by Abby Green
‘Because you didn’t really want to marry me.’
Kat was trying desperately to get Zafir to admit that he didn’t really mean what he said. Because if she believed him and he didn’t...she’d never recover.
He looked at her for a long time. And even trapped under that intense gaze Kat couldn’t help but be acutely aware of his powerfully lean body in dark trousers and a white shirt.
After a long moment he said, ‘I can’t deny that.’
She sucked in a painful breath. She hadn’t actually expected to hear him agree with her, and it should have been a relief but it wasn’t.
‘But not because of why you’re thinking, Kat.’
Kat’s circling thoughts came to a halt.
‘I was very careful to keep my feelings for you superficial, Kat. I had you on a pedestal as this perfect paragon of beauty and morality—a small-town girl who had worked hard to get where she was. A woman who was unbelievably innocent. I put you in a box and I didn’t look any deeper. I know it sounds crazy, and contradictory, but by proposing to you and convincing myself it was for those shallow reasons, I was able to keep you with me while not admitting the depth of my emotions—the real reason I wanted to marry you. Because I loved you. You see, I told myself I’d never allow love to impact my life. I was so sure that I wouldn’t ever succumb to such an emotion that I arrogantly denied to myself that I felt anything deeper than liking and respect for you.’
Kat wasn’t sure she could speak now, even if she wanted to.
Zafir grimaced. ‘When those headlines surfaced and I confronted you... I didn’t really give you a chance to explain your side because on some cowardly level it was easier for me to break the engagement and tell you I didn’t love you than to admit how I really felt. How could I? When I wouldn’t even admit it to myself?’
Zafir stepped closer to Kat.
‘I love you, Kat. I know that now, and I always did... I was just too scared to admit it before. Seeing how Salim was so destroyed after Sara’s death, feeling that loss myself—it terrified me. I never wanted to love someone so much that it would send my life into a tailspin if something happened to them. And our parents hardly provided us with any kind of healthy example...’
He shook his head, his face paling.
‘But when I saw you on the ground last night, lying so still, I realised then that it would be far worse if I’d never told you how I felt than if I’d tried to protect myself from the pain. Even if you don’t love me.’
Kat couldn’t breathe. She felt as if she was hanging over a huge abyss by a thread. But as she looked at Zafir, into those slate-grey eyes, the light in them died and he took a step back.
Before she could reach out or say anything he said, ‘There’s something I’ve suspected for a while, but I’ve been too afraid to ask...’
‘What?’ she managed to croak out.
‘The accident...it happened that night, didn’t it? The night we fought.’
Kat felt the blood drain from her face, and Zafir’s own face paled even more. She’d never seen him look so stricken.
‘Kat...what did I do to you?’
He backed away even further, as if he couldn’t bear to be near her. Everything in her rebelled at that. He’d told her he loved her. She had to believe. To trust.
She closed the distance between them and took his hands in hers. They felt cold. ‘No,’ she said, and then more firmly, when she saw his eyes so bleak, ‘No, Zafir. You do not get to do this. What happened that night was no one’s fault. It could have just as easily been you. You don’t get to take responsibility for an accident.’
She clung onto his hands, willing him to come back to her.
‘I was an emotional coward too... As soon as I heard you say you didn’t love me I ran—because I wasn’t brave enough to fight for myself or for you.’
He shook his head, his face etched with pain. ‘I have no right to ask you to stay now. I’ve brought nothing but destruction into your life.’
He wouldn’t look at her, so Kat let one hand go and reached up to touch Zafir’s face, smoothing the lines, the tension in his jaw. She turned his face until their eyes met and she said, ‘Well, tough, because I’m not going anywhere—unless you didn’t mean any of what you said?’
Fire flashed in his eyes and Kat breathed a sigh of relief.
‘Of course I meant what I said.’
She took a deep breath. ‘I love you too, Zafir. What I felt for you before was immature... I couldn’t handle it. It was too much. I don’t think either of us were ready to deal with the enormity of how we felt. It killed me to think you’d only valued me for my physical attributes. I felt worthless. I felt like no one had ever really loved me for me—not even my mother.’
Zafir reached out and cupped Kat’s jaw. His eyes were suspiciously bright.
‘I love all of you, Kat—every bit. I love the little girl who was pushed out in front of cameras and lights at far too young an age. I love the young teenager who struggled to protect her mother and who did something radical to keep her mother alive because she had no other choice. I love the young woman who didn’t let her experiences make her bitter, but who clung on to something good in spite of being blackmailed by an arch manipulator... And I love the woman who overcame a massive life event to become even stronger and more proud. You have a huge life ahead of you, and you’re going to be an inspiration to so many people.’
Zafir got down on one knee in front of Kat and she stopped breathing. He pulled a black box out of his pocket and looked ridiculously nervous. He opened it to reveal a square-shaped Art Deco ring, with a red stone surrounded by white diamonds.
‘Is that...?’ She couldn’t even finish the question.
Zafir nodded, his eyes on her as he took the ring out of the box. ‘It’s part of the Heart of Jandor red diamond. My great-grandfather had it made for my great-grandmother out of an offcut of the original stone. It wasn’t her engagement ring, but she wore it every day. I wanted to give you a different ring, Kat. To symbolise a fresh start... That is...if you’ll have me?’
Kat’s chest had swelled so much that her eyes stung. She felt as if she might float away, but Zafir was anchoring her to the ground, waiting for her answer.
At the last moment old insecurities surfaced. ‘What if your mother is right, Zafir? I’m not cut out to be Queen... I’ll let you down...’
Zafir stood up, looking fierce. ‘You will make a great Queen, Kat. You’re compassionate and passionate. You’re intelligent and endlessly kind—and stronger than anyone else I know. Jasmine adores you and Rahul would die for you. When I saw you holding that falcon you humbled me with your innate grace. It was then that I knew I couldn’t let you go. And then I found out about my father and I knew I had no right to ask anything more of you. Do you want to know what Amira said to me at the hospital?’
Kat nodded, feeling overwhelmed at everything he was saying, each word soothing the wounds of her soul.
‘She said to me, “Your Queen is beautiful,” and she was right. You are beautiful—inside and out. My mother was born and bred to be Queen and she spread nothing but pain and misery... You are more of a Queen than she could ever be.’
Kat eventually held out her hand and said in a choked voice, ‘Then, yes, I’ll be your Queen. I love you, Zafir.’
He grew blurry in her vision as he put the ring on her finger, and then she was being lifted into his arms and taken over to the bed.
He laid her down and said fervently, ‘I need you, Kat, so much...’
She put her arms around him and arched into his body. ‘I’ll never walk away from you again,’ she said emotionally. ‘You’re my King and my home, Zafir.’
Six months later
Kat stood behind the curtain with Amira’s hand tightly clasped in hers. They looked at each other and Kat winked. Amira smiled widely. In the last few months the little girl had been transformed into her normal gregarious self again, with a new prosthetic leg.
A
woman stepped forward and whispered, ‘Your Majesty, whenever you’re ready...’
Kat wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to being called Your Majesty, but slowly, with each day, it was sinking in that she was a Queen.
She looked at Amira to make sure she was ready, and then took a breath, pushing the curtain aside and stepping forward.
Lights illuminated their path down the long catwalk. They were both dressed in the latest designs from Jandor’s best designers for Jahor’s inaugural fashion week, with all proceeds from the show going to the global amputee fund that Kat and Zafir had set up in recent months. The fund gave money to all aspects of limb loss, including research into prosthetic limbs.
Kat had been persuaded out of retirement by Julie, but was only agreeing to modelling work that didn’t conflict with her role as Queen of Jandor, and work that didn’t disguise her limb—and, again, all proceeds were going to charity. She was determined to make her face and her body work for the best causes this time, and she’d never felt more fulfilled or happier.
But then, her work wasn’t the most important thing in her life. Not by a long shot.
As they reached the end of the catwalk and Amira twirled around just as Kat had instructed her earlier, Kat caught Zafir’s eye where he was sitting in the front row. His grey gaze blazed into hers, and then it dropped explicitly to where the swell of her six-months-pregnant belly was visible under the kaftan she wore.
The baby kicked, and Kat couldn’t stop a huge grin breaking across her face as her eyes met Zafir’s again. And then she turned and walked serenely back down the catwalk with the little girl.
* * *
The following morning the headline on the front page of the Jahor Times simply said The Look of Love. And below it was a picture of Kat and Zafir gazing at each other, with her hand protectively cradling the swell of her belly.
Zafir threw down the newspaper and turned to face Kat, where she lay in bed. He splayed a big hand possessively over her naked pregnant belly and Kat rolled her eyes when the baby kicked.
She grumbled good-naturedly, ‘It’s already two against one...’
Zafir pulled Kat close and smoothed his hand down her body until he found her left thigh. He lifted it up so that the centre of his body came into contact with the centre of hers. She gasped when she felt him, hard and ready.
‘No, my love...’ he said huskily. ‘It’ll never be two against one. It’s going to be three against the world...’ He bent his head and kissed her before lifting his mouth for a second to say, ‘And then four...’ Another kiss. ‘And then five...’
Kat huffed out a chuckle that turned into a moan of pleasure as Zafir angled his body against hers in a very intimate way. She gripped his shoulders and bit her lip, and whispered as he filled her with a smooth thrust, ‘I love you, Zafir...’
He kissed her again. ‘And I love you...for ever.’
* * * * *
EXCLUSIVE EXTRACT
Reluctant Sheikh Salim Al-Noury would rather abdicate than taint the realm with his dark secrets.
But could one exquisitely beautiful diplomat convince him otherwise?…
Christmas means heartbreak to Charlotte, and this overseas assignment offers the perfect getaway. But Salim proves to be her most challenging client yet, and his rugged masculinity awakens untouched Charlotte to unimaginable pleasures!
Read on for a sneak preview of Abby Green’s book
A CHRISTMAS BRIDE FOR THE KING
Rulers of the Desert
She looked Salim straight in the eye. ‘Life is so easy for you, isn’t it? No wonder you don’t want to rule—it would put a serious cramp in your lifestyle and a dent in your empire. Have you ever had to think of anyone but yourself, Salim? Have you ever had to consider the consequences of your actions? People like you make me—’
‘Enough.’ Salim punctuated the harshly spoken word by taking her arms in his hands. He said it again. ‘Enough, Charlotte. You’ve made your point.’
She couldn’t breathe after the way he’d just said her name. Roughly. His hands were huge on her arms, and firm but not painful. She knew she should say Let me go but somehow the words wouldn’t form in her mouth.
Salim’s eyes were blazing down into hers and for a second she had the impression that she’d somehow…hurt him. But in the next instant any coherent thought fled, because he slammed his mouth down onto hers and all she was aware of was shocking heat, strength, and a surge of need such as she’d never experienced before.
Salim couldn’t recall when he’d felt angrier—people had thrown all sorts of insults at him for years. Women who’d expected more than he’d been prepared to give. Business adversaries he’d bested. His brother. His parents. But for some reason this buttoned-up slender woman with her cool judgmental attitude was getting to him like no one else ever had.
The urge to kiss her had been born out of that anger and a need to stop her words, but also because he’d felt a hot throb of desire that had eluded him for so long he’d almost forgotten what it felt like.
Her mouth was soft and pliant under his, but on some dim level not clouded red with lust and anger he knew it was shock—and, sure enough, after a couple of seconds he felt her tense and her mouth tighten against his.
He knew he should draw back. dpg
If he was another man he might try to convince himself he’d only intended the kiss to be a display of power, but Salim had never drawn back from admitting his full failings. And he couldn’t pull back—not if a thousand horses were tied to his body. Because he wanted her.
Don’t miss
A CHRISTMAS BRIDE FOR THE KING
By Abby Green
Available December 2017
www.millsandboon.co.uk
Copyright ©2017 Abby Green
ISBN: 978-1-474-05305-1
A DIAMOND FOR THE SHEIKH’S MISTRESS
© 2017 Abby Green
Published in Great Britain 2017
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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