Conquering His Virgin Queen (Harlequin Presents)

by Pippa Roscoe

  It had been a moment stolen from time, as simple as a man and a woman coming together in sheer passion, with no thought to anything else. But they weren’t just a man and a woman. They were King and Queen. And what they had just shared was the last moment of its kind that he could afford to take.

  He was now the ruler of a country, he was now the Sheikh. And that had to be—could only be—his one priority. But the events of the last few hours—the revelations he’d uncovered about his wife—made him wonder what kind of ruler he would be.

  For so long he had been safe and secure in the knowledge that he would be so much better than his father. Guilt and grief sliced through him at the thought, but he couldn’t allow that to overtake him. With his father gone, he now stood alone. But the doubt that had been held at bay for so long was creeping in through his carefully constructed barriers.

  He had been a truly awful brother, ignoring what had been plain to see, what his wife had seen and known. He had been a terrible husband, failing to ask the questions that would have resolved so much between them, failing to support and protect his wife.

  Protect his wife.

  The words rang through him with a completely different meaning. It was the second time that night that they hadn’t used protection and Eloise might be pregnant with his child.

  The realisation was truly sobering, and the image of a small child with his dark skin and her blue eyes sprang into his mind and lodged itself into his heart. Along with the desire and need to be better than his father—more than a distant, commanding figure shaping a small child, paving over the secret wants and wishes contained in that child’s heart and moulding him into being something else, someone else... He wouldn’t be that person. He would never be like his father.

  Again guilt and sorrow poured salt on to a painful open wound. He had long ago grieved for the man who had once shown him love, for the loss of his mother, and the moment he had realised that his father was human, was fallible, had faults... That was the moment Odir had truly become a man.

  He never wanted his child to feel that same crashing sensation. Oh, it would happen, he was sure—Odir was not arrogant enough to think himself perfect. But still...

  His father had chosen to indulge in pain, zealousness and misery. He had taken the love he had once felt for his wife and children and turned it into something bitter and damaging. And Odir knew that his country wouldn’t survive if it suffered the same again. Odir would never willingly allow that threat to his people. But deep down he knew it wasn’t just his people he was protecting. It was himself.

  So within his mind he slowly began to rebuild the walls around his heart—brick by brick, second by second—until everything that had been undone by Eloise in the last two hours was erased. No matter what happened after tonight—no matter what happened in the next few weeks and months—he had to make sure that his feelings for Eloise were not something that would risk the future of his country...the future of his heart.

  But before he could speak to Eloise of the future he had one last thing to say about the past—words that were now bursting from his chest.

  ‘Eloise, I’m so sorry. For what I said to you earlier this evening. For what I thought of you.’

  ‘We never really had a chance, did we?’ she said, her sad smile offering sympathy, offering understanding.

  ‘But we do now. We can make a go of it now. I will help you maintain Natalia’s medical care. I will do whatever I can to help your mother in whatever way you want.’

  * * *

  Still lying on top of him, Eloise felt his breath against her neck, heard the words that he whispered into her ear, and wrapped herself in this new vow he was making to her. His apology soothed the sting of the past and she knew that he meant it. She knew that for the first time in her entire life there was someone to share her burden. To share her fear and the weight of the responsibility she had borne for so long.

  ‘But Eloise, I can give you nothing more than that.’

  He paused as if to let his words sink in. As if to allow her time to hear the truth falling from his lips.

  ‘I cannot give you love. You were right—I do know how to love, I can and I have. But my love has now gone to my people. All of it. I have none left to give you.’

  It hurt. More than she had ever thought it would. Her stomach cramped and she was surprised that her body didn’t curl in on itself the way she wanted it so desperately to do.

  Here in his arms, with his body beneath her, she felt a part of the past break away and disappear into the night. And with it came the realisation that in the last six months of trying to ensure her friend’s safety she had experienced the very freedom that she had always yearned for.

  Yes, she could walk away now—she could leave. If Odir wanted he could tell her father where to find her, could tell him that she had broken her promise to him and to her mother. Not that she thought he would... She could leave it all behind. But what would happen to Farrehed? What would happen to Odir?

  When she had agreed to the marriage her father had arranged with Odir she had thought he might rescue her. When she’d realised that wasn’t the case she had tried to make the best of it. When he had thrown her aside she had taken the opportunity and run. She had protected her friend and lived a lie for six months.

  Looking back, Eloise realised that at each turn, with every step, she had been thinking only of herself. She had not thought of the man she’d married. She had not thought of the people who had become her people.

  If she was willing—if she could put aside her own broken heart and step back into the world of royal responsibility—then she could ensure the future and the security of everyone she cared for. How on earth could she put her own wishes above all that? And if in the last few hours Odir had managed to uncover a want that she had never known she had—a want for someone, anyone, to love her for who she was and not for what she could do or what she could be—well, that wasn’t his fault.

  She shut her ears against the echo of a childlike voice, one from a distant memory, broken with tears, that was still asking to be loved.

  Confused and hurt, desperate to reach out and comfort her past self and her future self, assuring both that one day they would all be okay, Eloise fought within herself. She had proved to herself that she was stronger than she had ever thought. She had started over again in a new country under a different identity. But in all that time there had been one thing missing from her life. And she realised now that it had been her husband.

  If she decided to return to him desperately hoping that one day he’d love her the way he loved his people, she would never forgive herself. Because, no matter how weak and needy that part of her heart was, she would never be like her mother. But if she chose to return to Odir’s side simply to protect her friend, with the hope that she might one day be able to protect her mother and protect the people of their country...

  ‘Eloise—’

  ‘I understand,’ she interrupted.

  ‘You agree to become my wife? To be Queen of my country and mother to my children? You agree to all that?’

  She inhaled—pressing her feet to the floor and drawing strength from the solid wood beneath her toes—and exhaled the words Odir longed to hear.

  ‘I agree.’

  * * *

  For the first time in what seemed like an age Odir felt the true flush of complete victory rush through him. It was in no way nearly as powerful as the heights of pleasure that had coursed through his veins as he had found completion within her, but it was no less important.

  He told himself that he hadn’t recognised the way her eyes had dimmed as she’d said the words. He told himself that he’d imagined he had seen that same look in her eyes when he’d left her alone on their wedding night. He supressed the twinge that had tightened around his heart—a twinge that felt oddly like guilt—and instead made his quick mind fly to what had to happen next.

  They needed to get to the embassy for the press conference so t
hat he could become the powerful ruler his people really needed. They didn’t have much time.

  He stood up from the bench, holding his hand out to her, and felt the warmth eaten away by the cool touch of her skin. He brought her to her feet and they left the balcony, the past, and all the words and kisses they had exchanged behind them.

  He glanced again at his watch as they silently walked to the corridor where the lift would take them to the suite. Malik was standing in the shadows, watching them from under hooded eyes. Odir bit down against what felt a little like censure coming off his guard in waves.

  ‘Arrange for the limo to meet us downstairs in twenty minutes.’

  Malik’s silent nod poked again at his conscience—as did his wife’s bowed head, reflected over and over and over again in the mirror-lined lift. He fought against the urge to lift her chin and see into the azure depths of her eyes—eyes that would tell him what was going on in her mind. There was a secret, cowardly part of him that didn’t want to know.

  They entered the suite and Eloise pulled up short.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Your bags. They’ve been packed.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘You knew I would agree?’

  The hurt and the accusation in the eyes he’d wanted to see only moments before cut through him now like a knife.

  ‘Yes,’ he said simply.

  Because he couldn’t deny it. There had been no other acceptable outcome from this evening.

  He watched her gaze run over the room, taking in the fact that all the signs of their lovemaking, all the signs of the chaos they had lost themselves to, had been erased. A delicate blush came to her cheeks and he watched her realise that some unseen hand had wiped away the traces of their passion and returned the room to its previous state.

  ‘When will I be able to see Natalia? There are things I need to finish up in Zurich.’

  Her question surprised him. The intrusion of the life that she had left him for was strangely unwelcome to him.

  ‘Soon. I will look into having Natalia brought to Farrehed for the best medical treatment available.’

  He watched a crease appear between her delicate brows.

  ‘Habibti?’

  ‘Natalia needs a kidney transplant. And I’m not sure that taking her away from possible matches would be for the best right now... I don’t suppose you’d let me return to Switzerland before coming to Farrehed?’

  ‘I need you, Eloise.’

  * * *

  The timbre of his voice sent shivers into her heart, made her tremble with hope—until he finished his sentence.

  ‘You will need to be by my side as much as possible, especially in these first few months.’

  ‘Then Natalia should stay in Switzerland until after a transplant can be done. Odir, I’m telling you now that when that happens I will be by her side.’

  He clearly saw the determination she channelled into her gaze, her voice, and nodded his acceptance.

  ‘No matter what political or royal appointment it might interrupt?’

  ‘No matter what. Eloise, your friend is important to you—I understand that.’

  Just not enough for her to be allowed to say goodbye Eloise thought sadly.

  But Natalia would understand. While they had been in Switzerland she and Natalia had spoken often of Odir. After two months Natalia had stopped urging her to speak to the husband that Natalia had never met.

  Once again Eloise found herself wondering how—in spite of the awful treatment from her own fiancé and the painful abandonment of her family—Natalia had retained such an optimistic hope that everything would be all right in the end.

  ‘I’m going to have a shower,’ Odir said, his words cutting through her thoughts. ‘Is there anything you need to do to prepare for your return?’

  ‘My boss knew that I would be away for at least a week. I arranged for one of the other PAs to cover in my absence. I can get in touch with him later and let him know. But I should call my mother. Even if she doesn’t see the press conference, word will reach her soon enough.’

  A decisive nod of his proud dark head was Odir’s only reaction as he padded through to the bedroom.

  It would be around seven in the morning in Kuwait, so hopefully she wouldn’t have to wake her mother. She dialled the number at her parents’ current posting, knowing that her father wouldn’t answer the phone. Her parents still slept in separate rooms, and Eloise felt safe in the knowledge that she could have a conversation with her mother unhindered by his presence. She just hoped that her mother would be sober enough to listen...

  The sound of the ringing through the phone line felt uncomfortably loud in her head.

  ‘Hello?’

  Her mother’s voice sounded uniquely absent of sleep and drugs, and Eloise’s heart clenched at the thought that her mother might have somehow been expecting her call.

  ‘Hi, Mum,’ she replied.

  ‘Oh, it is you. Your fath—David has been all over the place, announcing his royal grandchild to anyone who would listen.’

  For a moment Eloise was utterly confused. And then the events from hours before came flooding back, and she could hardly credit that the news had got out so quickly.

  ‘Mum, there’s no—’

  ‘He’s so happy, Eloise. Honestly, I can’t thank you enough.’

  A stinging burn of acid hit the back of her throat to hear her mother’s happiness at Odir’s lie. She pushed down the familiar, impotent anger that rose within her whenever her mother illustrated just how dependent she was on her husband’s good mood. She wanted to reach through the phone and shake some sense into the older woman, but knew it would do no good.

  For the first time that evening she had sympathy for Odir, who saw love as a weakness, as a destructive, hurtful thing. He didn’t realise that it was the person who wielded love that caused such weakness. Not the emotion itself.

  ‘I told Odir. About everything.’

  She felt her mother’s silence as if it were a shout.

  ‘It’s okay, Mum. He’s promised not to say anything to anyone. I know I promised you that I wouldn’t tell anyone, but keeping a secret from my husband... Mum, it’s a promise I couldn’t keep.’

  The silence from the other end of the phone was white-hot. Eloise held her breath, realising that even now she couldn’t predict how her mother would react. Whether she would be angry...whether she would break down.

  ‘You could come with me, Mum,’ Eloise said.

  She might not have asked Odir, but she knew he’d allow it—make it happen if he could. Again, that small part of herself that hoped her mother would choose her this time—would choose her over the drugs, over her husband—raised its head. ‘You could leave him and—’

  ‘No. I... It’s my whole life, Eloise. I know what I’m doing here. With David. He needs me. If I were to come to Farrehed everything would be different. I wouldn’t know where to start. I wouldn’t know how to...’

  Wouldn’t know how to be the mother that she needed, Eloise realised. Her mother didn’t know how to be that, and nor did she have the strength to try to be that. Angelina Harris’s addiction was too strong for her to choose a difficult path. To choose her daughter and leave her husband.

  ‘I’m getting help. Here. I am. I am, Eloise. But I need to do it here.’

  Without you, Eloise finished in her mind.

  Not for the first time she hoped that her mother was telling the truth, but this time, as if looking at her mother from a distance, she viewed her words with another meaning. Her mother was making her own kind of sacrifice and it was the only thing her mother’s kind of love made her capable of. To let Eloise go. To let her be free of the responsibility of her mother.

  ‘I hope that you will visit one day, Mum. But I’m saying this now—David will not set one foot in Farrehed.’

  Another silence—and yet this time it was a settled one. An accord between mother and daughter.

  ‘I understand,’ her
mother replied.

  They said their goodbyes, and Eloise wondered when or even if she would see her mother again.

  She looked up to see Odir standing in the bedroom doorway, his frame illuminated from behind, casting his face in shadow.

  ‘How much did you hear?’ Eloise asked, unable to discern his features.

  ‘Enough.’

  ‘I hope that I wasn’t being presumptuous—about my father.’

  ‘If you hadn’t said it, habibti, I would have,’ he replied.

  His words sent a ripple of satisfaction and rightness into the hurt, cold part of her, warming her just a little. A sad smile played on her lips as she passed him on her way to the bathroom.

  In less than ten minutes she had showered and dressed, redone her make-up and hair as best she could. All the while trying not to acknowledge the depth of feelings in her heart.

  She emerged from the bathroom and entered the suite to find Odir waiting for her.

  ‘The limo is here.’

  Odir was holding out his hand and she knew that she must take it. That it was time to accept her responsibilities just as Odir accepted his.

  Perhaps they were not so different from each other after all.

  CHAPTER TEN

  August 2nd, 05.00-06.00, Farrehed Embassy

  ELOISE PEERED THROUGH the blacked-out windows of the luxurious limo that glided through the quiet streets. The last time she had been out in London had been years ago, when she and Natalia had celebrated the end of university. Then the city had been packed full of drunk revellers, pouring out of nightclubs, but now bulletproof tinted glass protected her from roads empty save for cleaners and refuse collectors.

  London felt a million miles away from Farrehed. The dark stone slabs of Fleet Street rose up about them—so different from the bright sandstone of Hathren, Farrehed’s main city. And equally different from the neat, structured streets of Zurich.