The Sultan Demands His Heir Page 16

  ‘Then tell me what you did come for.’

  His gave a snake-like smile. ‘You may have pulled the wool over our leader’s eyes, but I know exactly who you are, Miss Scott. I know what happened in Las Vegas with a certain young man named Bryan Atkins.’

  Shock lanced through her. He witnessed her reaction and his smile widened. ‘Do I have your attention now, Miss Scott?’

  She nodded numbly. ‘What do you want?’

  His eyes hardened. ‘For you to do the right thing, of course. If Zaid Al-Ameen isn’t fit to rule this country, then you are even less fit to be our Sultana.’

  She gasped. ‘You don’t think Zaid is fit to be Sultan?’

  ‘There are others more qualified than he.’

  She raised her chin. ‘You mean others you can bend to your will?’

  Black eyes narrowed. ‘You’d be wise to watch your tongue, Miss Scott. The Sultan isn’t here to protect you now.’

  Icy fingers crawled down her spine. ‘Is that all you came to say?’

  He reached into his pocket and brought out a rectangular envelope. ‘This is a first-class ticket back to your country. I will be pleased to provide you with a police escort to the airport if you wish it.’

  ‘I don’t wish it, thank you. If I decide to leave, I’ll do so under my own steam.’

  He placed the envelope on her desk anyway and walked towards her. Esme fought the urge to step back from his oily, menacing presence. ‘Get out of the country while you still have the chance, Miss Scott. This regime will not thrive for much longer.’

  With that ominous threat, he walked out.

  Esme expelled the breath she’d been holding, then immediately gulped in another. Her mind darted back and forth, debating which action to take first. She needed to warn Zaid. But she also needed to put into action the thoughts she’d been skirting before the chief of police’s noxious visit.

  She couldn’t marry Zaid.

  Not now she knew the depths of her feelings for him. Not now she knew her presence would cause nothing but dissension among his people.

  The walk to her desk felt like a walk to the gallows. But surprisingly the letter was easy to compose. As was the packing of her things three hours later. She thought of calling her father but discarded the idea. His phone calls were being monitored, and the last thing she needed was for her quiet exit to be announced. But what surprised her most was how easy her request to be driven to the airport was granted.

  The ticket attendant smiled widely and nodded when she requested a seat on the next available flight out of Ja’ahr. Esme didn’t care that it was headed to Rome instead of England. It was close enough.

  It was only as she began the two-hour wait for her flight that Esme got an inkling that something was going on. First the attendant came to inform her that her flight was delayed for a further two hours. Then the area around where she sat slowly started to empty of people. When she realised they were being herded away from her, Esme looked around and caught a few phone cameras pointed her way. Next she realised the bodyguards she thought she’d dismissed were still very much present. And a few more were fanned out close by.

  Esme rose from her seat as a hum built in the gathering crowd. When someone pointed at the window behind her, she turned. And swallowed hard at the sight of the royal jet parked on the tarmac.

  In the next instant she saw Zaid, robes flowing, ruthless intent stamped on his face as he stalked towards her.

  When he reached her he said nothing. Not with his lips anyway. His eyes however, blazed with fury, censure and disappointment.

  ‘Zaid—’

  ‘We are in public, jamila, and that is the only thing saving you from being placed over my knee and spanked to within an inch of your life,’ he growled, nostrils flared. ‘Now you will smile and take my hand and we will walk out of here and return to the palace.’

  Her heart leapt wildly. Then plummeted just as hard.

  ‘I can’t.’

  The tendons in his neck stood out as he struggled to control himself. ‘You can and you will. I’m not letting you go, Esmeralda.’

  ‘But, Zaid, the chief of police—’

  ‘Has been thoroughly and conclusively dealt with.’ He held up the letter she’d written to him, his eyes as cold as chips, although she caught something in there too. Something that made her heart lurch wildly. ‘This changes nothing, Esmeralda. You’re not leaving me. This wedding is going to happen, so get used to the idea.’

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  THE JA’AHRIAN MARRIAGE ceremony was like nothing she’d ever witnessed. Celebrated over a seven-day period, each evening at sunset, she and Zaid met before a different set of marriage elders to repeat vows of faithfulness, honour and devotion, after which they hosted a banquet for the thousand-strong guests and dignitaries who’d accepted their invitation.

  Had she been in a different state of mind, sheer awe would have rolled through her, each moment steeped in vivid Technicolor. But the pain and bewilderment lodged in her heart made names and faces blur into one, even as she pasted on a fake smile until she was sure her face would split in two.

  She was gazing entranced at fireworks that marked the official end to the celebrations when she felt Zaid’s eyes on her.

  His refusal to accept her backing out of the wedding had been absolute, his fury at her going back on her word catastrophic.

  Esme would have fought and rejected both had she not realised, at the moment she’d seen him walking towards her at the airport, that she was irrevocably, for better or worse, requited or not, head over heels in love with Zaid Al-Ameen.

  * * *

  He’d made the right decision. His wife, his Queen, and the future mother of his children was beautiful, poised, and a natural with his people. Many had come to the gates of the palace to offer her flowers. After the ceremony, before they departed for their honeymoon, she would take her place next to his and thank his people for their support in a live broadcast.

  All this could easily not have come to pass. He should have acted sooner to deal with Ahmed Haruni but he’d needed that final piece of evidence that the man had been inciting others to overthrow Zaid’s rule. He could so easily have lost Esmeralda. The knowledge still had the power to shake him. Even now, watching her, he knew how close it had all been.

  But no matter. They were married now. And Zaid couldn’t wait to show her off to the world. More than that, he couldn’t wait to be alone with her. To reacquaint himself with the delights of her body. And then perhaps the infernal hunger that dogged him would ease. He mentally shrugged. But who cared if it didn’t? She was his wife. His partner in life. They would always have each other.

  So why did he feel a kernel of unease gnawing at him each time he saw a shadow cross her face?

  He shook off the bad feeling. The doctor had declared her healthy and strong, her pregnancy thriving. And if the feelings swirling through him grew into something else...why not?

  He firmly broke off the conversation with the talkative minister and returned to his wife’s side. Taking her hand, he pressed a kiss to the back of it, grimacing inwardly when he felt her stiffen slightly. His behaviour at the airport had left a lot to be desired, he knew. But he intended to work on it. ‘It’s time to say our goodbyes.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘Already?’

  ‘They’ve had seven days of you. It’s my turn to spend time alone with you.’

  He made sure their goodbyes were quick, and the prepared speech was gratifying but brief.

  Then, finally done, he instructed his driver to deliver them to his jet. It was time to make Esmeralda his wife in every sense of the word.

  * * *

  They flew to the Bahamas before boarding the royal yacht moored in Nassau. Although travelling in extreme luxury had its perks, Esme was still tired when they finally arrived on board. Turned out keeping her emotions under constant guard did that to a woman. She may have admitted her feelings to herself, but she didn’t intend to admit them to
Zaid. Not when it was clear he wouldn’t welcome them.

  They set sail immediately, the idea being to island-hop for the next two weeks.

  Nashwa and Aisha had remained behind this time, and although Esme found herself missing their effervescent presence, she welcomed the peace and quiet and the chance to bathe and clothe herself without their well-intentioned interference.

  She was still fighting the emotions that seemed to bubble just below her skin when the door to the opulent shower cubicle opened and a very naked and aroused Zaid stepped in.

  She had a mere second to school her features, but the weeks since they had first made love had done nothing but sharpen the edge of her desire, and by the time he prowled over to where the water cascaded over her body, every atom of her being was on fire for him.

  ‘Is it irrational that I am jealous of the water caressing your body?’ he enquired huskily as he lowered his head to trail a kiss across one shoulder.

  She jerked back, bumped her shoulder on the wall. ‘What...what are you doing in here?’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘If you have to ask then something’s seriously wrong.’ He prowled closer.

  She had nowhere to go, so she held out a warding hand. ‘I know we’re on our honeymoon, but...’

  ‘But?’

  ‘I... Zaid, you don’t really want me—’

  ‘Take a very good look, habiba. The evidence speaks for itself, I believe.’

  Her hungry gaze swept over him, her face flaming when it lingered on the proud, rigid parts of his anatomy.

  ‘I...don’t mean that.’

  He sighed. ‘We got off to a rocky start, I admit. But whatever problems we need to iron out, let’s not make this one of them. Okay?’

  She knew she was weak when it came to him. Esme discovered just how weak when her body, independent of her mind, lunged into his arms.

  He made a rough sound in his throat, then took her mouth in a hot, carnal, demanding kiss. Like the first and second time, he set her aflame with just his mouth. But now she knew what else was coming. And she could barely contain herself. Boldly, she caressed him, driving him to the same fever pitch he’d inspired in her.

  On a wild whim, she grabbed the gel she’d just used, squeezing a few drops into her palm. The moment he broke the kiss, she stepped back and glided her hands over his torso. The surprise on his face was followed instantaneously by encouragement. Hard on the heels of that came a rough, thick curse before he was bundling her out of the shower and drying them off.

  When they reached the bed, he lifted her high, his gaze upturned to hers. ‘Now I truly make you my wife.’

  ‘And you my husband.’

  The arms that laid her reverently on the bed shook a little. The kiss he bestowed on her lacked a little of his usual smooth finesse. But she didn’t care.

  The magnificent man she’d fallen in love with was making love to her. Yes, there was pain in her heart, but for now there was bliss too. And she intended to hold onto that for as long as possible.

  That was her last thought before Zaid kissed his way down her body. Before he lingered on the flat plane of her belly where their child grew.

  Before, after praising her through her first climax, he rose above her and took her body with his.

  Unhurried, exquisite, their union brought tears to her eyes and a gruff shout from Zaid when he reached his own peak. Then, arms wrapped around each other, they slid into sleep.

  It set the tone for their honeymoon.

  By day they ate, sunbathed and explored the islands. And by night they made love after sharing mouth-watering meals on the top deck and talking long into the night.

  Besides his bodyguards, only Fawzi and another member of his staff accompanied them. Their presence barely registered, although Fawzi had taken to bowing from the waist when he walked into her presence.

  When she commented on it, Zaid laughed.

  ‘And why does he look disconcerted whenever I speak to him?’

  ‘Because he’s there solely for my benefit. And also because he sees it as a sign of disrespect to me to be brought into a private conversation.’

  ‘But I mean no disrespect! Surely he knows that?’

  ‘Whether you do or not doesn’t alter his belief.’

  ‘Really?’

  Zaid sobered. ‘Yes. There was a time when he would’ve been severely punished for being addressed directly in the presence of his ruler.’

  ‘What? That’s preposterous! It’s not his fault if he’s spoken to while he’s in the room.’

  ‘He’s supposed to be unobtrusive. Being made to feel self-conscious doesn’t sit right with him.’

  ‘Okay. Thanks for telling me that. I’ll make sure he’s not uncomfortable in my presence.’

  She gasped when he caught her hand and linked their fingers. ‘You’re a true gem, Esmeralda Al-Ameen. I’m a very blessed man.’

  Esme allowed her heart to take the leap it wanted. Although it soon fell with the knowledge that with each day that passed, and the more she fell under her husband’s spell, the more heartache she was inviting.

  As for her rush to tell Zaid her sordid secret, he’d said her past didn’t matter. She’d decided to take his word for it.

  For now.

  One day he would need to know. And when that day came, she would tell him.

  Except the day came much, much sooner than she anticipated. Eleven days into their two-week honeymoon, to be exact. It didn’t matter that the day was perfect, cloudless and the happiest day of her life.

  The moment Fawzi walked onto the sunny middle deck, where she and Zaid were having post-swimming drinks, she knew her days in paradise were over. His bow to her was brusque, and when he spoke it wasn’t in the deferential English he’d taken to speaking to both of them but in his master’s language.

  Slowly, she watched Zaid’s whole body turn deathly still, then he started to fire questions at his private secretary. Questions Fawzi answered without once looking her way. But Zaid was looking straight at her, with cold eyes that froze her to the marrow. He spoke again to his assistant, and this time Fawzi’s gaze darted to her. Esme wished he’d kept ignoring her. That way she wouldn’t have seen the pity in his eyes.

  He started to walk away. Zaid issued one last instruction. The younger man actually swallowed before he bowed and left the deck.

  Thick silence ensued. Despite the blazing temperatures, she shivered.

  ‘You know about Bryan, don’t you?’ Her voice was as weak as she felt.

  His nostrils flared for a wild instant before he spoke. ‘Is it true? He killed himself because you fleeced him out of one hundred thousand dollars then rejected him?’

  Her heart shook with misery. ‘No, it was my father. But he wouldn’t have gone after Bryan if I hadn’t made friends with him. My interest in him was what triggered my father’s attention.’ Like every time she thought about Bryan, she wished she’d walked away the day he’d approached her in that restaurant in Vegas.

  ‘This is the guy who took you in his helicopter?’ he pressed. ‘He’s the reason you’re racked with guilt whenever you approach a helicopter?’

  She nodded, her throat clogged with a boulder of dreadful pain. Not just because of the memory but the certain knowledge that she was about to lose Zaid.

  ‘When did he take his own life?’

  ‘The day after I refused his proposal. It was a few days before my eighteenth birthday. He wanted us to get married on my birthday. I said no. I was too young. God, so was he. We rowed after the helicopter ride and I never saw him again. A few days later his letter arrived. My father had emptied his bank account. Bryan thought I’d helped Dad to do it, but I didn’t. I hadn’t known anything about it. I tried to get my father to return the money. But...’

  ‘But?’ Zaid demanded harshly.

  ‘It was too late. Bryan threw himself off a bridge that morning.’

  His face hardened. ‘Did you know he loved you? Did you love him?’

  �
�No, I didn’t love him. He was just my friend. But I love you, Zaid,’ she confessed desperately.

  Wrong time. Wrong place. She knew it before his head went back and his eyes went black as if her words had physically assaulted him.

  ‘You love me? What a curious time to admit it. Do you think it’ll distract me from the fact that this news could rip apart the fragile foundations I’ve built in Ja’ahr?’

  The tears choking her finally fell free. ‘I didn’t say it because of that. I said it because it’s true.’ She stopped, her heart bleeding. ‘I’m sorry.’

  He rose from the lounger and paced away from her. ‘Sorry? A man lost his life because of your father’s greed! Several newspapers are poised to print that you and your father lured him in with lies and falsehoods, knowing all the time he was nothing but a pawn to you. My people have fallen in love with you. I...’ he stopped and gritted his jaw.

  Her heart shredded into a tiny million pieces. She pulled her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms around her cold body. ‘I promise I didn’t know about what my father did to Bryan, Zaid, not until it was too late. But I should have known what my father was up to. I blame myself for bringing Bryan into my life.’

  When he didn’t say anything, she ventured a glance. His face was an ashen landscape of anger and condemnation.

  ‘I’ve tried to become a better person. By doing whatever good I can wherever I can,’ she pleaded.

  But he was gone.

  He may have been physically on the deck with her but she’d lost her husband. The man she really shouldn’t have married in the first place. And when he turned and walked away without uttering another word to her, all she could do was bury her face in her arms and sob her heart out.

  Needless to say, the honeymoon was over. Within a few hours the yacht was back in its moorings, their bags were packed and they were headed towards Nassau airport.

  At first she was confused by the sight of two identical planes on the tarmac. When the penny dropped, her already shredded heart dropped along with it.

  ‘I’m going home alone, aren’t I?’ she asked Zaid the moment he stepped out of the SUV.

  ‘Yes, it’s for the best.’