Scribbling a hasty note saying where she was going, Hannah shoved it under the door of her security detail who were sleeping nearby, then tiptoed through the silence of the dawn palace. She felt a sense of freedom as she let herself out and began to walk towards the desert, a light sea breeze lifting her sticky hair from the back of her neck. The fireworks of first light were beginning to explode all around her, and the pink sky was shot with yellow and gold and vivid streaks of purple. It was so beautiful, she thought wistfully—and if she hadn’t woken up, she might have missed it.
She was careful to take a straight line from the gardens and not to venture far, because only a fool would risk getting lost in such an inhospitable place as this. But maybe her head was too busy for her to pay proper attention, because after a little while Hannah realised she couldn’t see the outline of the palace any more.
Her heart began to race.
Don’t panic, she told herself calmly. All she needed do was to retrace her footsteps in the sand. She glanced at her watch and frowned. Surely she hadn’t been out here that long? With a touch of urgency now quickening her walk, she began to follow the sandy imprints back the way she’d come. But maybe the sea breeze was stronger than she’d thought because after a while, the footsteps grew fainter before eventually disappearing. A coating of fine dust had covered her path, and it was as if she had never been there.
She blinked as she tried to remember the basic rules of survival, cursing herself when she realised that she hadn’t even brought water with her.
Because she hadn’t been planning to stay.
Her heart began to race. Weren’t you supposed to stay still in circumstances like these? Weren’t some people clever enough to be able to tell where they were by the movement of the sun? She looked up at the vast dome of the sky and wondered if she had imagined the dark circling of a vulture overhead. It was already getting warmer, but Hannah shivered because in that moment, she felt very small and very alone. She was just wondering what to do next when suddenly the silence was broken by the loud thunder of hooves and she looked up to see the growing shape of an approaching horseman. A huge black horse was pounding across the desert, clouds of dust billowing as it moved with the fluidity of black oil pouring across the sand towards her.
She recognised the rider instantly. How could she not? That proud posture and uncovered raven hair was too unique to belong to anyone else other than the Sheikh. But as the horse drew closer, with a slowing of hooves and a snorting of flared nostrils, the only thing Hannah could see was the naked fury on her husband’s face. With a thunderous expression, he leapt from the saddle, his hands reaching out to grasp her wrists as if he was afraid she might suddenly fall to the ground. Narrowed ebony eyes searched her face as he levered her closer so that she could smell the sweat and sandalwood of his heated body.
‘I hope by the rise of the desert moon that you are not hurt,’ he gritted out.
She nodded, wondering if he could feel the wild race of her pulse beneath his fingers. ‘I’m fine.’
‘No. You are not fine,’ he bit out. ‘I’ll tell you exactly what you are. You’re a fool, Hannah. What do you think you’re doing?’
‘I couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d get up to watch the sunrise,’ she said, aware of how lame it sounded.
‘And where the hell were your security detail?’ he demanded.
A little shamefacedly, Hannah shrugged. ‘Last night, I told them I was going to have a lie-in and didn’t want to be disturbed. I left them a note.’
He gave a long, low curse in his native tongue. ‘So why were you wandering around the desert on your own?’
‘I told you. I wanted to see the sunrise.’
‘Don’t you know how dangerous it can be out here?’
Shaking herself free from his grasp and whipping her mobile phone from one of the pockets hidden in her silken robe, she held it up so that the silvery rectangle flashed in the sunlight. ‘I came prepared,’ she said triumphantly. ‘I brought my phone with me.’
His lip curled in derision. ‘You think that could save you from the strike of a rattlesnake or the sting of a scorpion?’
But suddenly, Hannah recognised from his anger that this wasn’t about the natural dangers of the desert, but about something else. Her eyes narrowed as suspicion began to form and to grow inside her head until she could no longer contain it. And neither should she. Wasn’t it time that she addressed the terrible question she suspected would always hover in the darkness of her husband’s mind, if she chose to ignore it? ‘Why, Kulal,’ she questioned quietly, ‘what did you think I was doing?’
Kulal saw from her look of comprehension that she had a very good idea what he was thinking, but he shook his head, unwilling to articulate the fears which had rushed through his veins like poison.
‘Nothing,’ he grated.
‘What? It’s not nothing, is it?’ she said again.
And suddenly Kulal was aware that she was the one doing the accusing and her aquamarine eyes were flashing with unaccustomed fire as she continued.
‘Did you think I couldn’t cope with the insecure future you were offering me and had decided to take the easy way out?’ she demanded. ‘Did you think I was going to dramatically wander out into the desert and kill myself? Is that what you thought, Kulal?’
He flinched beneath the cruel clarity of her allegation, but he couldn’t deny that it was rooted in truth. Distractedly, he shook his head. ‘I didn’t know what to think.’
‘Oh, yes, you did,’ she breathed. ‘You thought the worst of me because that’s what experience has taught you to do. But I am not your mother, Kulal—and I never will be. I would never harm myself, nor the child I carry—not in a million years. What in heaven’s name do I have to do to convince you of that?’ She sucked in a breath which was ragged and shook her head. ‘I think you need to stop blaming your mother for what happened.’ Her voice grew gentle. ‘She wasn’t bad, you know—she was ill. Very ill. And because it was a different time, things like that just got pushed into a corner. People never used to talk about mental health issues because they were seen as something shameful, but that would never happen now. Your mum would have got the treatment she needed.’ She swallowed. ‘And maybe she would be here now, awaiting the birth of her first grandchild.’
‘Hannah—’
‘No. I haven’t finished, Kulal.’ She shook her head and seemed to take a long time before whispering her next words. ‘You have to forgive her. And then let her rest in peace. Because until you do that, you can never find your own peace.’
He looked into her eyes and for once, he didn’t turn away from the raw emotion he could read in their aquamarine depths. He could see the pain and the consternation which had all but wiped out the hope which had once flickered there. And suddenly Kulal realised that, in trying to protect himself, he had risked everything. He had offered Hannah a life without feeling and without love. He had arrogantly expected her to accept the meagre crumbs of affection he was prepared to offer. More than that, he had regarded her with a suspicion which had no basis in fact.
Wouldn’t any woman in her position decide that she wanted no more of him and his controlling nature?
Was it too late for him to make amends?
Suddenly, he reached out and lifted her up into the saddle, her bewilderment muffling her objections as he jumped up behind her, one hand lying protectively around her belly while the other gripped the reins as he eased the horse forward.
‘Kulal!’ She seemed to find her voice at last. ‘What...what do you...?’
But her words were lost on the desert wind as Kulal began to canter forward with the skill of a man who had ridden from the moment he could walk. Through the silken folds of her robe, he could feel the warmth of her body and sometimes the breeze tantalised him with the occasional drift of her scented hair. His throat grew dry. He thought of how he’d felt
during the last five days without her and suddenly Kulal did feel fear.
Fear that it might be too late.
Fear that he might have lost her because of his overarching arrogance and stubbornly black-and-white view of the world.
He felt her relax as the distinctive shape of a huge tent appeared and the horse’s pace slowed to a halt. Jumping down, he lifted her carefully onto the sand, but her expression was belligerent and her eyes unforgiving as she looked at him.
‘Where are we?’ she questioned stonily.
‘In a Bedouin tent. Not far from the palace.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘Why?’
‘Why don’t you come inside so we can discuss this away from the heat of the rising sun?’
‘Said the spider to the fly!’
‘And where I can offer you some cool refreshment?’
Her eyes lit up at this, but her nod was grudging. ‘Very well.’
She pushed aside the tent-flaps and went inside, but Kulal had to dip his head to follow her. He took his time pouring fire-berry cordial from the stone flask which had kept it cool, telling himself he wanted her to enjoy her first view of this traditional desert homestead, with its sumptuous hangings, fretwork lanterns and silken rugs. But he was also hoping that allowing a little time to elapse might cool her temper. Already he was justifying his behaviour inside his head—and surely if he started being more accommodating towards her from now on, that would be enough to make her contented?
He was quietly hopeful as he handed her the drink, but could instantly see that his assessment had been poor, because after she’d gulped down most of the liquid and thumped the silver goblet down on a low table, she straightened up to glare at him, her eyes flashing in a way he’d never seen before.
‘How did you know where I’d be?’ she demanded.
Kulal winced. So. There was to be no gratitude for his masterful rescue of the lost Queen! She’d gone straight for the jugular. ‘I’ve been camped out here all week,’ he admitted, and saw from the unrelenting look on her face that it was pointless to do anything other than admit the whole truth. ‘I have servants staying in nearby tents who were assigned to keep a watch on you at the beach palace, both day and night. They reported to me on your movements at all times.’
She wrinkled her forehead. ‘Could that explain why I thought I saw a shadow creeping past my window a few hours ago?’
‘Yes.’
‘But I have my own protection officers with me, Kulal.’
‘I know you do.’ He gave a heavy sigh. ‘But these are nomadic men of the desert, who know this territory better than any other. They can see things which the ordinary protection team is capable of missing—even a highly trained security detail.’
Her hands flew to her cheeks and he could see all the colour leeching away from her skin. ‘So you sent people to spy on me? Because you didn’t trust me?’
‘I prefer to think of it as protecting you. And in view of what happened, wasn’t I right to do so?’
‘Protecting your baby, you mean.’
‘And you,’ he said simply. ‘Protecting you is paramount to me, Hannah, because I love you.’
She shook her head and quickly turned away, not answering him immediately, and when she did, her words sounded strained. ‘Don’t try to manipulate me with words you don’t mean.’
‘But I do mean them,’ said Kulal as, for the first time in his life, he began to express emotions he’d never even dared to feel before. He had always associated emotion with pain and loss and he didn’t ever want to have to live through that again. But he could see now that he had no choice. That if he wanted Hannah to stay, he was going to have to get her to believe that what he felt for her was real. Something so big and new that at first he hadn’t even recognised it—and when at last he had, it had scared the hell out of him. ‘I’ve never been so sure about anything. Which is that I love you, Hannah,’ he repeated shakily. ‘I love you so much.’
‘Don’t you dare lie to me!’
Nobody had ever said that to Kulal before and with good reason—a fondness for sometimes brutal candour was the more usual accusation thrown at him, particularly by women. But now wasn’t the time for a proud defence of his reputation; now he needed the kind of persuasive rhetoric which normally came so easily to him. And never had it seemed quite so far away. ‘I’ve never met a woman like you before.’
‘Obviously that’s not true either!’ she said contemptuously. ‘You’ve spent your life surrounded by servants—and that’s all I am.’
He told himself she was lashing out because she was scared, too—because the alternative was too daunting to acknowledge. He swallowed. What if she really did feel contempt for him—the kind of contempt which had wiped away all the love she’d once declared?
‘I’m not talking about your job. I’m talking about your heart—which is a very big heart. You are the most kind and caring woman I’ve ever met, Hannah—as well as the most thoughtful.’
‘Sensible, you mean?’ she questioned witheringly, still with her back to him.
He shook his head. ‘Your qualities go way beyond that. You are loyal—something you demonstrated when you were determined that I should be the first to hear about impending fatherhood when you could have easily sold the story to the press.’ He pulled in a deep breath. ‘And you have other characteristics, too—and I’m not talking about your obvious attraction or the way I can’t seem to keep my hands off you.’
‘Kulal...’ she said warningly.
‘I’ve never talked to anyone the way I talk to you,’ he continued. ‘About mountains and spiders and—’
‘Don’t you dare try to smooth-talk me with sentimentality, Kulal Al Diya,’ she said, her voice cracking a little.
‘You did the best thing for our baby by agreeing to marry me and then you tried to be the best wife you possibly could,’ he forged on. ‘And I threw it all back in your face.’
‘Well, yes,’ she whispered, turning back to face him, and he was startled by the bright glitter of unshed tears in her eyes. ‘You did.’
‘Everything you accused me of was correct, but the one accusation which will not stand is the strength of my feelings for you—and I guess that time is the only thing which will prove that. That is, if you give me the gift of time.’ His gaze was very steady as he looked at her. ‘Because I would like the chance to prove I can be the kind of husband you deserve. The kind of father I pray I can be. And the kind of lover who never stops making you sigh with pleasure. The chance to show you how very much I love you. Will you give me that chance, Hannah?’
For a moment, Hannah couldn’t answer because the emotion which was catching in her throat didn’t allow her to. She recognised that this was a moment of real power and she tried to think about all the conditions she could demand of him.
But if she turned it around and thought of this as equality rather than power, it meant that she must do this without condition. To take him at his word. She had to trust him. It was a risk, but one she had to take. Because without trust, you could have nothing. No love and no real future.
Her voice was wobbling and the tears she seemed to have been holding back for so long began to stream down her cheeks like rivers. But that didn’t matter. Nothing mattered other than the sure-fire certainty which pumped through her veins as she went into his open arms. ‘Yes,’ she whispered simply, her voice a little faint as she pressed her lips against his own wet cheek. ‘I will give you that chance because I love you, Kulal—and deep down I know I always will.’
EPILOGUE
‘I CAN’T BELIEVE you didn’t tell me.’
Kulal turned back from the balustrade, where he had been standing watching the fiery sun sink slowly into the Murjaan Sea—a stunning spectacle indeed, but one which did not come close to competing with his wife’s natural beauty. He gazed at her in a moment of grate
ful contemplation. The rose-gold light gilded her hair and cast shadows which emphasised the soft delicacy of her features.
‘Tell you what?’ he said as he walked over to where Hannah sat on the swinging hammock she had installed on the veranda of their beachside palace. But Kulal already knew the answer to his own question and so did Hannah. Just as he knew she must have a special reason for asking it again, and now.
‘That girls were not allowed by law to inherit the Zahristan crown. That in order to accede to the throne, the child must be a boy.’
He smiled as he sat down beside her, taking her hand in his and beginning to massage it. ‘And would it have made a difference in your decision to marry me?’ he mused. ‘If you had known, would you have insisted on waiting until the birth to discover if we were having a boy or a girl?’
Deep in love, Hannah smiled back. ‘Of course it wouldn’t,’ she said. ‘But I thought that having an heir was the main reason you wanted me to be your bride.’
‘So did I,’ he admitted, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing each finger almost reflectively. ‘But there was obviously something immensely powerful burning between us, which had been there from the start. I guess I was too much of an emotional coward to admit it at the time—even to myself.’
‘Not any more, though?’ she questioned, her eyes glinting with mischief.
He met her moonlit gaze and shook his head. ‘No, Hannah. Not any more.’
‘And you’re sure you don’t want to have any more children, my darling? To try for a boy? Because I am quite willing to do that.’
So that was the reason she had brought it up. Kulal shook his head. ‘No, my love. Four children is quite enough.’
‘But—’
‘But, yes,’ he insisted softly, drawing her closer. ‘I’m blissfully happy with my four daughters. Fate has not given us a son and I accept that. I am not risking your life in pursuit of a crown.’
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