by Pippa Roscoe
‘You tried that, habibti.’
‘And you found me.’
He took a deep breath. ‘I wouldn’t have. Not without Malik. I still think he only told me because of my father’s death.’ She looked down at her hands. ‘How did you do it?’
‘Do what?’
‘Manage to convince one of the most loyal men I know to betray me.’
A sad smile covered her features. Almost conciliatory. As if she knew how much that betrayal had hurt. ‘Would it help if I said it wasn’t about you?’
‘That man’s whole life has been about me.’
She sighed. ‘He knew about Jarhan.’
‘Sweet Lord—am I the only one who didn’t?’
‘No,’ she said lightly, almost affectionately. ‘No. But Malik knew because the protection detail knew. It was part of Jarhan’s main concern. That he might give Farrehed’s enemies a weakness in your rule.’
‘But that is not why Malik obtained the passport, Eloise.’
‘No... He followed me after you had told me to leave. Found me. It must have been quite a shock for him. I was throwing things into a suitcase and my father was on speaker phone. I was asking to come home, but he wouldn’t allow it. Said that if I set foot in England he would have my mother transferred to a clinic—that he would bury her under the weight of the world’s press. Ensure that I never saw her again.’
Odir heard the tremor in her voice and could only imagine what her fear must have been like then, on that night.
‘I’ve... I’ve never felt more helpless in my life, Odir. There I was—a princess, wife of a sheikh soon to be a ruler of nations—and I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t come to you. I couldn’t go home. Malik cut the phone call, sat me down and made me tell him everything. For five hours we talked about different options and came up with a plan. I asked him. I asked him why he was willing to help me.’
‘Did he tell you?’ Odir asked.
He very much doubted that Malik would have revealed how close to the bone Eloise’s story would have cut him. The only people who knew about Malik’s past were Malik, his family, and Odir.
‘All he said was that so long as he knew where I was, what name I was under, then he would help. Now I see that the person he was helping was you.’
* * *
Eloise knew that she should feel hurt by that realisation. But she didn’t. She was pleased that there was someone who looked out for her husband. The husband who was surrounded by hundreds of people, all ready to serve and protect him, but none to care for him. None to put him first.
His mother’s death had left him adrift, in the hands of a father so cut down by grief he had been jealous of his son’s power. He had mistrusted and distanced himself from the first person he should have been caring for. And, God, did she know how much that hurt.
But she did care for her husband. She felt the knowledge settle within her, warm her, spreading throughout her body and mind like wildfire, energising her thoughts and actions.
Restless, she got up from the chair and walked through the suite, curious as to its layout and its luxury, until she found herself in an elaborate bedroom, designed with the same glory as the rest of the embassy.
The sight of the large, modern, sleek bed reminded Eloise of Odir’s promise earlier that evening, and in an instant her body was ready. She ran her fingers over lips that still felt bruised from their earlier kisses, wanting to cover her mouth, to stop the words that were filling her heart from falling from her lips. Otherwise they’d escape, and they’d speak of her feelings for him, of this new, delicate love she had found.
She knew he wasn’t ready to hear those words from her. Not yet. But perhaps she could show him. With her touches...with her kisses.
The ripple of desire lifted the hairs on her arms. Her body was throbbing between legs which she drew together to clamp down on the wet heat of need. How had she become so cravenly wanton in just a matter of hours?
Odir loomed behind her and the air about them which had so recently been full of confession was suddenly thick with desire. Eloise inhaled it deeply, wanting it to fill her, needing it. Her body moved of its own volition, pressing back against the hard planes of her husband’s chest. Someone groaned—whether it was her or him Eloise couldn’t tell any more.
His lips came down upon her bare shoulder and his arms wrapped around her breast and lower stomach. He gathered the silk of her gown in his hand, bunching it against the top of her thigh, whilst his fingers played with her nipple already hard beneath his touch.
‘I keep my promises, habibti,’ he whispered wickedly in her ear.
She heard the desperation that quivered in his words...rejoiced in the fact that he was as quickly undone as she. Her arms reached behind her, bringing him and his arousal closer against her body. The action reminded her of earlier that evening, when they had been beneath the night sky. And this time she knew it was she who groaned, the sensuality of the sound shocking herself.
‘When you make that noise it drives me wild, Eloise. Look what you do to me,’ he said, turning her in his arms to face him. ‘Look.’
The guttural tone of his words ran through her. She did see what she did to him. And she wanted to show him what he did to her. How he made her feel. What he’d given back to her in these last hours. The undoing of the past. She wanted to show him how it could be. What their marriage could be like.
He took her hand and pressed it against the length of his powerful arousal. Hard, hot and utterly the most magnificent thing she had ever felt. To have this man—this ruler of a kingdom—at her command was inconceivable. And she wanted it more than she wanted her next breath.
His mouth came down on hers and she relished it. Relished the power that burned between them now that they had been stripped bare of all the lies and secrets. Each time they had come together it had been to use this passion, this insatiable need, in order to escape. But she wasn’t hiding any more. All of her was open to him, exposed to him in a way she hadn’t been before.
And it was shocking in its intensity.
If she had thought coming together with him before had been incredible, it was nothing in comparison to this. She clung to every second, every touch, every taste, revelling in the energy that brought her alive within his embrace.
As his tongue pressed into her mouth she took it, long and deep, within her. She fought to match him, plunged her own tongue into the wet heat of his. Instead of bringing capitulation it enflamed their mutual desire. Teeth scraped against tongues, lips grazed against teeth, and heart clashed against heart.
His hands came down around her backside and lifted her against him. Her shoes dropped onto the floor as he marched them over to the bed. Instead of letting her go he stood there, holding her in his arms, allowing her open legs to press against his erection, and she shifted her hips forward to feel the tip of his arousal meet her core.
She rocked her hips once more and it was enough.
He knelt on the bed and laid her down, maintaining a kiss that served only to bring them closer. He kicked off his shoes, tore at his shirt, and as she lifted her dress over her head he rid himself of his trousers and underwear.
He stood over her, naked and glorious. ‘I need you, Eloise,’ he said, his voice grave and thick with passion.
* * *
She nodded, but it wasn’t enough. Odir needed to hear her say it too. The extent of that need scared him, but now was not a time for fear.
He spread her beautiful legs, opening her to him.
‘Say it.’
He saw her struggle to find the words and something primal rose within him. Primal and demanding.
‘Say it.’
He watched as the look in her eyes transformed into something fierce—a recognition of what he needed and what she so desperately wanted. She was utterly glorious, naked and perfect. Her breasts rose in time with her short breaths and Odir knew that he was standing on a precipice—that it was more than desire burning between them.<
br />
‘I need you too.’
He sank into her warm, wet heat, pressing as far as he could possibly reach, and there—up to the hilt—he finally found what he had been looking for.
But somehow it still wasn’t enough.
She was wrapped around his length, and he felt sensation upon sensation as she raised her hips to take him even further. His curses littered the air about them as he lifted her leg from the bed and placed it over his shoulder, finding an even deeper purchase. Her impassioned gasp teased him, and he silently promised them both that he would make this marriage more. More than it had been.
He withdrew so slowly, so exquisitely, and despite his intention of driving her wild with need he nearly came. He withdrew completely and then returned to her, so deeply inside her that he felt entwined with her—more than him and more than her, something new and bigger than each of them alone.
* * *
How could one person feel all these things? Eloise wondered.
The need within her was rising to an unfamiliar height as again he withdrew from her, but this time she wasn’t going to let him have his way. She reached behind him and drew him back into her. But the illusion of power was simply that—an illusion. He had let her have control and she thanked him for it. She pulled him against her, pressing him deeper within her, and smiled when he accused her of trying to kill him.
Her husband had given her the freedom to vent her wildest fantasies, and whilst she might not have experience her body knew what it desired, what it needed. He must have read it in her expression, seen it in her eyes, because right there, buried deep within her, he gathered her in his arms and rolled onto his back.
Eloise shifted her legs, her knees either side of his thighs, and almost cried out loud. Never before had she experienced this kind of completeness or felt so connected to another person.
She rocked forwards and backwards and knew from the words that exploded from Odir’s mouth that he was as close as she was to orgasm. She savoured this moment...the power that she had to give them what they both so desperately wanted. She felt powerful in all the ways she once had not.
But soon all thought was driven from her mind as cries of pleasure fell from her lips, drowned in the sound of Odir’s ragged breath, and she was launched into a world of starlight and sensation as the two of them found their completion.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
August 2nd, 06.00-07.00, Farrehed Embassy
FOR A MOMENT Eloise thought it might have been the sound of the shower that had pulled her from her dreamless sleep. For a second she was confused. She looked about the room, but knew she wasn’t in Heron Tower any more. Then it came again. A pounding on the door. The kind of urgent pounding that refused to be ignored.
Odir flung the door of the bathroom back on its hinges and she could almost believe that it had left a dent in the wall.
‘What?’ he barked from the bedroom, his voice clearly travelling far enough to reach the intruder out in the hall.
Eloise shook her head, trying to dislodge the webs of sleep that had wrapped themselves around her mind. She looked at the clock and could scarcely believe that she’d been asleep for only twenty minutes. She felt as if she’d slept for a year.
She could hear hushed voices through the wall, and knew that the world was about to intrude.
And what would they find? A naked, soon-to-be queen lying in her husband’s bed! She bit back a smile that wouldn’t quit from the way that Odir had made her feel...protected, safe...loved.
And that was what it was. The excitement thrumming through her veins. The thought that after all this time, all the secrets, all the truths of that night, it was possible to fall in love in only ten hours.
But it wasn’t just ten hours. She had known Odir for two years. She had watched him bear the weight of his country, watched him care for his brother, struggle with his father, confront the past and transform into an intensely passionate lover.
Any lingering tiredness she felt was pushed away with the tingling buzz of optimism and hope. After all this time could she actually find happiness with Odir? Could she find someone who would love her?
Next door, the tenor of the conversation had changed, and with a small squeak she leapt out of bed and hurried through to the bathroom, closing the door behind her and trapping herself in the heat and steam of Odir’s recent shower.
She wiped the mist that had gathered over the large mirror. Her reflection showed a woman truly ravished, bright-eyed and admittedly looking a little crazy. She took a deep breath. It would be fine. They would find a way to make it through the next few hours, and then the next few days. They would make it work.
Her mother was seeking support for her addiction, Natalia would also have the help she needed. Farrehed would have the ruler it deserved and she would have the husband she had always wanted. It was possible—and it was all within her reach.
She gave her reflection a small victorious smile and then stepped beneath the hot spray of the shower.
* * *
‘It is impossible. I cannot do it,’ Odir said, trying to keep the fury from his voice. Even in front of his aide he must keep his controlled façade.
He thought back to minutes earlier, when he had let it slip. For his wife, and—God help him—for himself.
‘My King, they need this reassurance.’
‘I appreciate that, Lamir, but it is not going to happen. My first priority upon returning to Farrehed will be to address my people. Not to meet the ruler of Kalaran. Our allies will have time with me, but it won’t be until after the funeral.’
‘But—’
‘There are no buts.’
Odir looked around the suite that had been blissfully empty only moments before. Now he felt as if he had been invaded by soldiers—suited and booted individuals armed with laptops, stacks of paper and pens, shooting demands at him left, right and centre.
Another aide thrust a piece of paper into his hand and he marvelled at how he was supposed to feel regal and all-powerful when he seemed to be at the mercy of his staff. The document was the approval for the opening of talks with Farrehed’s desert tribal leaders in an attempt to begin the healing process.
Why did he feel as if he’d just ripped open a wound? All night he’d felt driven to the point in time when, in one hour, he would announce his father’s death. All night he’d ensured that what needed to be done had been done. That all the players who were needed were in place.
He’d felt capable, driven, motivated. And yet suddenly now he was feeling helpless, unsure, a little bit lost. And it had nothing to do with the chaos surrounding him. It was to do with the woman one room away, standing in the centre of the storm with him.
It was already beginning. He should be focusing on all the things that must be done, but he was completely distracted by his wife.
‘Sir, I need you to sign the release form on the press briefing.’
‘I appreciate that...’ He searched for the bespectacled kid’s name—the man couldn’t be more than twenty-two—but it eluded him. ‘But I’m sure that you wouldn’t want news to get out that the first official communication dealt with by the new Sheikh of Farrehed was approved when he was wearing a dressing gown and nothing else.’
He was sure that it was only a will almost as strong as his own that prevented the fresh-faced aide from casting him a full-length appraisal.
‘Five minutes.’
‘But, Sir—’
In lieu of a response Odir glared at the boy for a full ten seconds before he left the room.
Odir could do nothing to prevent the curse falling from his lips as he slammed the bedroom door behind him, startling Eloise as she came out of the bathroom wrapped in nothing but a fluffy white towel.
‘We have company,’ he said, in response to her raised eyebrow.
‘So I gathered.’
‘And by “company” I mean about twenty people crammed into what should be considered a luxurious and sizeable living room. The
y seem to be going to war using technology and documents.’
‘We’ll handle it,’ she said.
There was something different about her. Something he didn’t want to question. He knew they would handle it. They had to.
‘I have to get dressed.’
‘That’s a shame,’ she replied.
And, again, he couldn’t quite fathom the almost flirtatious nature of her tone.
‘Shame or not, it has to be done. Hair and Make-Up need the room.’
‘You’re having your hair and make-up done?’
‘No, Eloise, you are.’
‘Oh.’
He regretted his words the instant that warm smile disappeared from her features.
He went to the wardrobe and pulled out the suit that had been waiting for him there since yesterday afternoon. Right next to the hanger that contained her dress. It had been hastily vetted by the PR team and now he wondered whether it might be a bit loose, considering the weight Eloise had lost in the last few months.
He ruthlessly pushed that thought from his mind. Right now he needed to focus on what was going on next door.
He stepped into his boxers and pulled on the suit trousers, aware that Eloise’s eyes never once left his body. He felt a strange heat enter his bones, lying thick in his veins, and forced back the desire that began to throb within him.
‘I won’t...’ He struggled to find words, strangely tongue-tied before his wife. ‘I won’t have much time for you today. After the press conference we’ll be moving to the airfield from where we’ll fly to Farrehed.’
* * *
If anything could cut through the fog of desire building between them, Eloise thought, that was it.
She knew it was time to put on the mask. That she would wear the dress that she had noticed hanging in the wardrobe next to the suit her husband would be wearing. A dress that had been picked out for her most probably before she’d even left Zurich.
But where once she had thought that this was the part she hated, Eloise now steeled herself. She wanted to be there, standing beside her husband when he made his announcement to the world’s press. Wanted to support him in this. So she would wear that dress the same way she would continue to wear his ring. As his bride and as his Queen.
