Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
S oraiya didn’t think she’d ever forget that moonlit drive across the desert. Zak was on a conference call with his vizier and others of his staff, discussing how the meeting had gone, and this allowed her space to reflect on all that had happened. The sense of anticipation at what lay ahead, tinged with nerves, mingled with the deep satisfaction of having helped secure the agreement of the French delegation.
Now and then, she’d glance over at him. The light from the phone illuminated the planes of his face—the high cheekbone and firm jaw—as he turned away from her, outlining actions which needed to be taken while also listening intently to his advisers. She liked he could listen as well as command. It boded well for his reign. And for her.
But the rest of the time she was lost in her own thoughts as she stared at the dark plain outside and the outline of the city, a glow of light around it like a beacon of hope. It was an accurate representation of her feelings. She felt as if she were lit up inside with a buzzing of anticipation, excitement and, yes, hope. For the first time in her life, she didn’t feel the need to fight for her happiness. Zak had shown her clearly that he could make her happy and she could only wonder at how much happier he could make her. She could hardly wait for the night ahead. And, as she sat listening to the one-sided conversation, she suddenly understood the pleasure which lay in anticipation.
When they at last entered the palace grounds, he caught her glance and held it while he continued to talk on the phone. She smiled at him, but his only smile was in his eyes. And there was a wealth of promise there, even as his phone call continued.
After the car passed through two more security gates, he finished his call. “Ready?” he asked.
She nodded, although she wasn’t sure what he was asking. But then, she was ready for anything that lay ahead of her now.
They parked outside the rear of the palace, directly beside the private wing. Their doors were opened for them and, after talking briefly with his guards, Zak glanced around, no doubt out of habit, and they entered the palace together. Once into the drawing room, they were alone and Zak yanked at his tie, loosening it, and tossed it aside.
“Thank goodness that’s over,” he said, walking across to the bar. “Would you like a drink?”
“Sparkling water, please,” she said, pulling off her scarf and laying it over the back of a chair. She suddenly felt nervous, picked it up again and walked over to the bedroom. It didn’t feel right to lay her clothes around the sitting room.
“Where are you going?”
“The bedroom,” she said.
Once there, she closed the door on him and breathed a deep sigh, realizing that the excitement had turned to nerves. She placed her scarf in the wardrobe and caught sight of herself in the mirror. She wore a short sequined jacket over her evening dress for modesty and she pulled it off, loosening yet more hair from the elaborate style her maid had created for her. Surely it was no longer the time for modesty. On impulse, she pulled out the clips, and it tumbled around her shoulders.
She looked at herself again. The shoestring straps and tight bodice left little to the imagination, and instinctively she pulled on the jacket again. Yes, she wanted him to want her, but equally, she was terrified. She grabbed the clips again and tried to twist her hair back into a bun again, but her fingers were clumsy and she was increasingly feeling hot and bothered. It looked worse than before.
There was a knock at the door. “Everything all right?” he called out.
“Yes,” she said, desperately trying to fix her hair and failing miserably. She grunted in frustration and pulled it free again. “Just coming.”
He did a double-take as she entered. “Ah,” he said, taking the drinks to the table, “I can see you were making yourself more comfortable.”
“I was going to, but I don’t seem to be very good at it.”
He grinned. “It comes with practice, believe me. I can imagine you’ve spent all your life trying not to relax, not to be comfortable.”
She was surprised at his accurate assessment. “Yes, how did you…” she trailed off, at a loss for words.
“How did I know? Honestly, you’re not that hard to understand. A clever woman who has spent her life undervalued by her father, determined to be the perfect daughter in order to achieve, in order, perhaps, to be loved.”
“Hm,” she said, pressing her lips together. She hated he understood her so easily. “I didn’t realize I was that simple.”
“I didn’t say you were simple.”
“And how about you?” she asked, determined to change the subject. “Should I attempt to analyze you?”
He shrugged. “You can attempt all you like, but I doubt you’ll succeed.”
She laughed. “How like a man to imagine he’s so much more complex than a woman.”
He sat back in an easy chair opposite her. “Okay. You have my personality down simply as a womanizer and you must know that, as I’ve taken over the throne from my brother, I’m also driven by duty.”
She nodded. “Yes. And you’re the typical young brother, with more freedom than his elder brother, and therefore less serious.”
He smiled and shook his head. “You obviously do not know my brother.”
She blinked in surprise. She’d thought she did. “I only met him a few times before our wedding, but I heard a lot about him, and read about him. He appeared exactly as I say—serious and dutiful.”
“And he is. But he is also less suited to be king than me. I enjoy the cut and thrust of politics. Kadar doesn’t. But he’s found the perfect way to contribute with his new wife Sarah. Their marriage has brought an internal peace to our country, which had seemed impossible only months earlier. But I am also serious.”
“So serious you spent your time in the company of beautiful women, one after another.”
“Only if you believe the gossips.”
“Is there any reason I shouldn’t?”
“Because they exaggerate the truth. I don’t make love to every beautiful woman I see.”
“How restrained of you.”
“Yes. I think so. It wouldn’t be fair on some women who might believe we have a future together.”
“So you only made love to women who understood it would remain casual.”
“Exactly.”
“That is, indeed, very serious of you. And duty, where do you stand on that?”
He shrugged. “I’ve stepped up to my duty. I had little before my brother, but now he has abdicated I have, shall we say, embraced it.” For a moment, she thought he was about to embrace her. “And what about you? Are you not disappointed to find yourself married to the younger brother? My brother believed you were in love with him. And I am very different from him. I must be a big disappointment after him.”
“Oh yes, a very big disappointment.” She took a sip of her drink, allowing the silence to drawer out a little, unable to resist teasing him a little. If nothing else, it eased her nerves.
“Aren’t you going to elaborate?”
“Do you really want me to? I didn’t think you would be so needy.”
“Nor I. But there are lots of things I’m realizing are new to me over the past week.”
“Such as?” she asked.
“Such as being intrigued by the woman I have married.”
She bit her lip and took another sip of her water, as her nerves rose again like an engulfing wave.
“You have a cynical view of marriage,” she said at last. “If you didn’t believe you’d be interested in your wife at all.”
“Indeed. Which was why I never intended to get married.”
This was news to her. “And why was that?”
He shrugged and sat back in his chair. “Maybe it’s because I have no great role models.”
“Your parents’ marriage was so bad?”
He nodded. She gave him space to elaborate, but he didn’t. Instead, his face looked closed, and she knew she couldn’t push him if he didn’t want to go there. Not yet. But she would get an answer. “Mine, too,” she volunteered, hoping her confidences would take away his frown. “It had got so bad my mother left my father to live in France.”
He nodded. “Maybe that made things easier for you. At least you didn’t have to endure their animosity all your life.”
“That’s true. Just the early part of it. I guess it probably saved my relationship with both of them. I loved my mother. And, after I returned to Ra’nan, I learned to love my father as well. It doesn’t sound as if you were so lucky.”
“No,” he said shortly. “But then maybe you were more fortunate with your mother than we were with ours.”
It was her turn to frown. She leaned in to him, her hands clasped lightly in front of her. “You dislike your mother. And I don’t yet understand why.”
“And you won’t,” he said swiftly. “Anyway, I have no wish to waste my evening with you talking about my mother, or me, come to that. I’d much rather talk about you,” he said in a softer tone, as he glanced down at her chest. Her nipples hardened under his gaze. Then he looked back at her with darkened eyes. She may be an innocent, but she knew that look. He wanted her.
She didn’t move. She was suddenly conscious of the way her breasts were pushed together, forming an impressive cleavage. And yet still she didn’t move. Despite her lack of experience, her nights with Zak had shown how much he admired her breasts. And she knew that it wasn’t talking about her he wanted now. But she’d play the game a little longer.
“And what,” she said, her voice barely a husky whisper, “is it about me you’d like to discuss?”
“Can’t you guess?”
“You’ll have to help me. I’m not a mind-reader.”
“Oh, I think you’re exactly that. Tell me, what is it I’m thinking?”
“Well, while I may not be a mind-reader, I can hazard a guess.”
He raised an eyebrow in query.
“I think you’re thinking about sex. As am I.”
He leaned over to her, and she held her breath, her mouth opening to receive the kiss she suddenly wanted so desperately. But, instead, he took the glass from her hand and placed it on the table. A smile played on his lips as he extended his hand to her.
“In which case, I think it’s time, Soraiya, don’t you?”
She didn’t answer, but rose and took his hand. With a little tug—it really didn’t take much—he pulled her to him.
“Time for what, Zak?” she breathed.
“Bed, of course.”