by Cara Albany
He nodded. "Of course. We'll have time for that after the reception."
"What do you mean?" She narrowed her eyes.
He turned and faced her. "The wedding night," he murmured.
She felt her cheeks flush pink. "We've already spoken about that. I thought we had an agreement."
He shrugged. "I changed my mind." Once again, he gazed down the length of her body. "I couldn't possibly let this chance go begging."
She shifted away from him and glanced nervously toward the driver. Such vulgarity was unusual for Zariq, she told herself. Normally, he was much more careful in how he spoke to her. She shook her head. "No," she said bluntly.
His gaze darkened. "No?"
She shook her head again, this time even more firmly. "That's not what this agreement is about."
His jaw tightened and he glared at her. "Starting to believe your own story, are you? Still thinking you really are too good for me?"
She squinted at him. "That's not it at all, Zariq. And you know it."
He straightened in the seat and faced forward. He was clearly annoyed at her latest refusal. His brows were deeply furrowed as he stared fixedly ahead. Zariq had appetites, but she wasn't going to be the latest delicacy he enjoyed. Not even on their wedding night.
Dakota propped her elbow on the ledge next to her and gazed out at the desert. They'd just left the outskirts of the city and they were now out in the desert. She saw the walled palace up ahead. His palace. Her new home. She could still hardly believe all of this was happening. But it was all too real. Events since she'd met Zariq had moved so quickly that she hadn't had time to take in the truth about what she'd discovered on that night in New York.
She could still recall his words and how she had reacted to them. It had seemed unbelievable. Incredible. But, after he'd left her and she had checked, it had proven to be right. And it explained why the royal sheikh from Qazhar had flown half-way round the world and proposed to her. She was the only suitable wife for him for one simple reason.
Dakota was descended, many generations ago, hundreds of years ago in fact, from the chieftain who had established the kingdom of Qazhar. That simple fact made her the most eligible wife for the latest royal sheikh wedding.
CHAPTER TWO
The reception was almost over, and he was glad. Zariq stood alongside his new wife, his hand resting gently at the base of her spine, and tried his very best to look pleased. But, he wasn't sure he was doing a very convincing job. But, it felt good to rest his hand there. He felt the heat of her body through the thin fabric of her wedding dress. The warmth was a tempting flame that ignited the beginnings of need in him. But he wasn't going to tell her that. Not now.
He gazed around cavernous, high-ceilinged room and felt relief at the sight of the guests starting to file out of the room. It had been a long afternoon and an even longer early evening. It had seemed like everyone who was important in Qazhar society had wanted to meet his famous new wife. He could understand that. Her face was on every magazine cover, and whenever you turned on TV she was there. He'd never seen anything like it in all his thirty-two years.
Zariq stood at the door, saying formal farewells to guests as they were leaving. He glanced at Dakota. As always, something primal stirred within him as he looked at her. It was undeniable that she was beautiful. Her graceful body filled the wedding outfit in a way that made something tighten in his own body.
She turned and looked at him and he felt his pulse race. Her eyes were icy blue and shimmered with a brightness he'd never seen in any of the many women he'd encountered. Her pretty features were exquisitely balanced; high cheek bones, graceful jawline and full lips that enjoyed the most tempting pout he'd ever witnessed. He especially liked the way her lips expressed annoyance or disapproval which, these days, was a common occurrence. Her blonde hair shone with a healthy glow. Loose locks traced attractive ribbons down to her long, graceful neck. Her skin was clear and perfect. He couldn't have asked for a more beautiful woman to be his wife.
He'd been tempted so many times these past few weeks.
And, every time, she had denied him.
Surely she wouldn't do that to him tonight of all nights. He sighed as he recalled the way she'd looked at him in the limo. There was always such defiance in Dakota. It had been there from the moment she had agreed to marry him. After she had gotten over the shock of finding out from whom she was descended.
"Good night, sheikh," one of the country's senior diplomats said as he and his wife bid Dakota and Zariq goodnight.
"Thank you for coming," Zariq replied.
The man's wife shook Dakota's hand enthusiastically. "I'm so happy for you, dear," she gasped.
Dakota smiled. "I'm glad you had a lovely time."
The woman peered at Zariq. "You're a lucky man, sheikh Al Kharif," she said. "But, I suppose you know that, already."
Zariq nodded and smiled at Dakota, trying to make his expression resemble pride. "I certainly do know how lucky I am," he replied.
Zariq saw Dakota's eyes narrow imperceptibly. Then, he moved onto the next couple who were about to leave. And the same thing started all over again.
Zariq wondered how long he was going to be able to stand this routine. He knew the rule. In public, he and Dakota were to put on the best possible show of unity. They were one of the most famous couple in the world, right now. That alone made Zariq feel uneasy. His private life was no longer quite so private. Everywhere he went, photos were taken, and he was subjected to questions about the whereabouts of Dakota.
The other side of their agreement was proving to be the hardest to keep up. In private, he and Dakota had agreed to keep their distance. That wasn't strictly true, he corrected himself. That particular condition had been one her demands. If she was to marry him, and remain married for the rest of their lives, they would live separate lives. Well away from prying eyes and the the intrusion of the media.
Zariq wasn't ignorant of the ways of royal families throughout the world. He knew these kinds of marriages were commonplace. He had personally known royal couples who lived like that. And he'd seen the unhappiness such an arrangement usually created.
"Cousin," a voice came from behind him. Zariq turned and saw his cousin Kadeem Al Kharif. Next to Kadeem, stood a real princess, his wife Eliana. She came from a neighboring kingdom. Kareem and Eliana had also endured an arrangement, albeit of a different kind. They had almost ended up not getting married because Eliana's father had disapproved of Kadeem, thinking Zariq's cousin unfit to marry his precious daughter. But, it had all worked out well in the end for them both.
"Kadeem," Zariq replied. He leaned forward and kissed Eliana on the cheek. "So nice to see you both," Zariq added.
Eliana went immediately to Dakota. "That dress looks beautiful on you," she observed. Eliana glanced at Kadeem. "Didn't I say how lovely it looked, Kadeem?" she asked her husband.
He nodded patiently. "I think you said it more than once, Eliana." Kadeem rolled his eyes. "In fact, I seem to remember you saying nothing else all through the ceremony."
Eliana pouted at Kadeem. "You know how much I like weddings," she snapped with good-natured humor glinting in her eyes.
Kadeem nodded. "I sure do." He leaned an arm across Zariq shoulders. "And you, dear cousin. I thought you were going to say some of your vows in English."
Zariq shook his head and glanced at Dakota. "She wanted to keep that all to herself," he said. "I was more than happy to let that happen."
"Did you hear the good news?" Kadeem asked, bright-eyed and glancing at Eliana.
"What?" Zariq asked sensing something important was to be announced.
"Eliana is expecting," Kadeem said proudly.
Dakota gasped and embraced Eliana. "I'm so happy for you," she exclaimed.
Eliana placed a hand on her middle. "I'll be showing soon," she enthused.
Zariq shook Kadeem's hand and grinned. "Another Al Kharif. Congratulations."
"Maybe another prince,"
Kadeem replied. He gave Eliana a teasing glance.
"Or princess," Eliana retorted quickly.
"Boy or girl," Dakota said. "I'm sure you'll be one big happy family."
"You planning on having any?" Eliana asked Dakota.
Zariq saw Dakota's cheeks flush instantly. She glanced hesitantly at him. "We only just married," he replied, smiling. He looked at Dakota. "But, yes. We'd love to have lots of children. Isn't that right, Dakota?"
Dakota's eyes flashed momentarily. Then she just as quickly composed herself. Zariq was sure that neither Eliana nor Kadeem had noticed her reaction to his comment. "Absolutely," she managed to say.
Zariq knew he'd probably pay a hefty price for the remark he'd made. But it had been too great a temptation to resist. He and Dakota had already argued about sleeping arrangements. And they'd come to the conclusion that appearances would be best maintained if they shared a suite of rooms. Just as long as it contained two separate bedrooms. And that was what had been discreetly arranged. Rooms normally intended for palace guests had been converted.
Zariq knew that staff in the palace would be loyal, and that no hint of the unusual sleeping arrangements would leak out. But that was the least of his problems. He predicted that being in such close proximity to Dakota would probably drive him crazy. Especially if she insisted on forcing Zariq to keep his promise that there would be no intimate relations.
That was what she had called it. "Intimate relations". Zariq had another way of describing it.
No sex with her husband. Ever.
Was she trying to torment him? Didn't she realize what that would drive him to do? Dakota was well aware of Zariq's reputation with women. The subject had been well covered by the media during the lead up to the wedding.
Every one of Zariq's previous partners had been interviewed by the media, searching for salacious gossip. And some of his former lovers had been more than happy to tell all about their time with Zariq. He knew it must have been distressing for his family to hear some of the stories. Zariq's father had been particularly annoyed. There was nothing new about that, Zariq reflected. His father still didn't approve of Dakota. Not entirely. He'd accepted it, but reluctantly.
But, they had a free press now in Qazhar. And, with that, came the inevitable problems when it came to keeping the private lives of the elite of Qazhar under wraps. There weren't many secrets in Qazhar now. Except, of course, the secret nature of Zariq's marriage to the exotic American model who was now his wife.
Kadeem and Eliana made their way out. The next half hour was spent saying farewells to the remaining guests. The last to leave were his parents. In spite of his father's still obvious reservations about the marriage, it was clear that they were both proud of Zariq. Finally, he had married. There must have been many times during the last decade when they'd despaired of ever seeing him wed.
Well now they could be satisfied that he was well and truly married, Zariq told himself.
Closing the door after waving goodbye to his parents, Zariq turned, expecting to find Dakota standing behind him. Now that he had her all to himself, he had planned for a few quiet moments with her. But she was nowhere to be seen. He heard heels clacking on the steps of the staircase which led to the upper floor level of the palace. Looking up, he saw Dakota racing up the stairs, her gown clutched in her hands.
"Dakota," he called out. She didn't react, but kept on going, even though he was sure she must have heard him.
Zariq started to make his way up the broad staircase, determined to catch her before she reached the room. He knew she planned to get to the room and probably close the door on him.
Did she dare lock him out on their wedding night? He drove her earlier comment away from his consciousness. He still hardly believed she intended to hold him to their agreement. He'd seen the way she'd looked at him today, during the wedding ceremony. And during his speech at the reception when he'd heaped praise on her. She had smiled at him, warmly and, he thought, with genuine affection. Surely it hadn't all been an act, he told himself.
Zariq made his way down the corridor. Far ahead he saw Dakota at the door to their suite. She turned and glanced, wide-eyed, in his direction. Then, she stepped through the open door. The sound of if slamming echoed down the corridor. He cursed and picked up his pace. Finally reaching the door he pushed on it.
Locked.
He grunted and tried the door handle again. It wouldn't budge.
"Dakota!" he exclaimed. "Can you please open the door?"
Silence.
In spite of everything that told him it was the wrong thing to do, he hammered his fist against the closed door. The sound echoed down the length of the corridor.
"Dakota," he groaned. "This isn't what we both want," he said. He tried to keep his voice down, aware that the sound would carry a long distance. There might be curious listeners further down there, he told himself.
There was a long silence, and he wondered if she would ever say anything. Finally, he heard her quiet voice. It sounded like she was standing right behind the door. "You gave me your word, Zariq," she murmured.
He sighed heavily. "I know I did." He thought for a long moment before continuing. "But, I saw the way you looked at me earlier, Dakota." He lowered his voice and leaned his head against the door. "You want me," he growled. "I know you do. I saw it in your eyes."
There was a long pause. And then she spoke: "It doesn't mean a thing, Zariq. I needed people to believe. I wasn't going to spend all day showing you how I really feel about all of this."
He felt his heart sink. It wasn't the first time he'd felt that since she'd come to his country. And he was sure it wouldn't be the last time, either.
"Can't we talk?" he asked.
Again, there was a long silence. "I think it's best that you don't come in here tonight," she said.
"You really think that?"
"I do," she replied. "Didn't you tell me you're a man of your word, Zariq? That you would never lie to me?"
He drew in a deep breath. How was he supposed to answer that? He knew that he'd said those exact words to her. That he'd made a promise to her. So why was it proving so hard to keep his word? Why couldn't he honor his promise to her?
It was simple really. Having her close to him these past few weeks had ignited a fierce need in him. She had become like an impossible temptation, constantly out of reach, permanently untouchable. When he'd given his word that they would have no intimate relations, he had done so almost casually, without giving it any thought. He'd been confident he could keep that promise.
But, the consequences of being in such close proximity to Dakota had been surprising and also a torment. One he wasn't sure he could continue to endure.
"This is a big palace, Zariq," Dakota murmured from behind the door. "You've told me there're plenty of other rooms for you to sleep in. Maybe tonight's the night for you to do just that."
He heard her footsteps on the marble floor inside the suite, and knew she was walking to the bedroom which had been allocated to her. He rested his palm against the wooden door. He sighed, admitting a temporary defeat. He should have known she would do something like this, he told himself. The door was locked from the inside. Access to his new bride was being denied.
Zariq turned away from the door and walked along the corridor, reaching a suite on the opposite side. He pushed open the door and stepped into the dark room. He flicked the light-switch and gazed around the familiar interior. This had been his apartment before Dakota moved in. He stepped across the marble floor and stood in the middle of the room. He felt a curious melancholy take hold of him. This room was a reminder of how his life had once been. He'd enjoyed the kind of life most men could only dream of. Wealth. Privilege. Women. Power.
