“Wrong!? You?!”
Aki turned only his head, to regard his friend. “Don’t bait me, Ryan. Not in the mood I am in.”
“Sorry,” he said with a shake of his head. “It’s just that I don’t see why you’re having problems with Ellie. She seems pretty easy to get on with to me.”
Something completely foreign lodged in Aki’s chest. “Ellie?” He asked in disbelief.
Ryan shifted his weight on his feet. “It’s what she asked me to call her.”
“You are referring to my wife, Her Royal Highness the Emira of Talina, Eleanor Katabi as Ellie?”
Despite having lived in the Kingdom of Talina for almost two decades, Ryan still struggled with the strict formalities at times. “You’re my best friend. She’s your wife. I’ll call her whatever the heck she wants me to.”
The strange feeling intensified. “When? When did she ask you to address her so informally?”
“Earlier today. We took a walk through the orchard.”
A furious rage emanated through Aki’s body, but he didn’t betray it. He stalked out of Ryan’s office without another word, and walked with haste through the palace. She was not in her room. Nor was she in the library.
Where the hell was she?
With each step he took, his frustration only grew.
By the time he discovered her, reading a book of Talinese nursery stories in the shade of a fig tree, his anger was an actual force accompanying him, by his side. She looked up as he approached, her expression carefully neutral.
“You are my wife.” He ground out, standing with his hands on his hips so that she was cast into shadow.
“Yes?” She gently placed a slip of paper into the book and closed the covers.
“My wife.”
She frowned. “I don’t quite understand what you’re trying to tell me. I was there, remember? We stood up in front of a heap of people, said some words, signed a piece of paper.”
His expression was glowering. “Do not mock me, azeezi. Do not dare mock me.”
She stood to her feet with fluid grace. “How can I mock you when I don’t know what you’re talking about?”
“You have no business walking in the orchard with other men. What do you think the staff would make of it? You are my wife.”
“Oh, Jeez.” She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. “This is about Ryan? Are you kidding me?”
“I am certainly not kidding.”
“He bumped into me and stopped me from eating some kind of beautiful poisonous fruit. We walked for about ten minutes. It was civil and nice.”
“It was inappropriate.”
She glared at him, but her anger was being eaten away by sadness. “You don’t want to spend time with me, but you also don’t want me to spend time with anyone else?”
His eyes were dark. “Not with other men, not on your own. No. I have cousins you can spend time with.”
“I didn’t have you marked as such a control freak.” She leaned forward, her face inching towards his. “Are you actually jealous?”
“Not jealous, no,” he denied too quickly to have given it any thought. “It is just irresponsible. It exposed both you and me to idle gossip.”
“Do you really care?” She asked seriously.
“I care about you, and your reputation.” He scanned her face. “You cannot be alone with Ryan again.”
“Don’t be absurd,” she said crossly. “You can’t tell me who I can and can’t spend time with.”
“Can’t I?” His smile was grim. “You are perhaps not familiar with the customs of our country.”
She was shaking, and she couldn’t have said if it was from rage, fear, anger or a mix of all three. “He was just being kind to me.”
Aki didn’t say what he was thinking. That Ryan had no business being kind to her. That it was he, Aki, who should comfort her if she was distressed. “You are my wife,” he said instead.
She rolled her eyes in a gesture he found infuriating. “You’re like a record stuck on repeat. Yes. I am your wife. A person. Not a thing. I am not something that you own.”
“You are to be loyal to me.”
She laughed, though she was not amused. “What the heck is going on? This can’t all be about a few minutes talking with Ryan?”
“No. It is about your father. And Arnaud. And now Ryan. Men you are loyal to, and demonstrate more willingness to be civil to, than you do your own husband.”
“Seriously? You want to bring my father into this? As though I shouldn’t be loyal to him?”
“You forget that I was raised to despise your father,” he said darkly. “I was taught from birth that he desired nothing more than my downfall. So yes, your obvious adoration of him is somewhat galling to me.”
“Well, you’re going to have to get over it, because you’re wrong.” She glared up at his face, her expression mutinous. “Where are you getting your information? Papa never wanted the throne. I don’t know why your grandfather was so afraid of him. Not once did my father attempt to insinuate himself into palace life.” She shook her head in frustration. “And if you knew him, you would see that he is a great man. Far more worthy of my respect and loyalty than … anyone else.” She had gone too far. He was already furious, but her statement had doused his rage with petrol.
Visibly, she saw him attempt to pull his temper back in, but still, his eyes glowed with fury.
“And might I remind you,” she said, screwing up her courage as she pushed a finger against his chest, “you married me. You married me because of my papa. If you thought it was going to be so difficult to get over my heritage, then you should never have gone through with this.”
His anger now was a cold fury. “I had no choice. Believe me, if there had been any other way, I would have taken it.”
And though she knew it to be true, it still hurt like hell to have the truth thrown in her face. “Don’t you think I know that?” Her eyes glinted in her face. “You think Arnaud is the reason I’m plagued with self-doubt? You should try realising you’re married to a man who hates you with every fiber of his being.”
He froze, right as he was about to unleash another fierce statement her way. “You think I hate you?” He demanded with a cold quietness.
Over his shoulder, a servant appeared, his face flushed. In his hand, he held a tray, and on top of it, one of the satellite phones Aki’s security agents carried everywhere.
“Saved by the bell,” Eleanor muttered, nodding towards the servant.
Aki was clearly annoyed at the interruption. “What is it?”
He spoke in Talinese, his voice quiet and filled with hesitation. When Aki turned to Eleanor, he looked withdrawn.
“It is for you. Your beloved papa.” His tone was scornful, and while Eleanor judged him for it, she also wished her father had chosen any other time to call. Their conversation was complicated enough, without adding another dimension to it.
She lifted the handset and turned her back to Aki. “Dad, any chance I can call you right back?”
“Ellie, it’s your sister.”
Immediately, Eleanor felt as thought ice water had been poured down her body. “What? What is it? Tell me.”
She reached out to the nearest tree for support but instead connected with the warm strength of Aki’s arm. She grabbed it and held on for dear life.
Nasir’s voice was coarse with sadness. “There was an accident.”
Eleanor squeezed her eyes shut. “No, there wasn’t.”
“An accident,” he insisted, though they both knew what was unspoken between them. The chance that Michelle had been in an accident was slim, compared to the likelihood that Jak had somehow injured her.
“What happened? How is she?”
And here, Nasir’s voice seemed to crack. “In hospital. Concussion. Cracked ribs.”
Eleanor felt a wave of something wash over her. Nausea, uncertainty, heartache. She turned to Aki on instinct, and somehow, the desperation of her soul must have conveyed its
elf to him, for he reached out and put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her tight to his chest.
“What has happened?” He asked quietly, his words in her ear.
But Eleanor couldn’t speak. She simply lifted the phone, passing it to him with a muted sob.
She only heard his end of the conversation. “Which hospital? And for how long? I see. Yes. We will come immediately.”
He disconnected the phone and dropped it to the ground, so that he could put both his arms around his wife and pass all his strength to her. “Do not be sad, Eleanor. We will go to her immediately.”
She sobbed against his chest, her body wracked with grief. For even when they arrived, what could be done? Michelle ending up in hospital was simply the inevitability of the decision she’d made, many years earlier, to marry a man like Jak.
Eleanor straightened. “You don’t have to come with me,” she said quietly.
“But if I let you go, you might never come back.” She wasn’t sure if he was joking, but she forced herself to pull away from him, and look into his face.
“I married you, Aki, and I’m not the kind of woman to back away just because things are tough.” She squared her shoulders. “But I need to go to her. And as soon as possible. So come, if you’d like, or stay, but please, help me get home.”
Why did it rankle so much that she referred to her sister, and America, as home? He couldn’t have said. But less than an hour later, as they took to the skies of Talina, he had time to examine his feelings. And what he was left with was an even greater uncertainty. He’d married Eleanor and brought certain expectations to the situation. She had defied each and every one.
Now? What did he have? Only confusion.
He looked at his innocent, virginal wife, and felt something roll in his gut. She was staring out of the window, inching her foot back and forth at a frenetic pace. Her eyes were furtive, her hands clasped so tightly in her lap that her knuckles glowed white. Her long brown hair was pulled into a loose ponytail, and it fell over one of her shoulders. His fingers itched to reach out and touch it.
“Azeezi, what happened with your sister?” At times, his accent was more pronounced than others. Now, it was at its thickest.
Eleanor lifted her feet up and squeezed them under herself. She was short enough to sit like an eight year old, and she did so at that moment. “Jak is what happened to her.”
“Her husband?”
Eleanor nodded. “He’s an abusive son of a bitch.” She fixed him with an earnest stare. “We all loved him at first, but once you get to know him, he’s a nightmare.”
“You mean he beats her?” He demanded, leaning forward in his chair. Instinctively, his hand reached out and grabbed for hers, to demand her full attention.
“I don’t know.” Eleanor’s voice was rich with pain. “The nature of their relationship is hard to describe. I guess you could call it secretive. She is very afraid of him, I know that much for certain. He is bad for her. But I don’t believe he’s ever been violent.” She bit down on her lower lip, looking out at the skyline without seeing. “But Michelle has been more and more worried of late. More distant, even to me.” She squeezed her eyes closed and ran a finger over his hand. “At… at our wedding… the hairstylist had to arrange her braid over a bald patch in her head. I think she worries at her hair when she’s stressed, and she’s pulled a lot loose.”
Aki was quiet, though his heart was exploding. Since meeting Eleanor, he’d discovered a whole host of emotions that he hadn’t known he was capable of possessing.
“And your parents?”
She was sensitive to the note of condemnation in his voice. She lifted her sad gaze to his. “They aren’t happy about the situation, but there is not a lot they can do.”
A muscle flecked in the side of his jaw, and she could tell he was keeping an opinion to himself purely because it would be upsetting to her. His quiet judgement hurt. She shook her head from side to side. “You wouldn’t understand.” Her lips lifted in a weak smile. “You were born to rule. And had you not been Sultan, you would have been running another kind of empire. The skills you possess don’t come naturally to most. Nor does the self-assuredness to employ those skills.”
He frowned. “Well, why did you not tell me any of this sooner? So that I might have employed those skills on your behalf?”
It surprised her, and it was obvious on her face. “I… didn’t think you would care.”
Aki unclasped his seatbelt and crossed the carpeted floor, to take up a position in the seat beside Eleanor. His jet was essentially a luxurious hotel suite with wings. Lounges, a polished dining table with ten chairs surrounding it, a chandelier, an enormous screen loaded with the latest movies. But when he sat beside her, it was limited to the size of them. Their chairs.
He put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. Gently, he placed a kiss on her chest. “You are my wife. My family. So your sister is, too. Of course I care.”
Her breath hitched in her throat. “Don’t.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Please, don’t.”
“Why do you need to argue with me, always?” He asked heavily.
She forced herself to look at him. “I heard you. On the night of our wedding. I know what you think of me; how you view our marriage. And my family.”
His face was blank.
“Talking to Ryan in your study.” She sat back in her chair, putting some vital distance between them. “I didn’t mean to. I was going in to the dressing room for a moment of peace, but I heard you.”
He nodded, remembering his dark mood on that night. “And what did you hear, exactly?”
She bit down on her lip, and replied falteringly, “I heard you say that you wouldn’t have married me if you’d had a choice. That Talina deserved better than to have a… a… weak minded fool as its Queen. That you resented the necessity of marrying me, of all people.” She looked away. “That making love to someone as bland as me would be boring.” Her voice was a husked whisper. “That it would be… arduous.”
He said a word in his native tongue, but she gathered from the inflection that it was a curse. “Eleanor, look at me.”
When she didn’t, he reached out and put a finger beneath her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his. The hurt he saw there made his stomach contract painfully. “It was very wrong of me to speak that way about you. You are my wife, and from the moment we became married, you deserved my respect.”
If possible, it made her feel even worse. He was not apologising for the sentiments, only the fact that he’d expressed them.
She nodded, but the chasm of pain in her chest was increasing.
“And I think we both know that making love to you would be anything but arduous. Anything but bland or boring.” It was an attempt at humour, but it fell flat. He kissed her on her forehead and kept an arm around her shoulders. “Try and rest, azeezi. It is a long flight and you will need your strength once we arrive.”
CHAPTER SIX
The Manhattan residence of the Emir of Talina was just as grandiose as Eleanor might have expected, had she given the matter any thought at all. Only he had always come to their home, when he’d been arranging the wedding. It hadn’t occurred to her to wonder where he went, when he left. The penthouse spanned three stories at the top of a glassy Lenox Hill monolith. The Upper East Side had never held much appeal for Eleanor, but as she took in the twinkling lights of the city from the floor to ceiling windows, she thought it would be foolish not to reconsider that position.
She yawned and stretched her arms above her head in a feline pose. “You are still on Talinese time,” Aki drawled, causing Eleanor to startle.
“I didn’t know you were there.”
“No,” he nodded, moving further into the room. “You were in your own world.”
She nodded, toying with the necklace she always wore. “I was enjoying the view.”
“So was I,” he remarked smoothly, his voice like a warm massage on her skin. “You know, I think you
are incredibly beautiful.”
She shook her head, his compliment making her uneasy. “It’s just the two of us,” she said with an attempt at a smile. “No need to pretend for the moment.”
He scanned her face and then nodded. “I have spoken with the hospital. Your sister is ready to have guests.”
“Oh, thank you.” She lifted her eyes to his face. “Did they say how she is?”
“Sore. Weak. Tired. But otherwise she will be fine.” The desire to comfort his wife was strong. Only he had no idea how welcome that act would be. He settled for a sympathetic grimace. “I’ve ordered the limousine. It will be waiting downstairs when we are ready.”
“Oh.” She flushed apologetically. “I think it would be better if I went on my own.”
She could see that Aki was offended. That he disagreed. “And why is this?” He finally asked, his tone cool.
“You don’t know Michelle. She’s very proud and very loyal. She loved Jak fiercely, at one time. If he’s hurt her, she won’t find it easy to admit. And she would feel especially traitorous to tell you. I think I’m the only person she’ll confide in.”
“I see.” It made perfect sense, so why was he railing against it? “I will accompany you, and wait outside.”
“No,” she shook her head, her eyes almost as heavy as her heart. “That would be a waste of your time, and I feel that I’ve already inconvenienced you enough.”
The way they spoke to each other, as strangers, filled him with a sense of annoyance. “I will be coming. Do not argue, as it is just a waste of your efforts. Can you not see that what I’ve suggested is already a compromise for me?”
She opened her mouth to do precisely that, but one look at the determined set of his handsome features made her nod acceptingly. “Fine.”
“Excellent. Please let me know when you are ready, and we will depart.”
“I’m ready now.” She locked her shoulders in a determined posture of strength, but inside she was quaking. The uncertainty of what she would find, when she saw Michelle, was unfurling in her stomach like a big, messy ball of anxiety.
Aki nodded and put a hand in the small of her back. It both amazed and frustrated Eleanor that even then, in the midst of such distress, she could feel a fierce force of need for her husband.
The Sultan's Virgin Bride: A story of lust, loyalty and passionate resentment. Page 7
