‘There is no agreement.’ Zafir’s strong voice filled the silent room.
‘Zafir…’ Her voice was strangled, her hand reaching for his to stop him, because she knew what she had done, but he took her fingers beneath the table and squeezed them firmly, and somehow in that moment a tentative trust emerged, and Layla knew that all she had to do was hold onto him.
‘I have it from an impeccable source that the agreement has been signed,’ the journalist challenged, then hastily added, ‘Your Highness.’
‘I suggest…’ Zafir’s voice held its own challenge ‘…you ask your source to produce the document—which he cannot, for it does not exist.’
Beneath the table his hand let go of hers, but she could still feel its warmth. It was more than a touch, it was support quietly offered when she felt that she couldn’t go on, when it was all too much—it was how it could be.
On this, the saddest day, she glimpsed the possibility of wild dreams coming true.
‘What will your role be?’ Another journalist moved things along, asked the question that was on everyone’s lips. ‘Will you move between Calista and Haydar? Do you have any words for the Haydar people?’
‘Today there is shock.’ Zafir’s voice was strong. ‘In Qusay and Haydar, all the people are in shock—but tomorrow we will greet these changes. Qusay has a new King—King Kareef—and Haydar…’
He did the bravest thing, the most unexpected thing: Zafir gave a soft smile.
‘As I said to my wife—she kissed a king and he turned into a prince…But a prince who is proud to serve you in whatever way is best. I will be proud to serve beside my wife as King.’
And all that was left to do was for Zafir to leave Qusay—to walk around the palace, to stare into the blue-eyed portraits of his predecessors and to finally understand why he had never felt as if he belonged.
‘You will return…’ Stefania assured him. ‘Qusay will always welcome you…’
‘I know that.’
‘And you will come to Calista soon?’ Zakari had tears in his eyes for the brother he had sought for so long. Now he had found him, he was leaving already.
‘Of course,’ Zafir said. ‘I have brothers to meet, a life to catch up on—but there are other things to attend to now…’ He looked over to Layla, who stood calm and poised, yet he knew that she trembled inside. ‘We do not know the reaction in Haydar. It is unfair for Layla to return there alone.’
He hugged his brother and his sister-in-law, and then he kissed little Zafir, who had carried his memory. And, hard as it was to say goodbye, he knew it wouldn’t be for long. No, the hardest part of leaving that night was saying goodbye to his trusted vizier—a man he had once considered smug, but who had stood by his side and had offered to continue to do so.
‘You are needed here, Akmal,’ Zafir said, ‘to show King Kareef how things are done…’ He took out the beautiful emerald necklace and handed it back to Akmal. ‘For when the time is right…’
There was nothing else Qusay needed from him now, so he boarded the royal Haydar jet, took a seat by her side and stared out of the windows on take-off, watching the lights of Qusay grow dim and offering a prayer that the people would be safe under Kareef’s leadership. He was grateful for Layla’s quiet, yet he wished for the soft warmth of her hand.
Then Baja made her way over. ‘Your Highness, the captain has asked me to apologise…I am so sorry…’ Zafir frowned as the woman addressed her Queen, because Baja didn’t look remotely sorry. ‘There is a slight technical difficulty—we cannot broadcast the Haydar news in-flight.’
‘How am I to gauge my people’s reaction?’ Layla snapped, then dismissed Baja, too weary to argue. But, even as she dismissed her, she wanted to call her back—because without Baja Layla was left alone with Zafir for the first time since the announcement, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear the answers to her questions. She didn’t want to find out that it had been just a well-executed PR exercise—a slick speech to win her affection so that he might warm her bed tonight…
‘I was confused…’ He spoke first, and to hear such a commanding, assured man admit weakness had Layla turning her face to look at him. ‘More confused than any man should ever be. I had nothing, Layla.’
‘You have brothers, a kingdom to play in, polo…’
‘Not my age,’ Zafir countered, ‘nor my name, not my staff, nor my title—and I wasn’t even sure that I had a wife…’
‘We stood before a judge.’
‘That was not me.’
‘It was you in bed that night…’ Layla said. ‘You, whatever your name or title is, who took so much more than my virginity. You showed me how it could be, and then, when the first sign of trouble came, you took it back.’
‘I wanted to give you a choice,’ Zafir said, and Layla realised it was the first time she had ever had a choice—oh, she had made plenty of decisions in her time, but a personal choice? There had been none—no question as to her life’s journey. She had been groomed to be Queen, but even that would have been taken from her if a brother had come along. She had been expected to marry a man she had never met, to produce heirs, to rule Haydar—but never given a choice. And yes, in his own way, Zafir had offered her one.
‘I am not what it said on the box…’
He made her laugh, but it strangled in her throat and she started to cry.
‘I do not need to check your signature. I do not need to read your speeches. I know you are now on my side. But I have lied to you, Zafir.’ She gave a nervous swallow.
‘I know…’ he said. ‘I heard you speaking with Baja of how sometimes it is too heavy a burden for you to carry…’
‘Not that…’ She shook her head ‘I want not just your love, not just your body, but your wisdom too…’ And he wrapped her in his arms and told her he knew. ‘I am so weary of being strong, but it is not just that I have lied about…’
‘Tell me.’ He smiled, and she was no longer scared…Well, just a little bit.
‘When we returned from the desert—’ Layla gulped ‘—when you went to Calista, I lied to you.’
‘I do not understand.’
“When you asked if I was with child…’
He was white now, but there was a hint of a smile waiting in the wings, and it urged her to go on. ‘I lied when I said there was no baby…’
He kissed her, and it was wondrous, except he didn’t quite understand.
‘Why would you lie? You must have known that soon I would find out—and all that about fertility clinics…’
‘I would never give away my title, but if I lost it…’ She found it hard to explain. ‘Or if that earthquake had been huge and I was returning tonight to face disaster—Zafir, I wanted you to be sure of what you were giving, and I wanted you to see all that you were giving up. It is all or nothing, and I wanted you to understand that. I can deal with anything if at night I can rest with you.’
‘So now we have it all.’
The fear, the loneliness, that place he had inhabited for so many years, just flew from his chest and left his heart beating freely as her sweet words bathed his senses.
She was having his baby.
And as they absorbed the news he wasn’t a king, nor a queen’s consort, and Layla wasn’t a queen. They were a couple instead—mortals who had made a miracle. The news was no longer about lineage and heirs—a new royal family was emerging that would rule with a new understanding of what really mattered in this world.
‘I am nervous…’ Layla admitted, gazing at the television screen. Kareef’s face, as new ruler of Qusay, flashed before her eyes, then images of his brothers, Rafiq and Tahir, and images of the people in the street and their shocked reaction as they tried to take in all the changes. Her mind—as it had to even at the most tender of times—turned to her own people, and how they would accept the news. ‘So much has changed.’
‘So much has been put right,’ Zafir countered, and the news report was turned off as the cabin lights w
ere dimmed and they prepared for landing.
Layla could feel her heart hammering in her chest as she tried to gauge her people’s reaction—she had left a robed virgin queen, left to merge Haydar with Qusay, promising to return with a king…
But as his hand wrapped around hers Layla knew, as she hoped her people would soon find out, that he was far better than the description on the box.
The people had their long-awaited King.
But perhaps it would take time for them to accept him.
‘What are those lights…?’ Zafir stared out of the window at the new land that awaited him.
‘Probably the palace…’ Layla said, not following his gaze, her eyes fixed ahead, for she truly hated landing.
‘No along the streets…’ Zafir started, but he didn’t continue, feeling her tension and holding her hand as the wheels hit the tarmac and the plane slowly halted in a perfect landing.
The cabin lights came up, and Baja approached with a make-up assistant.
‘Not now…’ Layla shook her head. ‘It’s two a.m.…’
‘There will be photographers…’
‘Then shield me!’ Layla said. ‘I do not want photographs till I know my people’s reaction—and,’ she snapped as she stood, ‘thanks to a technical difficulty I have been unable to watch the news. See that it is not repeated.’
But Baja wasn’t listening, and instructed the make-up artist to continue, which she did, fussing with Layla’s hair and dress even as she stood. Layla was too nervous to protest, too distracted to notice Baja’s secret smile.
Zafir did, though.
The slight frown he directed to Baja showed a question, not annoyance, but she did not respond, just modestly lowered her eyes as still that smile danced on her lips.
And then the door opened, and Layla, quite simply, forgot to breathe.
The runway was within the royal grounds, yet shouts from the surrounding streets bridged the distance. The lights Zafir had seen were candles being held—surely every family in Haydar had come out to greet their royals?
‘Cheer King Zafir of Haydar!’
‘Cheer our loyal Queen Layla!’
‘I wanted it to be a surprise…’ Baja spoke out of turn. ‘Your people love you, Layla, they only wanted to see you happy.’ Wise dark eyes turned to Zafir. ‘They love you too, Your Highness…’
It was dark, and it was late, but there was no question of going to bed.
Haydar wanted to celebrate—and the new royals obliged.
An open-top car was summoned, and they stood waving as they were driven through the cheering streets—never had Haydar been more vibrant.
This was the new beginning they had craved.
‘I am home…’ Zafir’s words were lost in the deafening crowd, and Layla had to lean towards him to try and capture what he was saying, but it was too noisy for him to explain it.
For years, for endless long, lonely years, there had been a search for what he didn’t know—for peace, happiness, for himself…And now here it was: freedom.
The freedom love brought; the freedom to be himself.
It was a freedom that couldn’t be found in a palace he hadn’t rightly inherited, and too much had changed for him to find true freedom in a land he had been torn from two decades ago.
‘I am home,’ he said again, and this time Layla heard him, and it didn’t need clarification or explanation because she felt it too. Her people, her life, her responsibility—no longer a burden. Love was the ruler of this land now.
‘I am home too,’ Layla said. ‘My home is with you.’
ISBN: 978-1-4268-5195-7
WEDLOCKED: BANISHED SHEIKH, UNTOUCHED QUEEN
First North American Publication 2010.
Copyright © 2010 by Harlequin Books S.A.
Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Carol Marinelli for her contribution to the Dark-Hearted Desert Men series
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.
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Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
All about the author…
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Copyright
Wedlocked: Banished Sheikh, Untouched Queen Page 14
