by Cara Albany
Immediately she was noticed, and cameras were pointed in her direction. Dakota knew she must look startled as she stood at the entrance to the tent. She heard her name being shouted and questions being hurled at her. She couldn't make out what people were saying. All she knew was that something was causing this commotion. And, whatever it was, she was sure it wasn't good.
Then she saw Zariq. He was standing in front of the rope. When he saw Dakota his eyes widened and he started to make his way toward her. As he did so, Dakota saw cameras pointed straight at Zariq. His every step was followed by the cameras. Again, Dakota asked herself what all this could possibly be about.
Zariq arrived at her side. His brows were deeply furrowed. She thought he looked annoyed, but there was also a determined look in his eyes.
"What's going on?" Dakota asked.
Zariq hesitated and turned back to face the journalists. As he did so there was a flurry of activity as images were captured. The shouting from the journalists intensified. Dakota didn't feel much like smiling, but sheer habit compelled her to at least try.
Zariq slid an arm around her waist. "Let's go inside for a moment," he suggested.
"Why?"
He shook his head. "I have to tell you something," he murmured.
Dakota felt something twist in her middle. Gazing up into Zariq's eyes she could see the concern in them. Whatever had happened must be serious, she told herself. She tried to swallow, but couldn't. Her heart was pounding at a furious pace.
With one last tentative glance at the frantic media entourage, Dakota followed Zariq into the tent. He closed the entrance and came to her as she stood in the center of the room. "Let's sit down a moment," he said glancing at the sofa.
She shook her head, not feeling like sitting down. "What's happened. Has somebody died?" she demanded, feeling suddenly panicked. It seemed like the obvious question to ask.
Zariq shook his head. "No. But, this could be almost as bad," he replied.
"You're scaring me, Zariq," she complained. "Tell me."
Zariq ran a hand through his hair. Up close he looked suddenly tired, she told herself. And it had nothing to do with what they'd done the previous night. He looked thoughtful for a few long moments, which just caused her tension to tighten even more. He took a few paces in front of her, clearly trying to compose himself. He was obviously trying to find the right words.
Then he halted and gazed at her. "There isn't going to be a ceremony today at the shrine."
She squinted at Zariq. "Why not?"
He frowned and sighed heavily. He peered into her eyes, and she could suddenly see real pain in his gaze. "Because there's no point."
She gasped. "What do you mean there's no point? He's my ancestor. Why wouldn't I pay my respects? Wasn't that the whole idea of coming out here?"
Zariq's shoulders slumped and he peered at Dakota. This time there was more than pain in his gaze. There was resignation. "Because he's not your ancestor, Dakota. That's why."
The words hit her with the ferocity of a physical blow. She stared at Zariq, hardly able to comprehend what he'd just said to her. She felt her nerves shaking, sensed a heaviness in her stomach as if she'd taken a blow to her abdomen. "What are you talking about?" she snapped. "Of course, he's my ancestor. Everyone knows that."
Zariq shook his head slowly. "He's not." His voice was heavy and she could hear the certainty in it.
Dakota scoffed incredulously. "This is nonsense. I saw all the paperwork. So did you. It's in the archives. My great great grandfather's name was there."
"The man you thought was your grandfather isn't the same person listed on the ancient documents," Zariq announced in a flat voice. He'd said it in almost a matter-of-fact manner, as if he already knew it to be the truth. As if he'd already accepted it as fact.
Once again, she felt as if she'd been struck by a physical blow. She took a few steps away from Zariq, needing the space to think, the chance to take this in. How could this be? Hadn't everyone agreed that she was descended from an aristocratic, elite lineage? Hadn't all the checks proven that to be true?
Dakota turned to face Zariq. "There must be some mistake," she pleaded.
Zariq shook his head. He looked crushed, she told herself. This had affected him as much as it was hurting her. "There's no mistake. I've seen the evidence."
"Evidence of what?" Dakota asked sharply.
"That your real great great grandfather lied about his identity when he emigrated to America. In some way or other he managed to take on the identity of the real person who was listed on those ancient documents. At the time when he did it, there was a tribal conflict going on in my country. And in the chaos, some people did very bad things."
Dakota sighed. "He lied?" she asked incredulously. "He pretended he was someone else?"
Zariq nodded. "The real descendant of the chieftain died during the tribal war."
Dakota felt her shoulders slump as the reality of what Zariq was telling her sank in. Her mind was filled with warring thoughts. She wanted to deny this, but knew she couldn't. If Zariq had seen the evidence, then it must be true, she told herself. He wouldn't lie to her. After last night, she wasn't willing to believe he would ever do that.
"Are you sure?" she asked.
"They showed me some of the scanned emigration documents. Someone back in England got involved. Searched in archives." Zariq sighed. "Papers were forged. Maybe your grandfather did it so he could marry his English wife before he emigrated to America. It was a lot easier back then. Not like today when everything is digital."
A heaviness had settled in Dakota's middle. A crushing disappointment. Her relatives back in the States had always been proud of their enterprising relative. Proud of how he had fought hard to achieve a decent life in America, just like so many others at that time. And now, it seemed like it had all been built on the back of a lie.
"How could he have done such a thing?" she moaned. She saw the sympathy in Zariq's eyes. Dakota wondered what this could mean for her marriage to him. To her new-found relationship with her husband.
She advanced toward Zariq. "This has to do with that journalist, hasn't it? The one who's been doing all the digging."
Zariq smiled sarcastically. "That journalist turns out to have been Elena," he admitted.
"Elena!" Dakota shrieked. "She's the one behind this?"
Zariq nodded. "Seems she was trying to bait us all along. Trying to make sure when the story broke, she'd get exclusive access to us. But, somebody leaked it." Zariq smiled wryly. "She's got more enemies than even I thought she had."
"That bitch!" Dakota snapped. "How could she do this? If she's had a hand in this, that must mean it can't be true."
Zariq's brows furrowed. "It's true, Dakota. Even if Elena has been involved, that doesn't stop it from being true."
"How can you be certain?" Dakota asked.
"I spoke to one or two people this morning. Back in Qazhar city." His gaze softened. "It's true, Dakota."
Dakota felt a sinking feeling take hold of her. Her legs felt suddenly weak as the reality of what this would mean for her sank in. She peered at Zariq. "Does this mean I can't be married to you?" she asked, almost unable to believe she was even saying such a thing to him.
Zariq's eyes widened. "What are you saying?"
"If I'm just a nobody, then I can't be your wife," she moaned.
Zariq advanced toward her, reaching out. "You a nobody?" he exclaimed sharply. "Impossible." She folded her arms tight around herself and peered at him. He halted and shook his head. "You can't believe that, Dakota. Not after what I told you last night."
"But, this changes everything," she complained.
Zariq shook his head. "I doesn't change how I feel about you, Dakota. Nothing will ever change that."
Dakota grunted. "Don't lie to me, Zariq. Once this gets out, no-one will want me in Qazhar. The marriage will be seen to have been a fake. It will be annulled."
His eyes widened. Now she could see th
e beginnings of concern in them. Even a hint of indignation. "This marriage is as real as any other. My vows were spoken to you, and they will not be reversed." He reached out and grasped her arm. "I will not allow such a thing to happen. You are my wife. And that will never change."
She tilted her head and pulled her arm free of his grasp. "I know how marriages can be ended in this country. It isn't complicated." She'd heard stories of how a husband could end a marriage by simply announcing it was over. It was far less complicated than back home, she told herself. Maybe, given this horrible revelation, that would be a blessing. Then they could both move on.
"If you think I'm going to do anything like that, you don't know who I am," Zariq declared. "After last night, there's no way I'm going to lose you, Dakota.
She gazed into his eyes. His gaze was unflinching. Determined.
There had been sincerity in his words. Conviction in his voice. The same genuine quality she'd heard back at the encampment, as he'd held her in his arms. If this had happened a few weeks ago, then things might have been different. But not now. Not after what they'd shared a few hours ago. Now, she could believe him when he said he wouldn't let her go. Not even because of what he'd found out this morning.
For a few long moments they didn't say anything to one another. She paced the carpeted floor, listening to the cacophony of voices from outside. Then she turned to him. "What are we going to do about them?" she asked.
"I've already spoken with our media liaison," he said. "A statement will be put out after we leave."
"We're leaving?" she demanded.
"It's for the best, Dakota. We can get in the car and drive. We'll be back at the palace for lunchtime," he explained.
"With those vultures in hot pursuit?" she said glaring in the direction of the tent entrance.
"Once we're in the palace we'll be fine," he consoled.
"And then what, Zariq?" she asked abruptly.
"We can continue as man and wife," he replied evenly. He seemed to be so sure that he and Dakota could carry on, in spite of this terrible revelation.
"You know they're not going to allow us to stay together, Zariq," she stated.
"Who isn't?"
"The same people who wanted us married in the first place," she replied. "Your father, for one."
"I'll speak with him," Zariq retorted. "He'll see sense, once he understands how much I love you."
His casual declaration took her aback. She peered at him for a long moment, scarcely believing he could still want her. Hardly able to comprehend what he must be thinking. He'd been under so much pressure to find a wife and, to a large extent, she had been forced upon him. And, she had to admit, since they'd married things hadn't been easy between them. So how come this tragic news had to come at the very moment when she and Zariq had seemed to have overcome the barrier which had stood between them since their wedding day? This was the last thing either of them wanted. The last thing either of them deserved.
Zariq came close to her and took her by the shoulders, holding her gently and tenderly. "I love you, Dakota," he murmured. "And nothing is going to change that."
She groaned and then rolled her eyes, gazing up at the roof of the tent. She lowered her head and peered at him. "How can you say that, Zariq? You know what we're going to be up against."
"Are you saying you don't love me?" Zariq asked softly. The way he'd asked the question made her heart throb with instant pain. "Tell me you don't feel the same way. Tell me you don't love me," he stated firmly. It was a demand. She knew this moment might decided her fate. Their destiny as a married couple.
She turned her head away from him. Then she felt his fingers on her chin and he gently guided her face so that she was looking up at him. He leaned down and kissed her. It was a tender, affectionate kiss and it confirmed that the words he'd spoken to her were true. Zariq did love her. Of that there was no doubt.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "I love you, too, Zariq," she gasped, feeling the relief of simply uttering the words.
Now that she'd said the words, she expected she'd feel instantly better. But she didn't. In fact, anxiety flickered into life inside her. Doubt, which had hovered at the back of her mind, took possession of her awareness. Was she willing to do this to Zariq? She knew that the next few days would be torture for him. There would be humiliation as the story came out. As Dakota was revealed to be nothing more than his foreign wife with no more claim to the royal sheikh than any other woman.
What would that do to him? What would it do to them? Dakota released Zariq and paced the floor, clasping her hands tightly. This was a mess, and she wasn't sure it could be sorted out by going into hiding. The media wouldn't let go until they got their pound of flesh.
"I'm going out there, right now, to give a statement," she declared.
"What!" Zariq replied. His eyes widened with disbelief. "You can't do that."
She shook her head. "I won't run, Zariq. I won't hide. I'm going to deal with this head on."
"Why?"
She moved toward him. "Don't you see it's the only way? If I run from this, they'll never stop chasing me." Her gaze softened. "Chasing us until they've beaten us down. Until they've got the story they need to feed their insatiable appetite for scandal."
"But, you can't do this, Dakota. I won't allow you," he said.
"I have to, Zariq. It's the only way."
Zariq gazed at her. She knew her expression was determined and defiant. He seemed to be measuring her, judging her as he peered into her eyes.
He sighed heavily and then nodded. "Fine. If that's what you want to do. But you're not doing it alone. If you're going to speak to them, then I'm going to be standing right by your side."
Dakota smiled at him. She shouldn't have expected anything less from him. She saw the familiar defiance in his eyes. "Are you sure?"
Zariq nodded. "Of course I am." There was a steadiness in his voice and a firmness in his gaze. "You're my wife and I will do anything for you. If it means we'll stay together."
He came to her and slid his arms around her waist. She felt him press against her and she gazed up into his eyes. Then he leaned down and kissed her. Relief swept through her as she sank into his embrace, as she felt his tender kiss.
When he lifted his head away from hers, she could see the satisfaction on his face. They were going to face this crisis together.
She thought for a moment. "What are we going to tell them?" she asked.
"The truth. That we are in love and that we plan to remain that way," he stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He lifted a brow. "As man and wife."
She smiled up at him, stretched up on her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around his shoulders again, and kissed him on his full, moist lips. "Why am I not surprised at that?" she asked after their lips had parted.
"Don't ever be surprised by how much I love you," he murmured.
Her heart filled with joy as she looked up into his eyes, seeing the real love there, the true affection born out of the cauldron of their difficulties.
"Let's go," he said, taking her hand.
