It was hot. Unbearably hot. Most nights, the dessert winds blew a cool change through the palace, but it was still and sticky even at this late hour.
She stopped walking midway along the upstairs corridor that led to her bedroom.
“Farouk,” she said, turning to her security escort. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to go for a swim. Please see me to the pool and then leave me.”
“Ma’am, I will wait outside the pool for you.”
“No, Farouk. There are enough of the Emir’s guards in the royal quarters. Please go home to your wife and children and pass me over to one of them.” She smiled at him kindly, but firmly. “I insist.”
“Very well, ma’am.”
She had given up trying to coax any one of her security detail to call her by her first name.
Once in the private sanctuary of the Emir’s royal pool, she slipped her leotard and tights off so that she was naked and dove straight into the water. The water was blissfully cool against her skin, and although her body was tired from dancing, she forced herself to pull through the water, kicking gracefully to execute a perfect freestyle lap.
She flipped at the wall and went back in the direction she’d come, but as she reached a hand out for the pool coping, her fingers brushed against something smooth and warm. She jumped in the water, her heart beating with tension, but it was only Tariq.
Only Tariq.
She gulped. His face was watchful, his eyes guarded.
“Sheikha,” he said quietly, his honey eyes scanning her face. “I missed you tonight.”
She bit down on her lip. It had been silly to avoid him. There were a thousand better ways to make her point. And one very simple one. She should have talked to him about how she felt. But whenever she tried to put her feelings into sentences, she developed a clogged brain.
“I was dancing,” she said simply.
“Yes. I made inquiries. Swan Lake, I was told.”
She raised her eyebrows. “I really am under surveillance, aren’t I?”
He shook his head. “I take it the ever-present security guard is wearing thin?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” She pushed a hand through her wet hair, and the action revealed her naked breasts. His eyes fell to the exposed curves and his lip pulled into a small smile of approval.
“If only you knew how I fantasised about this.” He said throatily, pulling her towards him. She realised, with a start, that he was also naked beneath the water.
“Have you?” She whispered, feeling her body turn to putty as his already erect penis nudged between her legs.
“Oh, yes,” he said, and she knew she wasn’t imagining a hardness to his voice. He guided her towards the steps and, when her bottom connected with the lowest step, he pushed into her, watching as her face flooded with relief.
It wasn’t planned.
All night, whilst he’d entertained some of the most boring business people he had ever had the displeasure of meeting, he had stared at her empty chair, brooding over why her unexpected absence angered him so. She was free to do what she wanted, of course, but over the last week, he had become used to her. She was helping him with some of his obligations by day, and by night, whenever they were alone, they were together. Far from their need showing any signs of abating, he couldn’t get a moment without her being in his mind, tormenting him.
But the last two days he’d sensed a wariness about her, and he had meant to ask her about it tonight. To romance her. Not seduce her. But damn it, seeing her swimming naked in his pool, it was impossible to resist.
He plunged into her again, thrilling as she cried out in pleasure, dragged her nails down his back. Her long, slender legs wrapped around his chest, and she exploded quickly, her body wracked with pleasure as she felt the burning release take over. He chased after her, holding her close as he spilled into her, and with his body, he tried to say all of the things that he couldn’t put into words. Tried to ask her all the questions he needed answered.
* * *
“Listen, Rick, she’s obviously mad about you. I don’t get what’s got you hung up?”
Tariq sighed heavily as Eric swung back on the expensive leather office chair, looking out at the view of bustling Fattid. “You wouldn’t. Everything’s black and white for you. I know Rebecca better now than I did when first we married. But I still don’t know her at all.” He sighed again. “She is so distant with me. She keeps so much hidden. I’m not a fool. I know the only reason a woman from her culture would marry a man she’s never met is for the money.”
Eric rolled his eyes. “You’ve never doubted your ability to attract women before, Rick. I would have said you’re the cockiest bastard I’ve ever known. So what’s got you so sure she’s only after your money?”
He shrugged. “I did not say only.” He shied away from discussing his sex life with Rebecca with Eric, although he would trust the man with his life. It felt like a betrayal. He stuck to a very loose version of the truth. “She is physically attracted to me, now. But when she accepted the proposal, she didn’t know that she would be. She didn’t know what she was getting. Why did she do it? It had to have been for the money.”
“She gained more by marrying you than money,” Eric pointed out with a small frown. “She gained prestige, a royal title, and very real political influence. Not to mention being married to a pain in the arse for the rest of her life.”
There were few people in his life who felt comfortable speaking freely with Tariq, and he treasured his friendship with Eric all the more for the relaxed footing they were on. Eric had never let Tariq’s royal title distract him. He was a loyal confidant, more like a brother than a friend.
His answering smile was distracted. “And yet, she doesn’t seem all that interested in money. Her attendants have informed me that she buys no clothes for herself – they have standing orders with local boutiques on her behalf.”
“When you say attendants, I presume you’re referring to Monique?” Eric cut in quickly. “I meant to ask you how it came about that your most recent mistress is now serving as a lady-in-waiting to your new wife.”
Tariq’s face showed his anger. “I do not know,” he answered honestly. “I took such little interest in the proceedings of my marriage, especially when it came to the arrangements for my fiancé.” He shook his head in self castigation. “I suppose my mother selected Rebecca’s staff. And who better to acquaint a woman with my needs than the woman who serviced them so excellently for so many years.”
“Ouch. That seems a little cynical.” Eric’s tone was disapproving.
“Pragmatic, rather, and you and I both know my mother is nothing if not pragmatic.” He had lost sleep worrying about how Rebecca would react if she knew. His relationship with Monique had ended before he’d married Rebecca. But only just before. That she was still in his life would be an obvious betrayal to his bride.
“So, reading between the lines, you have started to have feelings for your wife – which I know was never part of the plan. And before you can accept that you’re falling for her, you want to make sure she is as she seems?”
“More or less,” Tariq said with a nod of his head.
“Look, man, I don’t want you to get hurt either, but relationships have to be built on trust. If you don’t trust her, then you can’t be serious about her.”
“How can I trust a woman who marries a man she’s never met?” He snapped crossly.
“Your mum did it,” Eric contradicted.
“My mother is Assanian. She was betrothed to my father as a teenager, married at twenty. It is all she’s ever known. Rebecca is beautiful, talented, intelligent... She could have been anything she wanted. Married any guy she wanted. Yet she signed herself up for a future with a man who for all she knew, could have been fat, balding, abusive... How can I accept that?” He shifted in his seat. “Have I told you about her dancing?” He asked.
Eric lifted his eyes heavenward. “Only about a thousand times.”
“I’m sorry – am I boring you?” Tariq asked with as much regal command as he could inject into his voice.
“No. You’re confusing me. Who cares about the whys, when you’ve got everything you’ve ever wanted?” He said honestly.
“Have I? I’ve got her body. I don’t have her mind. She is locked away from me, always steering away from my questions, making sure things don’t get too serious.”
“I’ve never known you to want much more from a woman than her body. I would have said ‘serious’ was the last thing you’d want something to become,” Eric was still teasing but it cut Tariq to the core.
“That isn’t true.” He frowned. “I suppose I had a habit of dating women who don’t want more than a quick roll in the hay, and some expensive gifts, perhaps. But I’ve always known my relationships had an expiration point. I expected to love my kingdom, not my wife.”
“Are you saying you love Rebecca, Tariq?” Eric leaned forward in his cheer, appraising his friend with surprise.
Tariq shook his head. “I’m not saying that at all. I’m saying, hypothetically, I never doubted that I was born to rule Assan. It is in my blood, it fires my soul. But all I have ever expected of my wife is a pleasant temperament, and a uterus capable of carrying on the family line.”
“Charming,” Eric drawled cynically. “Problem solved. Just repeat that romantic little speech to Rebecca and she’ll fall swooning to your feet.”
He gritted his teeth. “I know you mean well but your sarcastic jokes are starting to wear thin, old friend.”
“Sorry, sorry.” He raised his hands with a small smile. “I do know what you mean. The principle point of your marriage is to procure an heir. Or heirs, as the case may be.”
He mumbled his agreement.
“You’re overthinking it, Tariq. You’ve only known each other a few weeks. Let her get used to all the changes in her life, and see what happens. She might open up to you more as time goes on.”
“Do I strike you as a ‘go with the flow’ kind of man, Eric?” He asked contemptuously, but his contempt was all for himself.
After making love to his wife in the pool that night, he’d fled to Fattid like a coward, and here he remained. That night, she’d avoided him, and he had been filled with fear. It had taken that to make him realise that he was using their sexual chemistry to keep her hooked, hoping that as time went by, she would open up to him about just what made those ice blue eyes cloud over so often.
Using her attraction to him for his own cause was beneath him, and he had known he needed to put some space between himself and the situation. Now, though, in his luxurious inner city office, all he could think about was Rebecca. She might have been a thousand miles from him, but she was also living and breathing right into his soul.
“Let me put it another way. Have you told her how you acquired that rather large gash across your brow?” Eric nodded towards the now almost invisible scar that stretched across half of his forehead.
Tariq frowned. “No. You know I don’t speak about it.”
“That’s my point. Perhaps the lovely Rebecca has things in her past that are equally difficult to speak about. She’s getting to know you, to trust you, as you are her.”
“I don’t like waiting.” He said haughtily and Eric laughed.
“Your problem, your highness, is that you’re too used to everyone obeying you instantaneously. And I’ll bet you’ve damned never had a woman who’s challenged you like she does.”
“I like that she challenges me...”
“You like it sometimes, but you can’t just get her to switch that off at your convenience. She’s independent and thoughtful and when she is ready, she will probably start to share more of herself with you. For now, you just have to put up with what she’s happy to give. And going by the ‘floating on air’ smile I’ve seen on your face a few times today, that’s not too bad.”
He didn’t respond. His thoughts were on his wife, and suddenly, he yearned to be near her again. But he needed the space. He needed her to have space. Maybe apart they’d work out how to be together.
“She’s independent,” he mused, “and yet she’s shy. Sometimes I feel like there are two Rebeccas inside of her. One, full of sass and spark, and the other, afraid and timid, scared of making a scene. Is it possible that her whole personality is a deceit?”
Eric shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’ve only met her a couple of times, but I’d say it’s natural that she’d be overwhelmed by the changes in her life. It’s odd that she didn’t know her parents had made this arrangement for her.”
Tariq shook his head. “Not really. Her parents died when she was ten. She was raised by her mother’s sister and the sister’s husband. They adopted her. But it’s entirely possible they didn’t know of the contract until my father approached them.”
“And that was only a month or so before your wedding?” Eric queried.
“Correct.”
“So she hasn’t had very long to get used to it.”
“You agree with me, though, don’t you, Eric? What would make her accept the contract? Most women would be terrified to move to a foreign country, live amongst a people whose ways are so different.”
“Well, for one thing, she probably did an internet search on you before accepting. So that would mean she knew you weren’t fat, balding, or horrible. Also, she would have seen that you studied abroad and are, to all intents and purposes, as much a man of the west as I am.”
“And then, there’s the money,” he drawled cynically.
“So what, Tariq! You’re going to drive yourself crazy if you think the only reason she married you was for wealth. And even if it was the reason she initially accepted a contract that had been signed twenty four years earlier, her affection for you seems genuine now. Isn’t that what an arranged marriage is predicated on? The growing of affection over time?”
“Yes.” He snapped with a wave of his hand in the air.
“Your ego is bruised because, for once, a woman might not have fallen for your charm alone. That doesn’t mean she hasn’t fallen for your charm now.”
“But I can’t let myself feel what I want to with her.” He shook his head, but his eyes showed his implacable determination. “My first assessment of Rebecca was that she was a mercenary, and I don’t see any evidence now to contradict that. I will always know that had circumstances been different, if I were just a poor librarian or waiter, she wouldn’t have given me a passing glance.”
Despite his friend’s obvious slump, Eric couldn’t stifle his laugh. “You – a librarian?”
Tariq lifted his head proudly. “She has never had a boyfriend, Eric. You and I both know a woman as beautiful as Rebecca would have been besieged by offers. What held her back? Could it be that she’s always been waiting for the biggest fish she could hook?”
“Well, if that’s the case, she did well to wait for you. Royalty is quite a catch.” Eric rolled his eyes. “You’re being ridiculous, my friend. I could buy into your theory if she knew about the marriage contract, but she didn’t. What woman would spend her youth lying in wait for a prince that might never arrive?”
“I don’t think she intended on marrying royalty. A CEO probably would have done it. A wealthy individual who could give her a good life.”
“Tariq, listen to yourself. For the first time since I’ve known you, you’re not making any sense. You told me yourself only five minutes ago that Rebecca hasn’t spent any of your money. And, as you point out, she’s stunningly attractive and interesting to boot. If she was intent only on snaffling a rich husband, she would have done so well before now.”
Although Eric’s rational words were perfectly logical, Tariq couldn’t quell the sense of unease that there was so much more to his wife than he knew. The only thing that explained why she had married him was a hankering for wealth and position, and those were qualities he couldn’t admire. His wife was dangerous. She represented a greater danger to him than any other he coul
d imagine. She made him vulnerable in a way a leader should not be. She weakened him. He knew that, if she caught him in the right moment and asked it of him, he would throw over his kingdom and run away with her. Only, she wouldn’t want that, would she? Rebecca, his sheikha, wanted the kingdom, and all the trappings that went with it. Despite having no firm proof, he was sure of it.
So long as he remembered what she wanted from him – money – then he could carry on as he had before. Sex was obviously something she viewed as a part of their transaction. So be it.
Sex and money. And lots of both. Yes. Just as long as he enforced the boundaries of their relationship, this could still work.
His stomach rolled with the unpleasant emotions coursing through him. He had to remember her true motivations. Hardening his heart, he stood from behind his desk. It was an abrupt signal to Eric. Conversation closed.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ten days he’d been away.
Ten days and ten long, lonely nights.
She twirled her blonde hair over her shoulder, trying to concentrate on the proposal she was planning to make to Tariq, upon his return. Whenever that might be.
She shook her head to clear away the constant pain that pricked at her heart.
In a few short weeks, she had come to need Tariq almost as much as she needed air or water. When she’d entered into the marriage, she had no expectation beyond civility, but now... now she wanted it all.
She loved him.
At least, she thought she did.
Having never loved anyone in her life, with the exception of her parents and grandfather, of course, she was a total novice.
But he consumed her every thought, his face dancing tantalisingly in her memory day and night, and wherever she was, her eyes were scanning for his familiar dark head and intelligent, assessing eyes.
She squeezed her own blue eyes shut and took in a deep, shaky breath.
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