Читать книгу Midnight in the Desert: Jewel in His Crown / Not Fit for a King? / Her Desert Prince - Линн Грэхем, Jane Porter - Страница 14

FROM her small collection of clothing, Ruby selected a black dress she had bought to wear at her mother’s funeral and a beige cotton casual jacket. She would be too warm in the garments but they would have to do because she couldn’t wear the red suit again. Some minimal make-up applied to conceal the puffiness of her eyes and her pallor, her hair caught up in a high ponytail for coolness, Ruby forced herself to walk out to the dining area and join Raja for breakfast.

‘Good morning …’ Raja murmured lazily as if they had not parted at odds the night before.

‘Good morning.’ One glance at that handsome face and her mouth ran dry and her heart thumped loudly behind her breastbone, while a tiny heated knot of reaction pulled taut in her pelvis and made her clench her thighs together as she took a seat opposite him. Face burning with discomfiture, she suddenly didn’t blame herself any more for succumbing to Raja’s lethal sex appeal. He was a heartbreakingly beautiful man. Her biggest weakness was her failure to appreciate how clever and calculating he might be, but now that she did know she would be a great deal more cautious.

‘I’ve made arrangements for a new wardrobe to be assembled for you in Najar,’ Raja informed her.

‘I do need more clothes. I don’t own dressy outfits but I wouldn’t want anything too expensive or flashy,’ Ruby responded thoughtfully as he poured tea for her and she buttered a roll. ‘The state this country is in, it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to be dressed up like some sort of celebrity.’

‘Wajid would disagree with you. He thinks life is too dull here and that you will bring some much-needed colour and the promise that brighter times lie ahead. Here you are a celebrity, whether you like it or not, and celebrities dress up.’

Zuhrah joined them along with her male administrative counterpart, Asim, who organised Raja’s diary. Ruby’s engagements at the orphanage and at a school were discussed and useful sheets of facts tucked into a file for her. She could not help noticing that the heavy-duty visits, like one to a homeless camp and another to a makeshift hospital, fell on Raja’s shoulders, Wajid evidently having decided such venues were no place for a lady. A lighter note was struck when a maid appeared with a crystal vase filled with the most exquisite white roses, which she placed on the table.

‘Oh, how lovely!’ Ruby got to her feet to lean down and draw in the rich opulent perfume of the perfect blooms and only then noticed the gift envelope inscribed with her name. She recognised Raja’s distinctive handwriting immediately. Eyes veiling, her facial muscles freezing, she took the card and sat down again to open it with pronounced reluctance.

I am sorry for upsetting you. Raja

Her teeth gritted. She reckoned there was never a truer word written than that apt phrase but she was unimpressed by the apology, for a wife barely able to look at him never mind speak to him was naturally a problem he had to fix. No doubt any effort made towards that objective would be all for the greater good and the peace treaty, as well.

‘Thank you,’ she said with the wooden intonation of a robot and gave him an even more wooden smile purely for the benefit of their audience of staff. Wajid would have been proud of her, she reflected bleakly. Instead of throwing the vase at her royal husband she had smiled at him, showing a restraint in her opinion that raised her near to sainthood. After all, had he been sincerely sorry would he not just have apologised across the table?

Ruby didn’t do a good fake smile, Raja acknowledged wryly while he wondered if it had been accidental or deliberate that at one point she had actually pushed the vase of roses out of her way to lay down her file. And then he could not credit that he had actually spared the brain power to wonder about something so trivial! He left the room to phone his jeweller and explain what he wanted: a diamond of the very highest calibre. Raja did not embarrass easily but her silence over breakfast had embarrassed him. He did not want their differences paraded in front of their staff for inevitably it would lead to gossip and the news that their marriage was in trouble would enter the public domain very soon afterwards.

Wajid accompanied Ruby to the orphanage and revealed that Raja had requested that he do so as soon as he had realised that Wajid had scheduled them to make visits separately.

‘His Royal Highness is very protective of you,’ Wajid told her with approval. ‘When he is unable to be with you he wants you to have every possible means of support.’

It occurred to Ruby that that was paradoxical when Raja seemed to have the power to wound her more than anyone else. His protectiveness meant nothing, she reasoned unhappily. The prince was simply one of those very masculine men who deemed a woman to be more helpless and instinctively expected to have to take care of her. That in the desert she had proven him right on that score still blasted a giant hole in her self-esteem. But why did she feel so unhappy? Why had he hurt her as no other man had ever succeeded in doing since her stepfather had gone out of her life?

It hadn’t just been sex for her, Ruby conceded reluctantly, striving to be honest about that. Raja was strong and clever and resourceful and she admired those traits. Add in his looks, boundless sex appeal and equally extensive charm and her defensive barriers had begun crumbling so fast she had barely registered the fact. Of course she had never met the equal of Raja al-Somari before. He came from a different world and culture but he had also been shaped by every educational advantage and great wealth and status. Twenty-odd years earlier, Ruby’s mother Vanessa had made the mistake of falling in love with just such a man. Was Ruby about to make the same mistake? Not if she could help it.

The limousine in which she was travelling drew up outside the orphanage, a cluster of relatively modern buildings that had mercifully not been targeted by the Najari soldiers. As the older couple she had met at the reception the night before appeared on the steps to welcome them, Ruby had no more time for introspection. She had always loved children. As her visit progressed she was alternately appalled by the scale of loss many of the children had suffered in losing their entire families and then touched by the resilience of their spirits. The orphanage was in dire need of more trained staff, bedding and toys but most of the children were still able to laugh and smile and play.

One little girl attached herself to Ruby almost as soon as she appeared by sliding her tiny hand into hers. About three years old, Leyla had big dark eyes, a tangle of black curls and a thumb firmly lodged in her rosebud mouth.

The orphanage director was surprised by the little girl’s behaviour and explained that she was rather withdrawn with the staff. Leyla’s parents had died during the war. Unfortunately there was no tradition of adoption in Ashuri society and many people were struggling just to feed their own families. Leyla clinging to her skirt, Ruby spent the most time with the younger children and listened while a story was being told. When the time came for Ruby to leave, Leyla clung to Ruby as if her life depended on it and, lifted from her, wept inconsolably. Ruby was surprised at how difficult she found it to part with Leyla. Just the feel and scent of that warm little body curled trustingly in her arms had made her eyes sting with tears. All of a sudden her own problems seemed to shrink in comparison.

Ignoring Wajid’s disapproving expression, Ruby promised to come back and visit in the evening. Their next visit to a temporary school housed in tents was a good deal more brisk but also less formal as Ruby mingled with teenagers and answered their questions as best she could, trying not to wince or stiffen when the court advisor admonished those he considered were being too familiar with his royal companion.

‘I don’t like formality. I’m more of a hands-on person and that’s the only style I’m comfortable with,’ Ruby informed the older man as they drove off.

‘Royalty should be more reserved,’ Wajid preached.

A determined look in her level eyes that Raja would have recognised, Ruby said quietly, ‘I’ll carry out my engagements as the ordinary person that I am, Wajid. I can only do this kind of thing because I like mingling with people and chatting to them.’

‘Princess Bariah would not have dreamt of lifting a crying child,’ the older man was reduced to telling her.

‘I am not Bariah. I grew up in a different society.’

‘One day soon you will be a queen and such familiarity from your subjects would seem disrespectful.’

Aware that a man old enough to be her grandfather was almost certain to cherish a less liberal viewpoint on suitable behaviour, Ruby dropped the subject. But she had not noticed Raja standing on ceremony with their guests at the reception the evening before. He had appeared equally friendly and courteous with everybody.

When she got back to the palace she was so tired she lay down. For quite some time she thought sadly about Leyla. The little girl had touched her heart and she was wishing that there were something she could do to help her before she finally fell asleep for several hours. She wakened when a maid knocked to deliver a garment bag. Unzipping it, she extracted an opulent sapphire-blue evening dress and high-heeled shoes. Her expression thoughtful, she checked the size of both.

Only minutes later, Raja joined her in the bedroom.

‘Did you organise this?’ she asked, extending the dress.

‘Yes. This evening you’ll be meeting friends and relatives of your late uncle and his family. You would feel ill-at-ease if you were underdressed in such a gathering,’ Raja forecast smoothly.

‘You even got my sizes right,’ Ruby remarked, thinking how very, very handsome he was, even when in need of a good shave, for dark stubble clearly accentuated the sensual curve of his sculpted mouth. ‘You’re obviously used to buying clothes for women.’

A slight frown at that remark drawing his ebony brows together, Raja swung fluidly away to remove his jacket and made no response.

But Ruby was not so easily deflected. ‘Are you in the habit of buying for your sisters?’

‘They do their own shopping,’ Raja admitted.

‘So, you are accustomed to buying clothes for the other women in your life,’ Ruby gathered, not a bit averse to making him uncomfortable if she could.

‘No comment. I’m glad you like the dress.’

Her brown eyes flamed amber. ‘Your hide is as tough as steel, isn’t it?’

‘I never said I was a virgin,’ Raja shot back at her with sardonic cool, his strong features taut.

‘Oh, I had already worked that out for myself,’ Ruby retorted, thinking of how smoothly he had seduced and bedded her.

In retrospect the level of his experience with her sex was obvious to her and to her annoyance that awareness loosed a whole flock of curious questions inside her head. How had she compared to his other lovers? Did he go for blondes, brunettes or redheads or any of the above? Would he even have found her attractive had she not been a long-lost and almost forgotten Ashuri princess? Every question of that ilk that crossed Ruby’s mind infuriated her. Why was she letting him make her feel insecure and vulnerable? Now that she knew the truth behind their consummated marriage, she would be better able to protect herself.

‘There will not be another woman in my bed while you remain my wife,’ Raja volunteered abruptly, his brilliant, dark eyes welded to her expressive face.

‘My goodness, do you think I care?’ Ruby forced a laugh and then plastered an amused and scornful smile to her lips. ‘I couldn’t care less what you do. I have to take account of the reality that we’re stuck with each other for the foreseeable future so there’s no sense in fighting every step of the way.’

‘You make a good point,’ Raja responded although outrage had shot flames of gold into his gaze when she declared that she didn’t care what he did.

‘And I’m not asking you to sleep on the sofa tonight and I’m not sleeping on it either. We’re adults. I’m asking you to respect that agreement you think is so foolish and forget that we ever had sex.’

Wonderment consumed Raja as she spoke. Forget about the sex? She stood there looking like every fantasy he had ever had in her little black dress with her beautiful eyes, sultry pink mouth and glorious legs tempting him and she thought he could easily return to treating her like a sexless stranger? He had deceived her by cloaking his true intentions, he reminded himself fiercely. This was the punishment, the payoff. He had to give her time to adjust to her new role.

‘I will do my best,’ Raja replied flatly.

He emanated angry vibrations and she wondered why that was. The need to get inside Raja’s head and understand what made him tick was, Ruby was discovering, a constant craving. Did he only want to make love to her because he thought that should be his right as a husband? Or would he have wanted her anyway just for herself? And why, when she had never planned to become intimate with him, should that distinction matter to her?

Later he did up the zip on the blue dress and it fit her like a tailor-made glove, the rich colour flattering her fair colouring. As she sat at the dressing table straightening her hair Raja came to her side and handed her a jewellery box. ‘It is a small gift.’

Ruby lifted the lid and stared down dumbstruck at the flawless glittering teardrop diamond on a pendant. Small wasn’t the right word. It was a big diamond and, although she knew next to nothing about the value of jewellery because she had never owned any beyond a wristwatch, she guessed that a diamond that large had to be worth a small fortune.

‘Thanks,’ she mumbled in shock.

‘Allow me.’ While she lifted her hair out of the way, Raja clasped the pendant at the nape of her neck. She shivered as his fingertips brushed her sensitive skin and that little knot of sexual hunger in the pit of her stomach tightened up a notch. ‘I would’ve given you earrings but your ears aren’t pierced.’

‘No, I’m a total unbelievable coward. I once went with a friend and she fainted when they did her ears. She bled all over the place too—it put me right off!’ Ruby confided, suddenly desperate to fill the awkward silence.

His shrewd, dark eyes screened in his reflection in the mirror, Raja rested a hand on her taut shoulder. ‘Ruby …’

‘My mother said my father chose my name, you know,’ she volunteered abruptly. ‘He said that a virtuous wife was worth more than rubies. It’s kind of insulting that the only future he could see for me was as someone’s wife.’

‘But I am grateful to have you as my wife.’

‘Only because I was part of the peace treaty,’ Ruby fielded, flatly unimpressed by that declaration. ‘Spoils of war and all that.’

Two weeks later, the night before Ruby’s first visit to Najar, Raja was enjoying a pleasant daydream. A century or so earlier had he acquired Ruby as the spoils of war, she would have belonged to him … utterly. It was a heady masculine fantasy to toy with while he was being driven to the orphanage that his wife had contrived to visit alone almost every evening since her initial official visit there. He had Wajid to thank for that information, for Ruby had kept very quiet about where she took off to during their rare moments of leisure.

Ruby took care not to share that time with him. It was yet another vote of no confidence from his wife, who was not his wife in any way that mattered, Raja conceded grimly. They might still share the same bed but she had placed a bolster pillow down the middle of it. That had made him laugh the first night, but within a week the comedy aspect had worn very thin.

His cell phone pinged with a message and he checked, frowning as the snap Chloe had put in of herself shone up at him, all blonde hair and a wide, perfect smile. Ruby did not possess that perfection of feature. Her nose turned up at the tip and she had the cutest little gap between her front teeth. Yet whenever he saw Ruby there was no one else in the room capable of commanding his attention. His handsome mouth curled as he read the suggestive text from his mistress. He had no desire to exchange sexy texts. That didn’t excite him. Chloe was becoming a liability. On the other hand if Ruby had felt the urge to send him a suggestive text he would have responded with imagination and enthusiasm, he acknowledged with self-derision. Unfortunately there was as much chance of a sext coming from Ruby as of Ashur sending a rocket to the moon.