Beholden to the Throne

by Carol Marinelli

  ‘Not the man you were expecting?’

  ‘Actually, no.’ She didn’t have to explain herself and refused to, because even if he had seen her ex drop her off it was none of his business any more.

  ‘You’re a very hard person to find.’

  ‘Am I?’

  ‘Your mother wouldn’t give me your address.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have expected her to.’ Amy gave a tight shrug. ‘So how did you find me?’

  ‘Less than honourable ways,’ he admitted.

  He was powerful enough to get anything he set his mind to, and she must remember to keep her guard up around him. She could not take any more hurt, but she had to know one thing. ‘Are the girls okay?’

  ‘They’re fine,’ Emir said. ‘Well, they miss you a lot.’

  She remembered standing in his office, telling him practically the same thing, and she remembered how it had changed nothing. Yet she did ask him in—she had to know what he was here for, had to see this conversation through in the hope that she might one day move on.

  ‘Are they here in London?’

  ‘ No.’

  Emir quickly crushed that hope, but perhaps it was for the best, because she could not bear to say goodbye to them again.

  ‘They have a new nanny. She is younger and not as rigid as Fatima. They are just starting to really settle in with her and I didn’t think I should interrupt—’

  ‘Emir, please …’ She put a hand up to stop him. She really didn’t need to hear how quickly and how well they were adapting to her replacement. ‘I’m glad the girls are fine.’

  She forced a smile and then for the first time since he’d arrived at her door remembered he was a sheikh king, she honestly forgot at times, and now that she remembered she didn’t really know what to do with him.

  Aware of her rather sparse furnished rental, and wondering if instant coffee would do, she remembered her manners and forced a smile for him. ‘Would you like a drink?’

  ‘I came here to talk to you.’

  ‘You could have done that on the phone.’ Except now she’d lost hers, Amy remembered. But what had seemed so devastating a few moments ago became a triviality. ‘Have a seat. I’ll make a drink.’

  ‘I didn’t come here for a drink.’

  ‘Well, I’m having one.’

  She headed to the fridge and opened it, grateful for the cool blast of air as she rummaged around and found some wine and then looked for glasses. She was glad for something to do—needed to have her back to him for a couple of moments as she composed herself. Amy did not want her broken heart on clear display to him, for she could be hurt so easily.

  ‘What are you thinking?’ Emir asked, the tiny kitchen area shrinking as he stepped in.

  ‘Do you really want to know?’

  ‘I really want to know.’

  ‘That it’s just as well this is a screwtop bottle because I don’t have a corkscrew …’

  ‘Amy!’

  ‘And I’m wondering what happened to all the people who made the corks.’ She was, and she was also wondering if the trees they came from were called cork trees, because it was safer than thinking about the man who was in her home, the man who was standing right behind her now. She knew that if she turned around it would be to a man she could not resist.

  ‘What else are you thinking?’

  ‘That it is cruel that you are here,’ Amy said. ‘That I don’t want to be your mistress.’ She stopped pouring the wine. She was making a mess of it anyway. Her eyes were filling with tears and she couldn’t really see; she screwed her eyes closed as his hand touched her arm and swore to be strong as he turned her around. ‘And I’m thinking how right I was to leave—that I don’t want to be with you.’

  ‘I don’t believe that,’ he said.

  And his mouth was there, and already she was weakening. That in itself forced her to be strong, made her look into his eyes to speak. ‘I wouldn’t even want to be your wife.’

  ‘I don’t believe that either.’

  ‘I mean it.’ She reminded herself that she did. ‘As I’ve said before, if you were my husband and they were my children I’d have left ages ago.’

  ‘I told you that there were reasons I could not be the father I wanted to be for them, but those reasons are gone now.’

  She shook her head. ‘I don’t want you, Emir.’

  ‘You do want me.’

  He was so bloody arrogant, so assured … so right.

  ‘ No.’

  ‘That’s not what your body is saying.’

  He ran a hand down her arms, then removed it. She shivered, for only his touch could warm her.

  ‘And it’s not what I see in your eyes.’

  So she hid them, lowered her head, and because the bench was behind her and she could not step back she lifted her hands to push him—yet she dared not touch. ‘Just go, Emir,’ she begged. ‘I can’t think straight when you’re around.’

  ‘I know,’ Emir said.

  She shook her head, because how could he know how it felt? After all, he was standing calm and controlled and she was a trembling mess.

  ‘I know how impossible it is to make a wise decisions when love clouds the issue.’

  She did look up then, shocked to hear him speak of love. A gasp came from her lips when he spoke next, when he said what no king should. ‘I have been considering abdicating.’

  ‘No.’ He must not think it—let alone say it. She knew from her time in Alzan the implications, knew how serious this was, but Emir went on undaunted. This distant man invited her closer, and not just to his body, but to his mind; he pulled her in so her head was on his chest as he told her, shared with her his hell.

  ‘Whenever I saw the twins laughing and happy, or crying and sad, I wanted them to come first—I did not want to rule a country that is disappointed by my daughters, that does not celebrate in their birthday, that will only be appeased by a son. When I am with my daughters all I want to do is step down …’

  ‘You can’t.’

  ‘I am not sure that I want to rule a country where I cannot change the rules. I’m not sure I want to give the people the son they want just to pass the burden on to him.’ He shook his head. ‘No, I will not do that to my son.’ He lifted her chin and looked into the eyes of the woman he loved and was completely sure. ‘I love you, and I cannot lose the woman I love again.’

  And it was right, Amy thought, that he acknowledged Hannah—even right that the love he felt should be compared to the love he had had for the Queen. And it was said so nicely that she could not help but cry.

  ‘And neither can I put Clemira and Nakia through it again,’ he went on. ‘You have made my daughters so happy. They call you their mother—which is how it will be.’ He watched her shake her head at the impossibility of it all. ‘As soon as you left I wanted to get on a plane, but I knew I had to think this through. I will rule Alzan as best as I can in my lifetime, and if the people grow hostile, if things get too hard for you there, then the country will see less of their leader—for I will divide my time between there and here.’

  ‘No …’ Amy said, but he was close, and she was weak whenever Emir was around.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, and held her tight. ‘Anyway, we will have time to work things out.’ He could not help but tease, watching the colour spread up her cheeks as he spoke. ‘No one needs to find out for a while yet that you cannot have children.’

  ‘I told Natasha.’ She thought his features would darken with surprise, but instead he smiled.

  ‘I know you did.’

  ‘I was just tired of everyone assuming …’

  ‘I know.’ And he was smiling no longer. ‘I confronted Rakhal. I have told him my position.’

  ‘What did he say?’

  ‘That Alzan will be his.’ Emir shrugged. ‘I pointed out that if he does outlive me and inherit, one day it will be his son’s too.’ His voice was forboding, but the loathing was not aimed at her. She knew that. ‘If Rakhal takes it upo
n himself to inform my people that you cannot have a child …’ his features were dark, and now he was not smiling ‘… he will have me to deal with.’

  ‘I can’t marry you, Emir,’ Amy said. ‘I can’t stand knowing that I’m going to disappoint your people.’ That he loved her so much brought her both comfort and fear. That he would leave his country’s future in darkness for her was almost more than she could take.

  ‘It is not your burden to carry,’ Emir said. ‘I was coming to this decision even before the twins were born. I was already considering this. For Hannah’s heart was so weak I could never have asked her to be pregnant again. This is not of your making. We have time before the people know—time to work out how best to tell them.’

  He was doing his best to reassure her, but even if his decision was right, she knew the pain behind it.

  ‘I can’t do it, Emir.’

  ‘You can with me by your side. I will shield you as I will shield the twins. You will be a wonderful queen,’ Emir said. ‘The people could not have better.’

  ‘ They could.’

  ‘ No.’

  He meant it.

  Every word of it.

  His heart was at peace with the decision he had made. He would do everything he could for his people, but his heart belonged to his girls and he was strong enough to end the impossible burden, to cease the madness. He would not place that burden on a child of his.

  And here it was—the illogical love that she wanted. Love was a strange thing: it made you both strong and weak. Strong enough to stand by your convictions … Weak enough maybe to give in.

  Except this was Emir, and even if she forgot at times he was King this was her life and it would be in the spotlight.

  As she wrestled with indecision the doorbell rang. She opened it to the man she had once thought she loved, and blinked at the phone he held out in his hand.

  ‘Thank you.’

  She saw him look over her shoulder to where Emir was standing, saw the raising of his eyebrows, and then without a word he turned and Amy closed the door. She was nervous to turn around and face the man she knew she loved and would love for ever. But she had to be strong, had to say no, and that slight pause had given her a moment to regroup.

  ‘I left my phone …’ She felt his black eyes on hers and couldn’t quite meet them. ‘We went out before …’

  ‘I saw you return,’ Emir said. ‘I was waiting in my car for you. Now, we were talking about—’

  ‘Nothing happened,’ Amy broke in. ‘He just wanted …’

  ‘I do not care.’ She frowned, because surely he should care. ‘We were discussing our marriage—’

  ‘Emir!’ she interrupted him. ‘My ex-fiancé just came to the door, you know we’ve been out together tonight, and you don’t care?’ She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘You don’t have questions?’

  ‘None,’ Emir said.

  She was less than flattered. A bit of jealousy wouldn’t go amiss—after all, she had just been out with her ex.

  ‘Am I supposed to take it as a compliment that you trust me so much? For all you know—’

  ‘You could take a thousand lovers, Amy.’ It was Emir who interrupted now. Emir who walked to where she stood. ‘But each one would leave you empty. Each one would compare poorly to me.’

  ‘You’re so sure?’

  ‘Completely,’ Emir said. ‘And you could sit through a hundred dinners and dates and your mind would wander even as the first course was served.’ He stood right in front of her, looked down at her, and spoke the absolute truth. ‘Your mind would wander straight back to me,’ he said.

  And, damn him, he was right. Because tonight all she had thought of was Emir, her efforts to concentrate and to listen had been half-hearted at best.

  ‘And when you were kissed,’ he said, and put his mouth right up to hers, ‘you would crave what another man could not deliver. Because my mouth knows best what to do.’

  She closed her eyes, opened her mouth to deny him. For there must be no future for them. She was going to say that she would find love again—except his tongue slid into her protesting mouth and he gave her a taste, and then he drew his head back, warned her again of the life she would lead if she did not say yes.

  ‘You would miss me for ever.’

  ‘No,’ she begged, though she knew he spoke the truth.

  ‘You would regret the decision for the rest of your days.’

  ‘No,’ Amy insisted, though she knew he was right.

  ‘We will be married,’ he concluded, through with talking. It had taken what felt like a lifetime to come to his decision, and now that he had he wanted it sealed.

  He pulled her tighter to him, so close she could hear his heart—not galloping, but steady, for he knew he was right.

  His hand lifted her chin and he looked down at her mouth. ‘There are so many kisses we have not had.’

  He lowered his mouth and tender were the lips that met hers in an unhurried kiss that reminded her of nothing—for this side of him she had not met.

  ‘This is the kiss I wanted to give you one morning when I saw you walking in the gardens.’ His mouth claimed her for another brief moment. He ran his hands down to her waist and his lips tasted of possession and promise for later. Then he he let her go. ‘That was the kiss I wanted to greet you with when you joined the party.’

  ‘What is this?’ She would not cry in front of him. She had promised herself. Yet she was failing. ‘Guess the kiss?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, and she started to cry.

  He held her again and his mouth drank her tears. He held her as he had wanted to, comforted her as he had wanted to after the breakfast, when Clemira had said Ummi and her heart had ached for a baby of her own. He held her as had wanted to that day.

  ‘You will never face it alone again,’ he promised, for he knew his kiss had taken her back to that day.

  Then he kissed her again, both hands on her face, and it tasted of regret. She was leaving him again. They were back at the palace and he was letting her go. His arms were around hers and his tongue met hers. He was ferocious as he rewrote that moment—he kissed her back to his world. Then he kissed her hard and with intent, and this was a kiss she recognised. His tongue was lavish in its suggestion and he pulled her into him, to let her feel his want. His hands moved over her body. This was a kiss that could lead only to one thing. Except he stopped.

  He looked down to her mouth, which was wet and wanting. He did not believe in negotiation—not when he knew that he was right. He would get his way. ‘You will return to Alzan and we will be married.’

  ‘You don’t just tell me!’ Amy said. ‘And that’s hardly a proposal. You’re supposed to get down on one knee.’

  ‘Not where I come from,’ Emir said.

  He took her hand and held it over his erection. She kept her palm flat, but that did not deter him. He moved her hand up and down, till her fingers ached from not holding him, till all she wanted was to slide down his zipper and free him.

  Free them.

  ‘You can say yes,’ Emir said, ‘or you can kiss it goodbye if you care to.’

  She could not help but smile as his usually excellent English wavered.

  ‘You mean, kiss it all goodbye.’

  ‘No,’ Emir said. ‘I mean exactly what I said.’ And he pulled her into him. His mouth found her ear. ‘Either way I bring you to your knees.’

  And he would, because she could not be without him.

  ‘Say yes, Amy.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Then you can’t have me.’

  He confused her, because he kissed her again.

  He kissed her mouth when still she questioned. He kissed her eyes closed when she tried to look at all that lay ahead. He kissed her until she was in the moment—kissed her all the way to her unmade bed. He did not bring her to her knees; instead he lay her down and removed every piece of her clothing.

  First he took off her shoes, and when she sat wit
h her arms by her sides he raised them.

  ‘Emir …’

  ‘Tell me to stop and I will.’

  Her hands stayed in the air as he took off her top.

  ‘Tell me we should not be together,’ Emir said as he unhooked her bra, ‘and I will go.’

  And she felt his eyes on her breasts and she wanted his mouth to be there, but still she stayed silent, so he unzipped her skirt and pushed her back on the bed. When he pulled at the hem she did not lift her hips to help him. He stared down at her and it did not deter him. Instead he undressed himself.

  He took off his jacket and placed it over a chair, took ages with each shoe, and as he pulled off his socks Amy found her toes curling.

  ‘You do not get me till you say yes.’ With a cruel lack of haste he removed his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. He gave her plenty of time to halt things but still she did not and he slid off his trousers and hipsters and stood over her, naked. ‘I can’t hear you, Amy.’

  ‘Because I haven’t said anything,’ came her response, but this time when he tugged at her skirt she did lift her hips. How could she not say yes to him? How could she not be his wife? She tried to look to the future, when she would surely regret this decision, but yes waited to spill from her mouth.

  He took off her panties so she was naked, and still she would not give in.

  Emir kneeled between her legs, kissed up one thigh and then back down, and then he turned his attention to the other one till she writhed beneath him, wanting him there at her centre. He didn’t play fair. He played mean. He lifted his head and focussed instead on himself, and she watched, fascinated, desperate. He stroked himself right there at her entrance and she watched, wanted. He would make her comply.

  ‘I can’t wait for ever,’ he warned.

  And he was right. There would never be a better lover. Always her mind would return to him. She heard his breath quicken. She wanted him more than she wanted her sanity and she hated this game he was playing.