by Kate Hewitt
Zayed felt a chill spread through his body. ‘Do you know something I do not, Princess Halina?’
‘No, only that I have never trusted my father wholly. He isn’t a cruel man, but his own reputation and comfort comes above everyone else’s.’
‘I suppose it is a risk I am willing to take.’
‘And what of Olivia?’
Zayed tensed. ‘What of her?’
Halina cocked her head, her soft brown gaze moving over him slowly. ‘Does she not matter at all?’
Zayed said nothing, although everything in him wanted to protest. Shout.
She matters. Of course she matters.
‘We are not here to discuss Olivia,’ he answered, his tone repressive.
‘No,’ Halina said slowly. ‘We are not.’ She was still gazing at him, her expression hard and assessing. ‘We are here to discuss our possible marriage.’
‘Yes.’
‘And the truth is, Prince Zayed, I cannot marry you. I will not.’
Zayed stared at her in shock. ‘What?’
‘I’m not going to marry you,’ Halina stated again, shrugging. ‘I’m sorry if it is a disappointment.’
‘Your father...’
‘My father wants me to marry you. He wants to tidy away my mistake. But he cannot force me.’ She lifted her chin. ‘No matter what.’
Zayed paused for a moment, aware of what a risk she was taking. Hassan would be furious; he would likely send her away to a remote palace in the desert, never to be seen in society again. He felt a reluctant admiration for the Princess, and underneath another emotion, damning in its intensity. He felt relief.
He didn’t want to marry Halina. Whether she was pregnant or not, whether she was willing or not, he didn’t want her. He wanted Olivia.
‘May I ask why you have come to this decision?’ Zayed asked.
‘Yes, it is quite simple.’ Halina’s gaze met his with an unspoken challenge. ‘I will not marry a man who is in love with someone else.’
Zayed was too shocked to hide his reaction. In love...? ‘I don’t...’ he began, and then stopped. He couldn’t deny it. He’d been trying to for days, cutting himself off from Olivia and all that she meant to him because it was necessary for his country. For his rule.
Now Halina tilted her head and gave him a mocking look. ‘I’m glad you didn’t bother denying it. That does you credit.’
Her audacity surprised and somewhat amused him. ‘What I feel for Olivia has nothing to do with our potential alliance.’
‘I’m afraid it does. Because, like I said, I don’t wish to marry a man who is in love with someone else, especially when I am pregnant with another man’s child.’
‘Do you love him?’ Zayed asked. He felt nothing either way for Halina and her child—no jealousy, no anger, no interest.
‘No,’ she answered after a pause. ‘But with my child and your love of Olivia our marriage would be both a battle and a breeding ground for resentment.’
‘It wouldn’t have to be,’ Zayed said, but even he sounded unconvinced. The picture Halina was painting was bleak. But what choice did he have?
‘Do you know what I think?’ Halina said, and Zayed wasn’t sure he wanted to know. ‘I think you’re using your sense of duty as a big, fat excuse.’
‘What?’ The breath whooshed out of Zayed’s lungs as he stared at her in mounting fury. ‘My father and brother died in the war against Malouf. They were assassinated. I watched them die. For the last ten years—’ He broke off, struggling with the tidal wave of emotion he felt. ‘For the last ten years,’ he resumed, ‘I have dedicated my life, everything I have, to serving their country and protecting their memory.’
Halina’s face softened. ‘Prince Zayed, I’m not trying to diminish what happened to your family, or what you’ve done for them. Of course I’m not. You have suffered and worked tremendously for the good of your country, of your people.’
Zayed nodded, his jaw tight, pain flickering at his temples.
‘What I’m saying,’ Halina continued steadily, refusing to be cowed, ‘is that I believe you are using your sense of duty as a way to get out of being with Olivia.’
‘Why,’ Zayed demanded, ‘would I do that?’
‘Because you’re scared.’
He stiffened in outrage. He had never been called a coward in his life before this slip of a woman had dared to do so—and over what? ‘Scared? Of what?’
‘Of love. Of risking everything for another person. Of fighting for another person, and not just a cause. Of putting yourself out there, of getting hurt.’ The smile she gave him was whimsical and a little sad. ‘Take your pick.’
Zayed was unable to speak...to think...because in that devastating moment he knew she was right. He was scared. He’d lost people he’d loved so he’d never wanted to love again. Seeing Olivia after the snake had bitten her had been utterly terrifying, and he’d done his best to distance himself from her both physically and emotionally—for his own sake. Because he was scared. Because he was a coward.
‘Princess Halina, I still need your father’s support.’
‘I have to believe that there are other ways of getting it, or other countries who can come to your aid. Don’t make that your reason, Prince Zayed, not when it is merely an excuse.’
‘Plenty of rulers have chosen to marry out of duty,’ Zayed snapped.
Halina smiled. ‘Then don’t be one of them.’
‘And what about you? What will you do?’
Halina shrugged, not meeting his gaze. ‘I am not your concern, Prince Zayed. Olivia is.’
* * *
Zayed’s mind was in a ferment all afternoon as he paced his room at the palace, his thoughts going round in an endless, useless loop. He loved Olivia. He was afraid to love her. Afraid, too, to follow his own heart. What if it left his country in an even worse place, his people even more oppressed? Could he possibly be so selfish?
He stood at the window and watched the sun set over the desert, turning sand and sky to blazing gold. He had a sudden, piercing memory of Olivia in the desert, tending to the tribespeople, showing love and gentleness to all she encountered.
She would make a wonderful queen. She was his wife and his people had already accepted her. Why had he not been able to see that before in all its breath-taking clarity? He’d been so consumed with the alliance with Hassan, but in a sudden second of absolute certainty he realised that he should never have counted on that at all. He needed to win his people over, his country over, not depend on someone’s support from the outside. Just as he needed to win Olivia.
He turned from the room, determined, desperate to see her. To tell her all that was in his heart and mind. He found his way to the staff quarters where she normally slept, saw the small, spartan chamber she’d called her own and felt his heart rend all over again. She’d had so little here, yet she’d been so grateful. And she’d asked for nothing from him...but his love.
He spun away from the room and hurried downstairs, needing to find her. ‘Where is Olivia?’ he asked the first member of the palace staff he came across, a startled-looking man in royal livery. ‘Where is Miss Taylor?’
‘Miss Taylor?’ The man shook his head. ‘She is gone. She took a car to the airport an hour ago.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Three months later
PARIS WAS BEAUTIFUL in the autumn. From her apartment on the Ile de la Cité, Olivia could see the winding green of the river, the leaves of the trees alongside now starting to turn red and gold.
She’d been in Paris for three months, having left her heart back in Abkar with Zayed, but she was doing her best to live her life without it. Without him.
Upon arriving she’d stayed with her godmother, who had been surprisingly glad to see her. Olivia had been grateful to renew the acquaintance, and her godmother had also provided a useful contact to enable her to get a job in translation for a large corporation. Within a few weeks Olivia had both a job and an apartment and was cultivatin
g a small group of friends from work. This was the life she had dreamed of, yet it felt so terribly empty.
She had heard nothing from Zayed, no word of an annulment or divorce, even, so bizarrely they were still married. She’d avoided tabloids and gossip magazines, not wanting to read of his resumed betrothal to Halina, and when her friend had contacted her on social media Olivia had guiltily ignored her. She wasn’t ready yet. Everything still felt raw and fragile. But she would get there. The last few months, first with Zayed and now in Paris, had showed her how strong she was, and she depended on that strength now. A broken heart could mend. A shattered life could be rebuilt.
She had heard news of Kalidar; it was impossible to ignore when it made the headlines. The military had staged a coup and asked Zayed to return as their leader. Apparently, they had been growing tired of Malouf’s ill treatment. Bloody skirmishes had followed, with Malouf making a desperate last stand, but a week ago Zayed had ridden into the capital city of Arjah, triumphant and regal. He’d had Malouf imprisoned and tried for war crimes as well as the murder of his family. In a few weeks he was finally going to be crowned King of Kalidar. dpg!
Olivia was happy for him. He’d finally achieved all he’d been striving for for so long. All he deserved. She wondered if his marriage to Halina would go ahead, but she knew it didn’t matter anyway. Zayed hadn’t loved her. Hadn’t chosen her. Whether he married Halina or not was irrelevant.
And she needed to get on with her life. With a weary sigh Olivia reached for her bag and slung it over her shoulder. She enjoyed the translation work she did, but she couldn’t see herself doing it for ever. The future yawned ahead of her, as bleak and endless as the desert sands.
She needed to stop thinking like that. And to stop thinking about the desert, or Kalidar, or anything to do with Zayed. Anything could trigger memories of their time together—a hard blue sky, the taste of anise, the whisper of silk. All of it brought the days and nights she’d spent with him, falling in love with him, rushing back.
Olivia walked down the four narrow flights of stairs to the street, opening the front door of her building to a crisp autumn day...and Zayed.
She stared at him in disbelief, blinking several times as if she thought he might vanish, a desert mirage right here in the middle of Paris.
‘Hello, Olivia.’
Still she stared. He wore a navy-blue business suit, his dark hair brushed back from his bronzed face, his grey-green eyes sparkling as he gave her a smile that was both wry and tender.
‘What...?’ Her voice was hoarse. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Looking for you.’
The frail hope that had been unfurling inside her withered before it had had the barest chance to bloom. ‘You want a divorce,’ she said woodenly. After all this time, it shouldn’t hurt, but even now it felt as if he were plunging a careless fist into her chest and yanking her heart out. Her last tie to him would be cleanly severed.
‘A divorce?’ Zayed shook his head. ‘No, Olivia, I don’t want a divorce.’
‘But Princess Halina...?’
‘Have you not heard from her?’
Olivia bit her lip and shook her head. ‘I haven’t.’
‘And nor have I. Princess Halina refused to marry me, back when we were both in Abkar.’
‘Refused,’ Olivia repeated. Her mind was whirling. ‘That must have been disappointing.’ Had he come to her as second best? Once she would have accepted being the runner up, a last resort. She would have been grateful. But Zayed, funnily enough, had shown her that she was worth more. That she deserved more. Too bad he hadn’t realised it.
‘It was surprising,’ Zayed allowed. ‘But not disappointing. What I felt most of all, habibi, was relief. Because the only woman I want to be married to is my wife.’
Olivia registered the term distantly. She still couldn’t believe what he was saying, what he was implying.
‘It’s been three months, Zayed, and I haven’t heard a word from you.’
‘I know.’ He took a measured breath. ‘A few days after I last saw you, Malouf’s military staged a coup. There was bloodshed and violence; I could not leave my country.’
‘I know that. I read about it in the news. But since then...not even a message...?’ She shook her head, hating that it had come to this, that part of her, even now, wanted to accept whatever he was offering. How little he was offering.
‘I had to find you first,’ Zayed replied steadily. ‘And, the truth is, I wanted to give you some time.’
‘Time?’
‘To consider what you really want. I know, Olivia, that you’ve never really lived on your own. You never had a chance to discover what you were truly capable of. I wanted to give you that chance, as well as some emotional distance from what we experienced. So we could both discover if what we felt was real and lasting.’
‘What we felt.’ Olivia hitched her bag higher on her shoulder, afraid to hope. ‘What is it you feel, Zayed?’
There was no hesitation in his voice as he answered. ‘I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time now. The seeds were planted that first night.’
Why was she so afraid to believe? ‘But you left me,’ Olivia whispered. ‘When I was so ill...’
‘That’s when I realised I loved you. I was terrified, Olivia, of losing you. Terrified, selfishly, for myself and the pain I would feel. That’s why I started to keep my distance, because I was a coward.’ He shook his head, his features pinched with regret. ‘But I realised—and Princess Halina helped me—that I didn’t want to be that kind of coward. Loving you has brought out the best in me, and I want to be the kind of man who loves. Who isn’t afraid to love. And I love you, quite desperately. Very deeply. But...’ His gaze was steady on her, a shadow of vulnerability in his mossy eyes. ‘The question is, do you love me? Will you remain as my wife, Olivia, and as my Queen?’
Olivia took a deep breath, trying to sift through all her emotions. She drew another breath and her face crumpled.
‘Olivia!’ Zayed exclaimed, her name torn from his lips, then she was in his arms, her face buried in his shoulder, his hands stroking her hair. ‘Habibi, I’m so sorry for hurting you. I wanted to give you your freedom, but perhaps I should have come sooner.’
‘No.’ Olivia took several gulping breaths before she felt able to continue. ‘No, it’s just...I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. And I love you so much, Zayed. It felt as if it was tearing me apart.’
‘I know how that feels, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. But we are together now, Olivia, and I promise you, I swear on my life, I will never hurt you. That is my solemn vow.’
Olivia let out a little gurgle of tearful laughter as she eased away from him. ‘Do you know, that was the first thing you said to me when you came through the window? That you wouldn’t hurt me, and it was your solemn vow.’
‘And I’m sorry for the times I did hurt you,’ Zayed said seriously. ‘Emotionally.’
‘Oh, Zayed...’
‘I meant it then and I mean it even more now,’ Zayed told her. ‘I love you with my life, Olivia, my soul. I want you by my side, in my bed, hand in hand through everything.’
‘I want that too,’ Olivia whispered, her eyes shining with tears of pure happiness. ‘So much.’
A smile of both relief and joy split Zayed’s face and he drew her towards him for a deep and lingering kiss.
‘Then I am the happiest man on earth right now.’
‘And I,’ Olivia answered, kissing him back, ‘am the happiest woman.’
Three months later
Bells rang throughout the capital city of Arjah in celebration of the wedding of Kalidar’s new King and Queen. Zayed listened to the joyful peals and felt happiness swell in his heart. He could not ask for more from his people, from his country, from his wife.
He turned to Olivia, dressed in a white lace dress and veil, her dark hair pulled back in a low chignon. She looked radiant, her eyes sparkling with happiness, her mouth curved
with laughter.
‘At least I understood that ceremony,’ she teased as she came towards him.
Zayed grinned back at her. ‘It was only a blessing, rather than a proper marriage. We can’t be married twice.’
‘Once is enough for me.’ She took his hand and laid her head against his shoulder. ‘I couldn’t ask for more.’
‘I was thinking the same thing.’
The last three months of peace and prosperity in Kalidar had brought Zayed immense satisfaction. Leaders around the world had offered their support, and he’d slowly but surely set about righting ten years of wrongs, building up his city and his people. His father, his family, would have been proud, he hoped. He felt a peace deep inside him that had been absent this long decade; their memories had been honoured, their deaths avenged.
Below them, in the courtyard in front of the palace, a cry rose up.
‘I think they want us to go out on the balcony,’ Olivia said with a smile.
‘Then so we must.’ Drawing her by the hand, Zayed stepped out onto the balcony with his bride. The cheers were deafening as the people filling the square called out their approval. Zayed glanced at Olivia and saw the love that suffused her face, felt its answer in himself. No, he could not ask for more. He had absolutely everything he wanted in the woman by his side.
Zayed and Olivia waved at the crowd, both of them smiling, their hearts full of happiness as they gazed out at their shining city.
* * * * *
Coming next month
KIDNAPPED FOR HIS ROYAL DUTY
Jane Porter
Before they came to Jolie, Dal would have described Poppy as pretty, in a fresh, wholesome, no-nonsense sort of way with her thick, shoulder-length brown hair and large, brown eyes and a serious little chin.
But as Poppy entered the dining room with its glossy white ceiling and dark purple walls, she looked anything but wholesome and no-nonsense.
She was wearing a silk gown the color of cherries, delicately embroidered with silver threads, and instead of her usual ponytail or chignon, her dark hair was down, and long, elegant chandelier earrings dangled from her ears. As she walked, the semi-sheer kaftan molded to her curves.
