Royal Weddings

by Clare Connelly

  She held her breath, every bone in her body wobbling in anticipation of his response. “Are you going to let me leave?”

  Tamir shook his head slowly, from one side to the other. It was his worst nightmare. He had no desire to hold Olivia as a prisoner. And yet he had no means with which to keep her by his side. Not if she truly wanted to go. “I cannot keep you here against your will. I never would have, Olivia.” He put his finger beneath her chin. “I know I pressured you into coming to Talidar. I truly believed you would be glad, in time. That you just couldn’t accept that you wanted me the way you do.”

  He was right. She had been grateful, and had become that way so quickly. So fast it made her head spin. How had she fallen for him? Despite the way he’d bullied her into his life, she had absolutely lost her heart to him.

  “So you’re saying I wasn’t truly your prisoner?”

  He dipped his head forward, and pressed his lips lightly to hers. “No more than I am yours.”

  She frowned. His kiss, his scent, his nearness. It was intoxicating. She sobbed silently. “I have to go.”

  “You do not have to do anything.”

  She lifted her hands to his broad chest. She could feel his rhythmic breathing beneath her palms. The beating of his heart. Steady and unmoved, it thumped solidly and slowly. His heart was not touched by her. Not in the way hers was.

  She blinked. He was wrong.

  Leaving was essential. Both to her survival and her sanity. “Will you contact me about a divorce?”

  He shifted his weight from one leg to the other. He had sworn that he would tell her. That night. That he would be honest with her. But the perfect moment had approached, and passed him by.

  “I will handle the logistics.” He lifted her hand to his mouth. He wanted… he couldn’t have said. He only knew that he didn’t want this.

  “Olivia… letting you go is difficult for me. Please understand that it is a sign of how I feel about you that I am allowing you to leave me.”

  Her heart turned over. Was it enough? Would it one day be enough for her that he wanted her there, even if he didn’t ever love her?

  It couldn’t be.

  If she only loved him less.

  She ran her thumb over his lips, then stepped away. “I really am sorry. About Marni.”

  His gut clenched. “Don’t apologise to me, Azeezi.”

  As he watched Olivia walk away, he wondered desperately how he could stop her. Legally, she was his subject, and he was in command of all he surveyed. But not her. He couldn’t do it to her.

  He pushed the door to his office shut, and forced himself to refocus. A month ago, he hadn’t known she existed. He had lived without her just fine. He could do it again. Couldn’t he?

  Of course he could. He was Sultan Tamir Al’ani, and no one: woman, man or baby, could humble him. He had been born to rule, and he would continue to do so, until the day he died. With or without Olivia Anderson.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “I can’t possibly have another one,” she groaned, eyeing off the tequila shot dubiously.

  Jack pushed it towards her. “Come on. I can still see tears in your eyes. Bottoms up, girl.”

  She grimaced, but lifted the yellow liquid to her lips. She hesitated at first, then threw it back in one swift motion. It burned the whole way down, causing Olivia to blink and shake her head. “Phwooaaar, that’s disgusting.”

  Jack nodded. “You get used to it after a while. How many’s that?”

  Olivia eyed off the empty glasses. “Three. Three too many,” she grimaced.

  “Enough to accept my apology?”

  She eyed him thoughtfully, her green eyes shining in his face. “You know I don’t need you to apologise. I understand you better than anyone.”

  “I was an arse, babe. I should never have gone with you that day. I knew it would be too tempting.”

  She nodded, stretching her mouth to deal with the unfamiliar and astringent taste of almost pure alcohol. “You shouldn’t have come. But I understand that you’re not a thief, Jack.”

  He grimaced. “If you hadn’t saved me, I’d probably be rotting in some foreign prison.”

  She nodded again. “More than likely.”

  “Thank you.”

  Olivia didn’t know what to say. My pleasure? Well, in the end, it certainly had been. In the two weeks since she’d returned from Liya, she’d barely had a moment without her memories being tortured by thoughts of Tamir. His body had controlled hers effortlessly, making her shake and tremble with a single look alone.

  “How’s your mother?” Jack asked quietly, running his finger around the rim of a shot glass.

  “Amazing.” Olivia’s grin was genuine, and it transformed her face completely. “She’s like a different person now. I mean, more like the mum I remember. Her new doctor is working wonders.”

  “At least that’s a silver lining.”

  “Yes.” She nodded. One of many. For though she missed him so much it made her ill, she would never wish away her time with Tamir.

  “And you? You aren’t really pining for your foreign prince, are you?”

  Olivia dropped her gaze. “I… No. Not pining exactly. It’s hard to explain.”

  “Sounds like we need more drinks.”

  “No.” She held her forearms in a cross formation. “No more drinks. I can’t possibly.”

  “Yes. I’m getting you to the point where you can no longer speak. It’s Friday night, you’re young, footloose and fancy-free. Start acting like it.”

  She watched him walk away and called after him, helplessly, “Some nachos too, then, Jack!”

  He waved a hand in the air by way of acknowledgement.

  Mexican food after work should have been some tacos and a glass of wine. Instead, they’d worked their way through a quarter of a bottle of tequila already, and more was on the way. Still. If it helped her achieve a single night’s sleep without dreams of Tamir, then she would drink whatever Jack put in front of her. It wasn’t wise, but God, she was sick of missing a man who would never return her love.

  “You know,” Jack said, as he slid into the seat next to Olivia and handed her a shot. “I don’t understand the appeal, myself.”

  “The appeal?” She asked, throwing the drink back without looking at him. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

  “Yeah. Of the man-mountain. Tamir.’

  “Oh.” Her cheeks flushed.

  “I mean, sure. He’s got that tall, dark and handsome thing going for him. But he’s not charming and blonde like I am.” He grinned. “And he doesn’t have my sense of humour.”

  “Nor your penchant for petty-theft,” she responded with a tight smile.

  He shrugged. “Sounds absolutely boring. So what is it?”

  She chewed on her bottom lip, distracting Jack with the way her white teeth moved over the pink flesh. “I love him.”

  “You… love him? Oh, Jeez, Liv. You hardly know him.”

  She ran a hand through her blonde hair. She’d had it chopped off, the day after leaving Tamir. A traumatic reaction to their separation, undoubtedly. She’d asked the hairdresser to cut it short all over, but perhaps understanding that Olivia would regret it, the stylist had refused, and instead sculpted it into a shoulder length style. It was wild about her pretty face, a complete contrast to the sleek royal styles her attendants had arranged each morning. She teased it with her fingers and focussed her gaze on Jack. He was slightly blurry around the edges, a sure fire sign that she should quit drinking.

  She reached for another shot glass and cradled it in her palm. “I can’t explain it. There’s just something between us. Like I’d been waiting for him all my life. I totally understand how crazy that must seem to you, but it’s how I feel.”

  He lifted a shot glass to his lips and tossed it back. “You’re right. It does sound crazy.”

  She burst out laughing. She was definitely feeling very fuzzy around the edges. “And the sex was… amazing.” />
  “Meh. Sex is always amazing.”

  “No,” she shook her head, and gripped his forearm. “It isn’t. Not like this.”

  Jack passed another glass to her, but Olivia was wise enough to realise she’d had more than her limit. She placed it on the table.

  “Have you ever wondered about us?” Jack asked, following her lead and pushing the glass away.

  “About us?” She frowned. “You mean romantically?”

  He shrugged. “Sure. Or sexually. Whatever. I mean, we have a great time together. I don’t like anyone so much as I do you. So what if we could make this work.”

  She shook her head. “I just told you, Jack. I’m in love with Tamir.”

  “Yes.” He linked his fingers through hers. “But you left him. Two weeks ago. And you haven’t heard a peep from him.”

  That was not strictly true. She’d had one email, informing her that their marriage had been terminated. And asking her to call him. She hadn’t acknowledged him. It would only have led to more heartbreak.

  “So?”

  Jack shrugged. “It’s sort of obvious that he doesn’t return your feelings. Don’t you think you should move on?”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “I know I should. And I will. But it’s only been two weeks.”

  “Which is half the time you even knew him. Come on! It doesn’t make sense that you’re pining.”

  “I’m not pining,” she huffed indignantly.

  “You are.” He tapped his finger, slightly drunkenly, to her head. “But you’ll get over him. You’re a good catch. For someone else. So don’t worry about whatshisname.”

  She nodded, though his words didn’t ring remotely true. “Thanks, Jack. And you?”

  He pulled a face. “Therapy. And lots of it. The thought of losing you as a friend finally got my arse into gear.” He met her eyes, his expression suddenly sombre. “The biggest risk I could take in my life is losing you.”

  She felt a small bubble of pleasure in the midst of the darkness that was her life. “You’re not going to lose me. I know what you’ve been through.” She stabbed a finger towards his heart. “And I know you’re a good guy. You just have to know it.”

  “I’m working on it.”

  Their nachos arrived, but Olivia wasn’t sure she could even look at them. “Jack,” she said quietly. “I don’t feel so great.”

  He looked at her worriedly. “You don’t?”

  “Uh uh.” She reached for her bag. “I’m going to go grab a cab home.”

  “Don’t be silly. I’ll come with you. It’s my fault you can hardly walk straight.”

  He was not exaggerating. Olivia hardly ever drank more than a single glass of champagne, and even then, only rarely. The several shots of tequila had made her almost immobile. He helped her towards a taxi and slid in beside her. He gave her address, then put an arm around her shoulder, to keep her propped up.

  “I feel yucky.”

  “I know.” Guilt washed over him. He loved her to bits. She was his best friend. But he was bad for her. Hell, he’d got her drunk in an attempt to help her feel better, and now Jack was wondering if he shouldn’t be taking her to a hospital. “Are you okay, princess?”

  She nodded. “Don’t call me that.”

  “Okay.” He squeezed her shoulder, and looked outside anxiously, waiting for the car to come to a stop outside her apartment. Her mother was still at the plush institution Tamir had arranged. And no way was Jack going to leave her alone after he’d force fed her so much booze.

  He handed the cabbie a wad of notes and helped Olivia from the cab. “Come on, baby,” he murmured, guiding her up the stairs. He had to use his whole body to help her, and then to keep his arm propped around her waist as he slid her key from her jeans and pushed it into the lock. Finally, the security door gave, and he was able to hook his arm around her waist and propel her forward, up the stairs and into her flat.

  “Liv,” he laughed, “You’re really drunk.”

  “No shit,” she groaned, slipping out of her coat and almost falling over in the process.

  Despite the seriousness of the situation, Jack smiled. “Let me help you.” He was in the process of unhooking her buttons when the door literally flew open.

  “Didn’t you lock that?” Olivia slurred, looking at Jack before turning towards the door.

  Tamir strode in, and summed up the room in one second. Jack’s hands were on Olivia’s jacket, pushing it downward. His legs were pinning her against the wall. Tamir slammed the door shut in the face of his security agent, stormed over to Jack and pushed him forcibly away. He took one look at Olivia, weak and unable to focus, and he lost all control of his temper.

  He lifted a fist and slammed it into Jack’s pretty face. It sent the blonde man flying, but Tamir didn’t care. He turned to Olivia and made a sound of frustration. She was leaning against the wall, for support. He scooped her up, holding her over his shoulder, and marched her straight out of her apartment.

  “Hey!” Jack followed after them, but he was wobbly on his feet.

  Tamir made another groan of anger. “Stay with him,” he commanded one of his security agents. “Make sure he doesn’t swallow his tongue overnight.”

  He carried her to his waiting limousine and placed her on the back seat. She was wearing a suit, much like the one she’d been wearing the day she’d come to his embassy. He reached across and buckled her in, then sat beside her.

  “What are you doing here?” Olivia blinked her eyes, trying to focus on him.

  Tamir clenched his fists by his side, and stared at her. “Your hair is short.”

  She ran her fingers through it self-consciously. “I know.”

  “You’re drunk.”

  She hiccoughed, then laughed. “I know that too. Do you like my hair?”

  He looked at her with an inscrutable expression. He reached out and flicked his fingers through her cropped hair, without answering.

  She tilted her head back against the leather seat. “What are you doing here?”

  “Trying not to strangle you, right now.”

  She flicked her eyes to him, but holding her head up was difficult. “Oh…Go away.”

  He put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her head to his shoulder. “Shut your eyes, Olivia.”

  She wanted to scream at him, but she was too tired. And too sick. She did as he said, and breathed in his scent gratefully. “I hate you, you know.”

  His smile was grim. “Understandably. Shut your eyes.”

  She couldn’t have kept them open if she’d wanted to. Even when they arrived at his embassy, and he carried her inside, she barely stirred. He placed her down on the bed that they’d shared the first time they’d slept together, and he stared at her. She was the most beautiful, perfect, frustrating woman he’d ever known.

  He picked up the black phone on his bedside table and spoke into it quickly. Then, he sat beside Olivia, and ran a hand over her hair. “Hey,” he spoke softly, his accent thick. “Olivia. Wake up.”

  She blinked, but it was too hard to lift her heavy eyelids.

  A knock sounded on the door, and she felt Tamir stand from the bed. He returned moments later. “You can sleep, I promise. But first, drink this.”

  She made a sound of complaint and pushed up to sitting. Her mouth felt disgusting. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  “Quite possibly. But it’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” Tamir remarked quietly, a smile on his lips. He handed her a bottle of water. “Drink this.”

  She did as he said, forcing herself to swallow the ice cold liquid even though she just wanted to sleep. She finished the bottle, then handed it back to him.

  His eyes were heavy with accusation, and it made her stomach ache. “Lie down, Olivia.”

  “I have to shower,” she murmured.

  “No.” His laugh was soft. “Tomorrow morning. For now, sleep.”

  He eased her backwards onto the pillows. “Mir?” Her voice was made almost incompreh
ensible by alcohol.

  “Mmm?”

  “You’re not going anywhere, are you?”

  He put a hand on her leg, feeling her warmth and taking strength from the contact.

  “I’ll be here all night.”

  And he was. He didn’t sleep. He couldn’t. He sat at the foot of the bed, reading a newspaper and watching her breathing. He would be furious with her the next day, but in that moment, he needed simply to be sure she hadn’t drunk herself into a coma.

  She hadn’t.

  The sun rose over London, and Olivia rose with it. More or less.

  “Oh, crap,” she mumbled, putting a hand to her head and squinting her eyes. “Where am I?” Her eyes rotated lower, until they reached Tamir. She sat bolt upright, and stared around the familiar room. “What am I doing here?”

  He set aside his paper. “You don’t remember?”

  She closed her eyes, and held a hand to her head. “I drank too much.”

  “Yes.” Tamir stood and grabbed another water bottle. He passed it to her. “We can deal with that another time.”

  She glared at him with impressing animosity, given that she felt like her head was about roll away from her shoulders. “It’s not your problem to deal with.”

  “Guess again,” he muttered, moving across the bed to put a hand on her forehead. “How do you feel?”

  She pulled away from him sharply, so fast that her eyes burned. “How do you think I feel?”

  “You were in quite a state.”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “Why?” He narrowed his eyes. “What would have happened if I hadn’t arrived?”

  She scowled at him. “Nothing. I would have gone to bed. Alone.”

  “I don’t think Jack was on the same page as you.”

  She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. “You don’t know Jack.”

  He shook his head. “What I do know about him, I do not like.”

  “Then it’s just as well he’s my friend, not yours.”

  Tamir shook his head and reached for the phone. “You can be very stubborn sometimes,” he told her quietly, before turning his attention to the receiver. He spoke into it succinctly, then replaced it.