were busy closing the door as Salim said, ‘He’s travelling separately.’
He came out of his seat then, and was buckling her belt across her lap before she could move. His hands were big against her belly as he tightened it.
He looked at her and said, sotto voce, ‘Did you dress like that on purpose, Charlotte?’
A wave of heat scorched her insides, all the way to between her legs. She felt a spurt of something giddy and reckless. ‘Maybe I did.’
His eyes flashed and his hands lingered for a moment before the plane started moving on the runway and he took his seat again.
When they were airborne, and the staff had checked if they needed anything, Salim undid his belt and held out a hand to Charlotte across the aisle.
‘Come here,’ he instructed.
Charlotte glanced up the plane to where the steward was keeping himself discreetly busy. She looked back at Salim and melted inside. The look on his face was one of such innate imperiousness that she couldn’t understand how he didn’t see it in himself.
Undoing her belt, she stood up and felt ridiculously shy. Salim took her hand in his and tugged her towards him until she all but fell into his lap.
‘Salim!’ she hissed, mindful of the staff.
He just smiled wickedly as he curved her body into his much harder one. Charlotte felt hot and breathless and exhilarated. His hands were in her hair, undoing the smooth chignon that Assa had created with such assiduousness earlier.
‘Salim...’ She trailed off weakly as her hair fell down and he ran his hands through it, mussing it up. She’d already gathered that he liked to muss her up as much as possible.
‘Why do you do it?’ His voice rumbled against her breasts, which were pressed against his chest.
‘Do what?’ she asked, feeling dizzy.
His hand was on her back now, shaping her body under her silk shirt, finding where it was tucked into her trousers and sliding underneath to find bare skin.
‘Hide your true nature.’
Instantly Charlotte was tense. Her true nature was to seek order in a chaotic world by any means necessary, and to erect a façade that was becoming increasingly flimsy.
‘What do you mean?’ she asked warily.
He looked at her. ‘You’re a deeply passionate and sensual woman, Charlotte. Yet you hide behind these prim suits. You revelled in the freedom of the desert—you appreciated it in a way that most Western people would never understand. It called to something in you.’
Charlotte felt as if someone had pushed her off a cliff and she was free-falling. How was it that this man could see so much? She’d never thought of herself as passionate before...not until now. Until him. And, as for the desert, she did feel a deep affinity for it and she had no idea where it had come from.
Salim was looking at her.
She shrugged lightly, not really wanting to talk about this but unable to escape. ‘I always saw passion as something selfish...showy. Fickle. My parents were passionate, and then suddenly they weren’t. They detested each other.’ She avoided Salim’s eye, focusing on his shoulder. ‘I never trusted it, or wanted to be like them.’
Salim touched a finger to her chin, forcing her to look at him. ‘Well, it’s too late for that. You have it in spades. Passion and sensuality. I’m amazed you’ve lasted this long without letting anyone see that.’
A sharp poignancy filled Charlotte then, as she wondered what might have happened if she’d never met Salim. Would she have lived her life never knowing the true depth of pleasure a man could give a woman? Never knowing the true depth of her own nature?
She said a little shakily, ‘I could say the same to you. You’re a f
She felt the tension in Salim’s body as he reacted to that, but Charlotte knew she was right. He didn’t like it, though. She saw the shutters come down over his expression and his eyes glittered.
‘Don’t let lust infuse everything—including me—with a rose-coloured glow. I’m still the same, and I want the same things. This...what’s between us...will burn out. It always does.’
Charlotte felt a mix of hurt and anger. She tensed and pushed herself away from Salim as much as he would allow. ‘You don’t need to patronise me, I might have been a virgin, but I’m not completely innocent. I do know how these things work. My rose-tinted glasses got broken a long time ago.’
Tension simmered between them for a second, and then it changed into something hotter. The muscles in Salim’s face relaxed and his hand started wandering again, sliding up her bare back under her shirt, finding the clasp of her bra and undoing it expertly before she had a chance to stop him.
And it was too late. Her blood was boiling with lust now, and not anger.
He pressed a kiss to her jaw and said, ‘Good. We both know where we stand, then.’
As his wicked mouth and hands robbed her all too easily of speech and rational thought Charlotte wondered a little hysterically what she’d just agreed to—because it felt very much as if she’d just given Salim licence to toy with her for as long as it suited him.
And as for her confident assertion that her rose-tinted glasses had been broken long ago—that felt dangerously hollow now.
CHAPTER EIGHT
BY THE TIME they’d landed, and Charlotte was walking down the steps of the plane and into the blazing Jandor sunshine, she felt thoroughly mussed and extremely ill-prepared.
Just moments ago, when Charlotte had seen the car outside bearing the king’s flag, she’d rounded on Salim, feeling prickly and off-centre. She’d frantically tried to repair the damage done to her clothes, hair and make-up.
‘You should have warned me your brother and his wife were coming to meet us. What on earth will they think? I haven’t even briefed myself on everything I need to know about them and Jandor.’
For someone who’d always prided herself on her professional decorum, she’d felt very exposed.
Salim had just looked at her with a small smile playing around his mouth. ‘Charlotte, please don’t take this as a criticism of your ability, which is commendable, but even you would have to admit that your professional services haven’t exactly been exercised for the past couple of weeks.’
‘No,’ she said hotly, tucking her hair up as best she could, acutely aware of the royal entourage lining up outside the plane. ‘Because for one thing you wouldn’t let me do my job, and for another you proved to be far more of a natural diplomat than you’d ever like to admit.’
And distracting!
If she’d hoped to provoke a reaction it hadn’t worked. Salim had just coolly stood up and watched as she’d tucked herself in.
Now, a man who was undoubtedly Salim’s brother stood with a stunningly beautiful woman at the bottom of the steps.
King Zafir was of the same height and build as Salim, but where Salim’s eyes were blue Zafir’s were dark grey and deep-set. He had a more austere demeanour than Salim, and she could feel the tension snap between the two men as they greeted one another with the traditional clasping of the shoulders.
Queen Kat had been one of the world’s most famous supermodels until she’d disappeared off the scene almost two years before. It had since transpired that she’d suffered a cataclysmic trauma when she’d been involved in an accident and had had to have her lower left leg amputated.
Not that you would know it now, as she stood tall and regal beside her husband, with a warm but concerned look in her mesmerising golden eyes as she took in the exchange between the brothers.
Then King Zafir put out his hand towards Charlotte. ‘Miss McQuillan, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, and it’s even more of a pleasure to see that my brother has availed himself of your considerable services and professionalism.’
Charlotte felt her face get mortifyingly hot. She sensed Salim’s mocking look in her direction and took King Zafir’s hand, willing down the heat. ‘It’s lovely to meet you too. Call me Charlotte, please.’
Queen Kat stepped forward then, and Charlotte couldn’t help but be dazzled by her beauty and the very obviously happy glow of the recently married couple.
‘Charlotte, how lovely to meet you—welcome to Jahor.’
Her smile was genuine and Charlotte couldn’t fail to respond in kind.
Charlotte noticed that Salim greeted his new sister-in-law with polite civility, but not much warmth. It didn’t take a clairvoyant to sense that he wanted to be anywhere but here. It had been evident from his growing tension on the plane as soon as they’d entered Jandor airspace.
He said now, to his brother, ‘You really didn’t need to come all the way out here to meet us.’
King Zafir’s jaw tightened and Charlotte felt breathless for a second at how similar the men were.
‘I haven’t seen you since our father’s funeral. A trip to greet you at the airport was not a chore, brother.’
Salim flushed. He obviously knew he was being rude, and Charlotte had an instinct to put her hand into his, offering silent support but of course she couldn’t.
Queen Kat took her by the arm. ‘Come on, let’s go to the palace. I’m sure you could do with some refreshment.’
Charlotte smiled and let herself be led away to the first in a fleet of cars. It appeared that she was to travel with Kat and that the brothers would travel together in the car behind. She saw that King Zafir had got into the driver’s seat and Salim into the passenger one, looking stony-faced. Charlotte wondered why there was such a schism between them—surely their adverse relationship with their parents should have bonded them?
Kat chatted easily in the back of their car, and Charlotte found herself relaxing as they wound their way up the narrow streets to the palace.
She said shyly, ‘Congratulations on your wedding.’
Kat smiled radiantly. ‘Thank you. Sometimes I still can’t believe it myself. My life has changed so utterly, and I won’t lie and say that becoming queen doesn’t intimidate me every day!’ She scrunched up her nose. ‘But, not wanting to sound too corny about it, with Zafir by my side I feel capable of pretty much anything. I just want to make him proud—and Jandor.’
It shook Charlotte to see this evidence of their loving bond up close, and she didn’t think it was just newly wedded bliss. From what she recalled, the couple had been together before, but had split up before Kat’s catastrophic accident and had since reunited. A little dart of what felt like envy gripped her down low in her belly, at the sight of such devotion.
They were pulling into the palace forecourt now, and Kat put a hand on Charlotte’s arm, saying with a pointed look at her blouse, ‘You might want to redo your buttons before we get out.’
Charlotte looked down and gasped when she realised her shirt buttons were done up haphazardly. She rectified the situation with a flaming face, and vowed silently to kill Salim for not warning her. But then she caught Kat’s eye again, and saw that the woman had a sympathetic but amused look on her face.
‘Don’t worry, it’s not that obvious. But I do know what it’s like to fall for an Al-Noury man.’
Charlotte shook her head, and opened her mouth to deny it automatically—but then shut it again when words wouldn’t come. A feeling of dread mixed with exhilaration infused her whole body. And a very stark revelation. She was falling for Salim.
It took her a second to focus on the woman looking at her so sympathetically, as if she knew exactly what had just gone through Charlotte’s head.
Stunned and feeling winded, Charlotte asked, ‘Is it that obvious?’
Kat’s smile was knowing. ‘What you were getting up to on the plane? Yes. But as for anything deeper—it’s only obvious to me because your expression reminds me of how I feel when I look at my own husband.’
Someone was opening Charlotte’s door now, and she took the opportunity to escape from Kat’s sympathetic golden gaze.
When she was out of the car, the awe-inspiring golden magnificence of the Jahor palace distracted her from what had just transpired.
The place was a hive of activity as Kat walked her through the ornate entrance, saying, ‘I know Zafir wants to talk business with Salim, so I thought we could take refreshments in the garden?’
‘Please don’t feel you have to entertain me,’ Charlotte said quickly, acutely aware that Kat must be busy with the banquet that evening. And more acutely feeling a need to go somewhere private and quiet, where she could assimilate what had just happened.
But the queen said, with her soft American twang, ‘Honestly, you’ll be doing me a favour. I’m shamelessly using you as a decoy to get them to talk while they can. And I won’t bring up what we just spoke of unless you do.’
Charlotte admitted defeat in the face of Kat’s easy warmth and charm. She’d never been a girly girl, but for the first time she could imagine that she would like a woman like Kat as a friend.
She smiled. ‘If you’re sure I’m not putting you out?’
Kat took her arm again and shepherded her through the palace, past vast corridors and beautiful courtyard gardens. ‘I’m sure. Now, I want to hear all about what it is exactly that you do, because it sounds totally fascinating...’
About an hour later Charlotte was even more impressed with Kat. She knew the woman was an amputee, but apart from a small but definite limp it was impossible to tell—especially when her cream and gold kaftan effectively hid any sign of a prosthetic leg.
Kat was showing her the gardens after a delicious tea, and Charlotte stopped when she saw the entrance into a walled garden where a fountain of water burbled into an exquisite pool and wild exotic flowers bloomed in every corner.
Unable to stop herself, she walked to the entrance and looked in. Kat came alongside her and Charlotte said, ‘It’s beautiful...so peaceful.’
-->
