Innocent's Desert Wedding Contract

by Heidi Rice

  ‘I didn’t run.’ She locked her knees. If she showed him a weakness now, she would be lost. For ever. ‘I just needed time to think.’

  ‘About what?’ he said, the caustic question so ludicrous she almost laughed.

  ‘About everything, Karim. About you, about me.’ She jerked her thumb between the two of them. ‘About what happened between us last night. And about what has to happen now.’

  He stepped closer, his gaze so dark and tortured now she could feel the emotion threatening to overwhelm her. ‘I told you what is going to happen now. You’ll have to stay…your virginity has a significance that you—’

  ‘I know about the Law of Marriage of the Sheikhs,’ she cut him off.

  His eyes narrowed. And she thought she might be sick, her stomach turning over with dread. Did he think she had always known, and that was why she’d lied? To force his hand, to make this a real marriage? Didn’t he trust her at all?

  She had always, always trusted him. Did that make her a fool? Or did it simply make her a woman in love…with the wrong man?

  ‘If you knew, why did you lie about your virginity?’ He bit the words out through gritted teeth, the fury sparking in his eyes, but behind it she could hear his defensiveness, and knew this was about so much more than that foolish lie.

  ‘I lied originally because I was scared you wouldn’t want to go through with the engagement,’ she said, with brutal honesty. ‘And I never thought you would find out the truth.’

  ‘You must have known I would though, once we agreed to sleep together,’ he murmured.

  And she realised he was still guarding his heart with a fervour she had never even attempted to guard hers.

  ‘Did you think you could trap me into making this marriage real?’

  There were a million ways she could defend herself. But all she said was: ‘Apparently not, because now I want a divorce.’

  She could see she had shocked him, the turmoil of emotions crossing his face easy to read for the first time since she had met him.

  ‘What?’ he said, the stunned disbelief making it very clear to her that he knew… He knew he had captured her heart—that last night had been about so much more than just sex for her—and he’d planned to use it against her. ‘Why?’

  She dragged a steadying breath into her lungs, wrapped her hands around her waist, the last of the sunlight disappearing behind the rocks to chill her skin, and gathered the last of her courage. ‘Because I love you, Karim. And I don’t think you can ever love me back.’

  Her declaration—so open, so forthright, so vulnerable—struck him like a sucker-punch to the gut, the bravery and dignity on her face as she offered him her heart simply staggering.

  A single tear ran down her cheek, joining the sheen of fresh water making her skin glow in the dusky light.

  A part of him didn’t want to believe her. Didn’t want to accept she had offered him everything. Because then it would require him to admit why he could offer her nothing in return.

  But then she swiped the tear away, the courage and determination in that single gesture almost bringing him to his knees, and the truth pierced his heart.

  He needed her, he wanted her, he loved her too, body and soul.

  It didn’t matter that it was too soon, too fast, too terrifying. He felt the ice he’d wrapped around his heart for so long cracking and breaking open inside him, and he knew he couldn’t stop it happening any more. Couldn’t deny or deceive or hide or escape or fail to confront these feelings any longer. Or he would lose her.

  ‘I’ll get dressed and we can return to the palace,’ she said.

  But as she went to walk past him, he grasped her arm.

  ‘No…’ he said. ‘Don’t…’ The words choked off in his throat as she turned, her eyes still so full of the compassion he’d tried so hard to reject. ‘I don’t want a divorce.’

  The look she sent him was full of the pain already tearing him apart. ‘It’s not enough, Karim,’ she said softly. ‘I can’t stay just because you need me, or you want me, or because of some old law that says you have to keep me as your wife. I need more to make this marriage real. I need to know you are at least capable of trying to love me back.’

  ‘You wouldn’t want my love…’ He pulled her round to face him, dragged her into his arms, felt her shake, her body so fragile, so slender and yet so strong, so perfect against his. ‘Not if you knew.’

  She looked up at him, grasped his cheeks, her hands cool against his hot flesh, the shattering tenderness in the misty green destroying the last of the ice.

  ‘Knew what, Karim?’

  The sob that had been lodged in his throat ever since he was a child, ever since that fateful night, when he had let his mother be beaten and done nothing to help, and all the days after, when he had watched her sink into herself and he had been unable to beckon her back, grew so huge it tore into his chest… And finally unlocked the words burning in his throat.

  ‘I don’t deserve you. I never could.’

  Orla could see the crippling pain, the same nightmare that had haunted him that morning. And all the platitudes she could have told him died in her throat. It wasn’t enough to tell him he did deserve her. What she felt for him was new and scary and untried. But she knew it was real. And she knew he could love her too, if only he would let himself be vulnerable.

  It was a start, an opening, she’d thought she’d never have, and she needed to be so careful now, not to destroy that fragile seed with her own fears and inadequacy.

  ‘Why do you think that?’ she asked, the tears clogging her throat as she stroked his cheeks, the muscles rigid with tension.

  He pulled away from her, thrust shaking fingers through his hair, and she knew he didn’t want to tell her, from the guilt and shame in his eyes.

  ‘I used you, Orla. All the way along the line. How does that make me any different from him?’ he said, his voice breaking, his chin sinking to his chest. ‘He hurt her, and I couldn’t protect her.’

  ‘But you were just a little boy,’ she said, her heart shattering for that frightened child. ‘How could you have protected her?’

  ‘I know but… She never recovered,’ he said. ‘She was always so sad. I tried to make her happy…’ She watched his throat contract as he swallowed, the burden that boy had taken on still weighing him down. ‘But I never could.’

  The tears ran down her cheeks now. ‘That wasn’t your job, Karim.’

  He lifted his head, his gaze finally locked on hers. ‘I can’t go through that again. I’m sorry.’

  And suddenly she knew why he was so scared to love her. And her heart lifted in her throat. All this time she’d thought he was protecting himself, when what he’d really been trying to do was protect her.

  The words Ameera had said came back to her again—‘I think he is not a man like his father—and you are nothing like his mother’—and at last she knew what to say.

  ‘You’re not him, Karim. And you never could be.’ He shook his head, but she held on. ‘But more importantly, I’m not her.’

  His tortured gaze intensified, until she felt it sear her skin.

  ‘I’m not fragile,’ she said, because she knew she wasn’t, and she never had been. He’d shown her that, protecting her and cherishing her in ways no man ever had before him, even when he didn’t want to. ‘And I won’t break the way she did.’

  He swore softly and she saw the moment he realised the burden had been lifted. That what she was telling him was the truth.

  He gripped her shoulders, then tugged her back into his arms, hugging her so hard she felt her heart soar.

  ‘That’s good,’ he said. ‘Because if you ever run away from me like that again, I may have to spank you.’

  Even though she knew he was kidding, the threat felt somehow erotic as the laugh burst out of her mouth and she struggled out of
his arms. ‘Good luck with that, Your Majesty.’

  His eyebrows rose up his forehead, but then he barked out a laugh of his own, the husky chuckle music to her ears.

  ‘Goddamn it, I love you,’ he said, before covering her mouth with his in a harsh, searing kiss.

  I know.

  She kissed him back with all the new, exciting love in her heart.

  As she fisted her fingers into his sweaty hair and dragged him closer to let the soft line of her body mould to the hard, unyielding line of his, she knew this was just the beginning. That they had a long way to go yet. But she intended to enjoy every single hot, exhilarating minute, getting to know this dominant, commanding, overwhelming man—her King, her husband, her lover. While trying to figure out how the hell to be his Queen.

  But as he scooped her up into his arms and carried her towards the tent she’d set up in the palm trees her core quickened, and her heart swelled—and she knew she was already Karim’s Queen in the only place that really mattered.

  Inside his full, open, possessive and wonderfully overprotective heart.

  EPILOGUE

  One year later

  ‘KARIM, YOU HAVE to let me go, everyone is due to arrive in less than three hours and I’ve got a million and one things to do,’ Orla demanded, going for firm and getting giggly instead when her husband’s arms banded around her waist and he dragged her back into their four-poster bed. ‘And so do you!’ she shrieked, a shiver of excitement rippling through her body as he nuzzled the spot behind her ear he knew was guaranteed to melt every last one of her cognitive braincells.

  ‘Explain to me again,’ he murmured, nibbling kisses across her nape and sending more delicious shivers of sensation into her sex, ‘why we had to invite Zane and Raif and their wives and their five thousand children to Kildare on our wedding anniversary? When I wanted you all to myself?’ he added, still doing diabolical things to her neck.

  ‘Because it’s been eight months since we went to Rahim and Omari’s naming ceremony,’ she said, thinking of Raif and Kasia’s identical twin boys. ‘And four months since we saw them all in New York. And I miss them.’ The families had become friends of both her and Karim, treasured friends. Orla, particularly, had relied on the help and advice of Catherine and Kasia in the last year as she had adapted to her new role as the Queen of Zafar.

  These days she and Karim divided their time between the desert kingdom, his house in London and their home in Kildare—which Karim had spent a small fortune bringing back to its former glory, just for her.

  She placed a hand on her belly, except it wasn’t just them any more.

  ‘Plus I promised Kaliah we’d let her see the stud,’ she said breathlessly, attempting to squirm out of his arms as his focussed caresses had the shivers of excitement multiplying.

  She really did have a ton of things to do.

  But then he placed his hands on her breasts, plucking the nipples the way he knew she loved, and she flinched.

  ‘Hey?’ He let her go immediately, and turned her to face him, the playfulness abruptly gone. ‘Did I hurt you?’

  ‘It’s okay, Karim,’ she said, the concern on his face making her heart melt… As it did on a regular basis, every time he treated her as if she was the most precious thing in the world to him.

  He swore under his breath and cradled her cheek. ‘Are you sure? You flinched…’ he said, the bone-deep concern in his eyes making her realise she was going to have to tell him her news. Sooner rather than later. ‘Was I too rough? I’m sorry.’

  ‘No, not at all… It’s just…’ She hesitated.

  She’d wanted to prepare for this announcement. She still wasn’t quite over the shock of what she’d discovered yesterday morning herself. They hadn’t planned this. Had never even spoken about the possibility. Not yet anyway. Perhaps she should have paid more attention when she’d switched contraception, but she must have slipped up somehow. And so here they were.

  And while she was sure he would probably be as excited as she was…probably…she really wasn’t sure if they were ready.

  The last year had been one full of tumultuous choices and decisions, a huge adjustment for both of them. They’d had to make so many big changes already, Karim deciding to remain as King, in a constitutional capacity, while Zafar clawed its way back to full democracy and prosperity. The decision to come back to Kildare during the racing season and the job she had taken in charge of the stud when Carly had been headhunted by another stud… And, of course, the commitment they’d made to each other, to do whatever it took to make their marriage work.

  This was going to be another massive change, and, as excited as she was about it on one level, she didn’t want it to threaten what they had worked so hard to achieve over the last year.

  ‘It’s just what?’ he said, dropping his hand to rest on her shoulder, the concern in his gaze intensifying. ‘What aren’t you telling me?’

  She covered his hand with hers, forced a tremulous smile to her lips. ‘It’s just, my breasts are super-sensitive at the moment.’

  ‘Okay,’ he said, still looking concerned. And totally not getting it. ‘Are you unwell?’ he asked, the concern turning to worry.

  ‘No, I’m… I’m…’ Oh, for goodness’ sake, just tell him. ‘I’m pregnant,’ she blurted out, past the boulder of anxiety starting to strangle her.

  ‘You’re…’ His gaze darted down to her belly, her very flat belly, then back to her face. The flush of colour on his cheeks only added to the shock shadowing his eyes. ‘You’re… You’re going to have a baby?’ he managed. ‘My baby? Our baby?’

  She nodded, blinking back tears now, the glazed wonder on his face making hope swell right past the anxiety and burst like a firework in her chest.

  He’s not upset, he’s not unsure, he looks absolutely overjoyed.

  She laughed as he rained kisses over her face, her hair, her body telling her how excited he was, how proud he was, how he couldn’t wait to meet their child…

  Then he made love to her, so carefully, so tenderly, cherishing each sigh, each sob, each shiver, drawing out her pleasure until she had to beg him for release. And her heart filled with joy all over again. Everything was going to be wonderful.

  Karim lay in the bed a little while later, the afterglow still echoing through his system while he stroked his wife’s hair.

  ‘It’s all right, Karim,’ she murmured sleepily beside him as she snuggled into his arms. ‘I still won’t break.’

  You might not but I probably will.

  ‘You better not.’ He let out a husky chuckle, and placed a tender kiss on her forehead, swallowing down the familiar flare of panic.

  He loved her so damn much, and in approximately eight months’ time there would be two people whom he would have to guard with his life, because he could not afford to lose them.

  He shuddered, remembering the two squalling baby boys in Raif and Kasia’s arms and the two little girls by their sides at the naming ceremony he and Orla had attended eight months ago.

  Dear God, possibly even three people—if Orla has more than one baby.

  He wasn’t remotely prepared for this, was fairly sure he did not deserve it. He placed a hand on her belly, let the well of love inside him deepen and swell… And forced himself to relax.

  Perhaps he could get some tips on fatherhood from Raif and Zane, when they arrived. They seemed to have survived it.

  He sucked in a breath and let it out again, then murmured, ‘I hope you realise you’ve totally topped my surprise anniversary gift.’

  Orla lifted up, propping an elbow on his chest to grin down at him, not looking remotely remorseful. ‘I have? What is it?’

  He grinned back at her. ‘Not quite as phenomenal as a baby.’

  Or possibly two babies! Damn.

  She sank down to prop her chin on her folded hands. ‘Really?
But close?’ she said, excitement and curiosity sparking in her eyes. ‘So what is it?’

  ‘That’s for me to know and you to find out,’ he said, kissing her nose.

  He’d had the deeds to the stud put back in her name. So that she—and her sister Dervla—would own it again. He knew she’d be thrilled and humbled and overwhelmed, but not nearly as thrilled and humbled and overwhelmed as he was right now after her surprise gift, so it seemed only fair to tease her about it.

  He lifted her off him. ‘Come on, we need to get up,’ he said, giving her a gentle pat on the bottom.

  ‘But, Karim,’ she cried as he managed to manoeuvre himself out of the bed. Reluctantly. ‘Seriously you’re not going to tell me what it is?’ she finished with a definite whine in her voice.

  ‘Nope, no time,’ he said, his grin spreading when she frowned. ‘We’ve got a million and one things to do before our guests arrive.’

  By which time she’d be positively bursting with anticipation and desperation.

  Welcome to my world, my darling wife.

  Coming next month

  PRIDE & THE ITALIAN’S PROPOSAL

  Kate Hewitt

  ‘I judge on what I see,’ Fausto allowed as he captured her queen easily. She looked unfazed by the move, as if she’d expected it, although to Fausto’s eye it had seemed a most inexpert choice. ‘Doesn’t everyone do the same?’

  ‘Some people are more accepting than others.’

  ‘Is that a criticism?’

  ‘You seem cynical,’ Liza allowed.

  ‘I consider myself a realist,’ Fausto returned, and she laughed, a crystal-clear sound that seemed to reverberate through him like the ringing of a bell.

  ‘Isn’t that what every cynic says?’

  ‘And what are you? An optimist?’ He imbued the word with the necessary scepticism.

  ‘I’m a realist. I’ve learned to be.’ For a second she looked bleak, and Fausto realised he was curious.