by Andie Brock
‘Well, that’s too bad, because you are going to hear it anyway.’
‘Fine. But I warn you, it won’t make the slightest bit of difference. I already know exactly how you feel about me, and now the baby, too, so don’t even bother to try to—’
‘I love you, Nadia.’
The stunned silence was filled with a rumble of thunder from above, as if his words had awoken the very gods in the skies.
‘No.’ Releasing her body from the imprisonment of his chest, Nadia leaped to her feet, taking several steps away. Zayed stood up to face her, tall, dark, rigid with tension.
Rain was pouring down now, a vertical torrent of water, bouncing off the mosaic tiles of the courtyard, flooding the peaceful rill. From beneath their archway Nadia and Zayed stared at one another.
‘No.’ Nadia repeated the word, shaking her head. She said something else, her lips moving but the noise of the rain drowning out her voice. Zayed moved closer, fighting the dread in his heart. He knew this was going to be bad, hideously bad, but he had committed himself now. Laid himself bare. And despite the pain, the certainty that his declaration would bring him nothing but misery, it was a relief to have gotten it off his chest. To have spoken the words out loud.
‘You are wrong.’ She was shouting now, her voice high and shrill over the pounding, deafening rain, desperate to make him hear, to understand. ‘You don’t love me.’
Closing the gap between them, Zayed took her face in his hands, holding it still. ‘I love you, Nadia.’ He mouthed the words clearly, so that there could be no mistake. Then, reaching to tuck her hair behind one ear, he moved his lips against the soft pink folds and said it again. ‘I love you.’ This time it whispered into her eardrum, down into her very soul.
Nadia stood perfectly still, holding on to this one little perfect moment in time. Because it couldn’t last; it wasn’t possible. The sledgehammer of reality had to kick in any moment now. With her face still held in his hands Zayed was looking deep into her eyes, searching them for clues, waiting for her to respond.
‘Nadia?’ He spoke her name over the drumbeat of rain, permeating the fog of her mind, anguish now shadowing his face, darkening the eyes that still held hers.
She knew she needed to say something, anything, to take away that pain. But somehow the words wouldn’t come. She couldn’t push them past her throat. She didn’t even know what they were. She felt stunned, numb, weak.
‘That’s okay.’ Dropping his hands, he touched a finger to her twitching lips, shooting her one last, heart-melting look. ‘Your silence has said it all.’
Turning away, he stepped out from under the archway and into the torrent of rain, striding off into the curtain of water. He was soaked within a second, his shirt plastered against his back, his hair flattened against his skull.
‘Zayed, wait!’ Her strangled cry stopped him and he turned back to look at her, water streaming into his eyes, from his chin, sluicing the bunched muscles of his arms and chest. ‘Wait for me.’
‘No.’ He started to run towards her, to stop her. ‘Stay there, you mustn’t come out in this...’
But it was too late, she had already leaped out into the deluge. The shock of the rain made her gasp, arrowing painfully down on her head and shoulders, almost knocking her over with its force.
Zayed was in front of her now, his arms around her, strong and powerful, holding her steady.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ He was futilely trying to shelter her with his body, one arm slung over her shoulder, his head bent against the rain as he half dragged her towards the palace.
‘Wait.’ Pushing herself back against him, Nadia managed to halt his progress. ‘I want you to say it again.’
‘What?’
‘What you said before. Say it again. Please.’
They stared at each other, their hair and faces running with rivulets of water, the soaked clothes on their bodies sticking to their skin, their feet standing in inches of floodwater.
Zayed hesitated, struggling with his pride. Then, taking a step back, he stretched out his arms, tipped his face up to the sky and, filling his lungs with air, bellowed up into the storm, ‘I love you, Nadia Al Afzal.’
Nadia moved towards him, slipping her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his sodden chest. She felt his muscles shift beneath her embrace, his arms fall by his sides.
‘That’s good.’ Looking up, she searched for his eyes through the bouncing rain. ‘Because I love you, too.’
Suddenly his lips came down on hers with a bruising, searing kiss that sealed them together. With his mouth still on hers Zayed hooked one arm under Nadia’s legs and, lifting her off her feet, dashed towards the shelter of the palace with her body bumping against his. Pausing only to crash in through the door, they hurried to find each other’s lips again. It was a kiss that neither of them could bear to let go.
* * *
‘Are you awake?’
‘No.’
Zayed pulled Nadia’s naked body even closer to him, stretching one leg over her thigh, nudging his groin against hers. ‘And neither should you be.’ Reaching an arm out, he lifted the rumpled covers back over them, and Nadia snuggled into him.
Several hours had passed since they had run in from the rain. Their wet clothes were still puddled on the bathroom floor where they had been tugged and dragged off each other’s bodies before they had stepped together under the pummelling heat of the shower.
They had been the best several hours of Nadia’s life. Without question. Without compare. And close cross-examination of the man by her side had revealed that he felt the same. Even if he was now begging to be allowed to sleep.
She let her fingers trail down over his buttocks, feeling them clenching under her touch.
‘Nadia!’
So this was what true happiness felt like. She was consumed by it, filled with it so that she was sure she must be twice her normal size. It was the certainty of it that thrilled her, the way she knew it was forever. Not just the glorious happiness of the past few hours of mind-blowing sexual intimacy, but the knowledge that this was it, the future. Nadia and Zayed. And the baby. Happiness encapsulated.
‘I still can’t believe that you hid it so well.’ She slipped her arms back around Zayed’s waist, whispering against his chest, ‘I really thought you hated me.’
‘Never.’ He breathed the word softly into her hair. ‘Although hating would have been easy. It was loving you that I found so hard. Losing my heart to the most infuriating, exasperating woman I have ever met.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome. But you didn’t exactly make it easy for me to accept the truth. I always thought you hated me, too.’ Zayed hugged her body tightly. ‘I suppose we were both as bad as each other. Now, how about we get some sleep?’
‘In a minute. So when did you finally realise how you felt?’
‘Hmm...’ Zayed sleepily considered her question. ‘It wasn’t until you told me about the baby that I made myself face up to the stark reality. I knew then that I had to confess my true feelings to you, no matter how hideous the consequences might be for my pride. Or for my heart.’
‘Oh, Zayed.’ Nadia stirred in his arms, turning so she could kiss his chest where his heart pulsed beneath. ‘I really had no idea.’
‘I know. But the truth has found its way out now, and that’s all that matters.’
‘And the baby?’ Raising her head, Nadia sought the reassurance of his eyes. ‘You’re sure...’
‘I couldn’t be more sure. Or more proud. We are going to make great parents, I just know it.’
‘Me, too. And your father will be pleased to hear the news, especially if we manage to produce the future sheikh of Gazbiyaa.’
‘He will. Your family, too, I should think. An heir will only forge closer bonds between our two kingdoms now that the ridiculous feud is over. Not that I care whether this is the future sheikh or not.’ Zayed pushed his hand down between their sealed bodi
es and splayed it across Nadia’s flat stomach. ‘Boy or girl, this is the start of our family, yours and mine. From now on this is about us.’
‘Agreed,’ Nadia murmured happily. ‘But would you mind if we went to Harith to give my parents the news in person? I’d love to be with my mother when we tell her.’
‘Of course. As soon as you like.’
‘And maybe my mother could come back with us, just for a visit? I know she would never leave my father for long, but it would be so lovely to be able to give her a break, to show her Gazbiyaa, the life we have here.’
‘You can bring the entire palace back with you if you like,’ Zayed offered. ‘Even that brother of yours.’
‘Imran?’ Nadia laughed softly. ‘Surely not?’
‘Yep. Even Imran. That’s how much I love you, Nadia.’
‘Then tell me one more time.’
‘I love you, Nadia. I will always love you. Now and forever, with no end.’
All was quiet.
‘Nadia?’ Zayed gave her a gentle nudge. ‘I think you will find it’s your turn.’
But Nadia’s breathing had turned to a soft snore and, with her heart beating against his chest and her arms locked around his waist, Zayed knew there would be no reply forthcoming. Shifting slightly, he felt her sigh with contentment.
And that was all the confirmation he needed.
* * * * *
Look out for other titles in the SOCIETY WEDDINGS quartet available now!
READ ON FOR A SOCIETY WEDDINGS EXCLUSIVE!
Late spring, 2016
‘THANK YOU ALL so much for coming.’
Stepping out of the chapel into the bright Greek sunlight, Christian slung his arms over the shoulders of his friends Stefan and Zayed, who were walking on either side of him. ‘Alessandra and I are so pleased to have you all here today.’
‘Well, we weren’t going to miss it, were we?’ Stefan slanted him a smile. ‘The christening of the first progeny of the Columbia Four.’
‘I know. Though I would have understood if you and Nadia hadn’t made it, Zayed.’ Christian looked across at his friend. ‘What with Nadia about to produce your own little moro at any moment, I mean.’
‘Not long now,’ Zayed agreed. ‘But believe me, Nadia was adamant that she was coming today. She’d have brought her obstetrician over on the plane with us if necessary.’
‘Well, I really appreciate it.’
‘And as the only godfather, I obviously had to be here.’ Rocco leaned into the conversation. ‘I hope you two have noticed my elevated status.’
‘Yeah, we’ve noticed.’ Stefan and Zayed exchanged a smirk. ‘It goes with his elevated ego, wouldn’t you say, Zayed?’
‘Boys, boys.’ Christian patted their shoulders. ‘You know I would have had all three of you as godfathers to my firstborn, but Alessandra wanted to keep it simple. And as Rocco is her brother...’
‘And he’s pretty simple...’
‘The perfect candidate.’
‘Right, i miei amici—’ Rocco looked from Stefan to Zayed, Christian grinning in between ‘—if either of you want to be considered as a godparent to my firstborn, you had better start to be more respectful.’
‘I think we are going to be spoiled for choice for that role. Must be your turn next to organise a christening, isn’t it, Stefan?’ Zayed asked.
‘Yes, Clio’s on it. Unless seeing your daughter being lowered into that font has put her off the idea of getting our baby baptised at all, Christian. She was clutching Tony to her chest as if he might be wrenched away from her and dunked there and then.’
‘I did no such thing.’ Clio quickened her step to catch up with the men. ‘I know that’s the tradition here.’
‘But you are glad that in Tony’s case it will be a little less hard core?’
‘No!’ Clio laughed, looking down at the sleeping bundle in her arms, shading his head with her hand. ‘Though I must admit a mother’s urge to protect her child is a pretty powerful one.’
‘And a father’s, too.’ Christian turned to look at Alessandra, who was surrounded by a group of women cooing over the star of the show, his daughter, Letizia, held in his wife’s arms. ‘It’s an amazing feeling, to see your child coming into the world, this whole new life that you have created, so vulnerable but so full of potential. It’s like nothing else. What...?’
‘Nothing!’ Olivia and Nadia had fallen into step with the group, not bothering to hide their amusement. ‘We were just thinking how nice it is to see you guys bonding over the baby stuff, weren’t we, Nad? Sharing your experiences with our husbands. It’s lovely.’
‘Then stop smirking, you minxes. I’ll have you know The Columbia Four have always been in touch with their feminine sides.’
‘Yeah, right, of course you have.’ Clio turned to transfer her baby son to her husband before linking arms with Nadia and Olivia. ‘It just took a little nudge from us before you all found it.’
‘Well, maybe you’ve got a point there.’ Zayed directed a loving glance at his wife and Nadia smiled back, unconsciously smoothing a hand over her sizable baby bump.
The tender exchange reminded the women of the journey they had been on to reach the happiness of today, Alessandra and Christian, too. Because it hadn’t been easy for any of them, all of the couples battling heartache and anguish along the way. Perhaps it was inevitable, given the clash of four independent, spirited women coming up against the four ultimate alpha males! But one thing was for sure: if the journey had been torturous, the end result was so worth it. Because these couples had found that rarest of things—true love. And it shone from the eyes of each and every one of them.
‘So come on, then.’ Zayed turned back to his friends. ‘You two are the experienced dads now. Any tips for me and Rocco?’
‘Si. Make the most of an unbroken night’s sleep while you can.’ Stefan rocked the stirring baby in his arms. ‘Wouldn’t you agree, Christian?’
‘Sigoura—definitely.’ Christian nodded in agreement. ‘My daughter has certainly reacquainted me with the pleasure of watching dawn break.’
‘Sleepless Knights of Columbia?’ Nadia ventured, and the whole group burst out laughing.
‘What am I missing?’ Alessandra and her daughter joined them, baby Letizia looking completely gorgeous in her designer christening gown. ‘You are not allowed to have so much fun until I can join in.’
‘Well, you’re here now, that’s the important thing.’ Olivia gave her sister-in-law a kiss on the cheek. ‘I say the party starts now.’
They had reached the end of the chapel pathway where a fleet of limousines was parked, the doors being opened by their chauffeurs in readiness to transport the guests back to Christian and Alessandra’s beautiful home for the celebration lunch.
‘Just one second.’ Transferring Letizia into the nearest arms, which happened to be a startled Zayed’s, Alessandra delved into her bag for her camera. ‘Let’s have a photo first. If you could all just group together, that’s it. Zayed, can you turn so I can see Letizia’s face? Yes, and stop looking as if you are holding an unexploded bomb. Now, Stefan, if you—’
‘Alessandra!’ Her husband lowered his voice for dramatic effect.
‘Sorry, scusa. Okay.’ With a final adjustment to the camera lens, she turned and handed it to an unsuspecting guest behind them. ‘Would you mind? If you just look through here and press this. Grazie mille.’
Darting back to join the posed group, Alessandra squeezed up next to them. ‘Ready, everybody? Smile.’
And smile they did as the camera shutter clicked. Framing their complete happiness forever.
STEFAN AND CLIO’S WEDDING DAY
THROUGH THE EYES OF
SHEIKH ZAYED AL AFZAL
‘IF YOU WANT to leave all this behind, leave Stefan behind, then all you have to do is say so, Clio.’
They were standing in the doorway of The Terrace Room of the Chatsfield Hotel, where a room full of New York’s most influential and elite gu
ests were awaiting their grand entrance. But as far as Zayed was concerned, they could wait. First he needed to make sure Clio knew she didn’t have to go through with this.
Reaching for her bare arm, he tucked it under his elbow in the traditional manner of a man about to give away a bride. But that was where the tradition ended. Because he wasn’t going to take another step forward until he had said his piece.
Nothing about this wedding felt right. Not the speed with which it had been arranged, the dismissive way Stefan had refused to discuss it and now, most of all, the way Clio stood rigidly beside him, gripping that bouquet of lilies so tightly in her hands that he half expected them to droop their heads in protest.
The marriage of Stefan and Clio. Stefan, one of Zayed’s closest friends, who along with Christian and Rocco made up the inseparable band of brotherhood known as The Columbia Four, and Clio, lovely, funny, clever Clio, who they had all known since university. It should have been cause for massive celebration. A decade ago it would have been. It had been no secret back then that Stefan had had a thing for Clio, providing a source of great entertainment for Zayed and his equally cruel comrades as Clio had continually rejected Stefan’s advances and they had seized every opportunity to point that out to their big-headed but baffled friend.
Despite that, ten years ago, the three of them would have been thrilled to see Stefan and Clio come together as a couple. Back then they were well matched. Perfectly matched, even.
But now... Now everything felt different. Wrong. The intervening years had seen Clio distance herself from her university friends. For whatever reason, she’d pulled away, ignoring all invitations to meet up. Even refusing to attend Rocco and Olivia’s wedding.
And the years had changed Stefan, too. He was harder, more ruthless, a more brutal man than he had ever been before. With a jolt of alarm Zayed realised that he wouldn’t want to see any woman marry the Stefan of today. Least of all Clio. The dear friend he was just about to give away to him.
Through a clenched jaw he heard himself whispering with a suppressed urgency that even took him by surprise. He had to make Clio see that she had choices, explain to her that this wedding didn’t have to happen, that she could be out of here, whisked away to anywhere in the world she wanted to go—she only had to say the word.
