Читать книгу Modern Romance Collection: May 2018 Books 5 - 8 - Кейт Хьюит - Страница 13

CHAPTER FOUR

REALISATION UPON REALISATION was crashing through Olivia, filling her with more and more horror. This was Prince Zayed, her friend’s fiancé, and she’d slept with him. And he’d thought she was Halina! He’d taken her from the palace believing her to be his bride-to-be. Had this been some sort of romantic seduction, and she’d botched it completely?

‘If you’re not Princess Halina,’ Zayed asked through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowed to silvery slits, every muscle tensing as if for a fight, ‘then who the hell are you?’

Olivia swallowed hard, her heart beating like a wild bird inside her chest. She clutched the blanket to her, more than ever conscious of her nakedness. ‘My name is Olivia Taylor. I’m governess to the Amari Princesses.’

He stared at her for a single second and then he swore, viciously and fluently. Olivia flinched, and wondered if his solemn vow not to hurt her still stood. She had a feeling it didn’t, although Zayed kept himself restrained, that pulsing fury leashed, if barely.

‘Why, then,’ he asked, his voice one of tightly controlled and yet clearly explosive anger, ‘did you sleep with me?’

‘I...’ There was no excuse, no explanation. She’d lost her head, her virginity to a stranger. And he’d thought he was bedding his future bride! Olivia closed her eyes, wanting to blot out her shame, erase everything that had happened in the last few hours.

And yet, with the flickers of pleasure still pulsing through her body, she couldn’t quite make herself regret it. In Zayed’s arms she’d felt so cherished; what a joke. He hadn’t even realised who she was. The knowledge of how she’d been duped, how she’d let herself be duped and talked herself into bed with a stranger, was utterly shaming.

‘I...’ she tried again, and then shrugged helplessly. She had no answer, except that she’d been completely swept away by the force of him, of her attraction to him, and she wasn’t courageous or stupid enough to admit that. Surely it had been obvious, anyway?

Zayed whirled away from her in one abrupt movement, raking a hand through his hair. ‘Didn’t you know who I was?’

‘No.’

‘And yet you slept with me.’

‘You slept with me,’ Olivia fired back, finding her courage. She wasn’t going to take all the blame. ‘And obviously you didn’t know who I was.’

‘Obviously.’ The single word was scathing. ‘But I would have expected you to correct my mistake, preferably before we’d said our vows.’

‘Vows?’ Olivia stared at him, dread seeping into her stomach like acid. ‘What do you mean—’

‘Unless,’ Zayed cut across her, ruthless now, any gentleness well and truly gone as his face, his body, his voice all hardened. ‘You meant this to happen?’

‘Meant it to happen?’ Olivia stared at him in outrage. ‘I meant for you to kidnap me? I planned it? Are you insane?’ She could hardly believe she was talking to a prince this way—she, meek Olivia Taylor—but the situation was so surreal, his suggestion so ludicrous and insulting, that for a moment she forgot who she was. Where she was. And even what had happened.

Zayed had the grace to look slightly abashed for a millisecond, and then he simply looked impatient. ‘No, not then, of course. But after. Perhaps you saw an opportunity and took it. You wanted to better your situation. You said you were a governess?’

Olivia shook her head. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ She felt furious and humiliated, and she really wished she were wearing some clothes. ‘And I certainly don’t see how I’ve bettered my situation.’

Zayed’s mouth twisted in something like a sneer. ‘Don’t you?’

‘No, I really don’t. But since I’m not Halina, and you’re not kidnapping me for ransom or something like that, perhaps you could see fit to return me to the palace.’ She spoke with as much as dignity as she could muster, considering she was naked. And near tears, which thankfully she blinked back. She would not cry in front of this man, even if she’d already wept in his arms. Even if she’d already experienced more vulnerability and pleasure, more heights and depths, than she had with any other person, ever. Just the memory of how he’d felt inside her, how she’d felt in his arms, the completeness of it, made heat scorch through her, along with something more powerful and dangerous, a longing she could not bear to name. ‘I would like to go back home,’ she added stiffly.

Zayed stared at her unblinkingly for several long, taut moments. ‘Clearly,’ he said finally, his voice clipped, ‘that is impossible at this juncture.’

‘Clearly?’ Olivia tried for a look of disdain. ‘I don’t see how that is at all clear.’ Holding the blanket to her, she scooted out of bed and grabbed the diaphanous robe she’d refused to wear earlier in the evening. Her more modest robe was on the other side of the bed, where Zayed had tossed it after undressing her only a short while ago—it felt like a lifetime. A terrible lifetime. She shrugged into the robe, tying the sash as tightly as she could. It wasn’t much coverage, but at least it was something. She folded her arms over her breasts and lifted her chin, giving Zayed as challenging a stare as she could. ‘So why exactly can’t you return me to Abkar?’

Zayed’s gaze was penetrating, relentless. His mouth had thinned into a hard, unforgiving line, his eyes blazing steel. Anger and animosity rolled off him in thick, choking waves. How on earth had she ever thought he was gentle? ‘I don’t know what game you are playing,’ he said, each precise word feeling like a threat, ‘but I advise that you cease immediately. This is no laughing matter, Miss Taylor. Millions of lives are at stake.’

Millions of lives? Surely that was an exaggeration, yet Olivia wasn’t about to debate the point. She could see well enough how grim Zayed looked.

‘I’m hardly laughing,’ she answered levelly. ‘You’re the one who took me from the palace, Prince Zayed. You’re the one who—’ Her breath rushed out. Seduced me. She couldn’t say the words. She’d been so stupidly willing, so eager, to be seduced. It beggared belief now, but only moments ago she’d been putty in his arms, wanting only to be moulded to whatever shape he chose. Still she met his gaze. ‘I didn’t ask for any of this.’

‘Not at first, perhaps.’ He took a step towards her, a different kind of fire in his eyes, one Olivia recognised, and it made her catch her breath. Even now, he could feel it. She could. The banked heat in his eyes flared to life and she felt its answer scorch through her. ‘But later, Olivia,’ he said, his voice low and menacing. ‘Later you weren’t asking. You were begging.’

She hated him. Officially, she hated him. Even as she felt the pulse of desire go through her, an insistent throb, she hated him. Damn her treacherous body. She knew Zayed saw it too, from the way his lip curled and his eyes travelled down her body, raking her in one scathing glance. A short while ago he’d made her feel cherished and important, and now he was making her feel tawdry and cheap, more than she ever had before. Everything about this was awful.

‘I regret everything that happened between us this evening,’ she said stiffly. ‘More than you can possibly imagine.’

‘You cannot regret it more than I do,’ Zayed snapped. He swore again, turning away from her. ‘Dear heaven, do you know what this is going to cost? Everything.’ His voice choked and for a second he covered his face with his hands. ‘Everything.’

Watching him, Olivia saw a man in torment and she didn’t fully understand it. She had a bizarre yet deep-seated urge to comfort him, to make it better. ‘Is it because you—you have been unfaithful to Halina? I don’t think she expects such fidelity until you’re wed. You haven’t even met. She’ll understand.’ She probably wouldn’t care. She hadn’t wanted to marry Zayed in the first place.

‘Unfaithful?’ He dropped his hands and let out a bark of humourless laughter. ‘I have not merely been unfaithful.’

‘You mean because you kidnapped me,’ she said slowly, as reality caught up with her. ‘And Sultan Hassan will know you meant to kidnap his daughter. He might call the engagement off.’ He would be angry, she supposed, but that angry? She liked her employer, found him to be generous and carelessly affectionate, but she knew he had a strong and unwavering core of honour and dignity. She had no idea how he’d react to what Zayed had done.

‘Might?’ Zayed turned around to face her, his expression one of weary scorn. ‘There is no might. He most certainly will. He will be furious that I dared to try to take his precious daughter. That I slipped through his defences.’

‘How did you? Why were the gates open when we left?’

Zayed shrugged. ‘A cousin of a cousin is one of the guards. He has been my spy for years. He made sure the gates were open to me.’

No, Sultan Hassan would not like that. He would be furious that someone had breached his security, and also threatened and maybe even a little scared by how seemingly easily it had been done. Unless...

‘They might not even know I’m gone,’ Olivia said slowly. She could hardly believe she was trying to help him, this man whom had taken so much from her, whom she had told herself she hated. Perhaps it was simply that ever-present urge she had to be helpful. Needed. Or perhaps it was the connection they shared, whether they wanted to or not. They’d been lovers. It was not something she would forget easily, or ever. ‘If no one saw your men come or go...’

‘How would they not know you’re gone?’ Zayed demanded. ‘You were in the next room from the Princess. Someone would come looking for you.’

‘Not necessarily.’ It hurt a little to admit it, but Olivia ploughed on. ‘I’m the governess, Prince Zayed, not one of the Princesses, and it was late. Princess Halina might be annoyed that I didn’t say goodnight to her, but she would have assumed I’d gone to bed. No one will miss me till morning.’

Outside the tent silvery-pink light streaked the sky. It was just coming on to dawn and they were several hours’ ride from the palace. ‘You could return me,’ she pressed, surprised and a little alarmed by the weird shaft of disappointment that went through her at that prospect. Surely this was the best solution, what she wanted? What she had to want? No other option made sense. ‘And no one would be the wiser,’ she added.

‘And you wouldn’t say anything?’ He looked disbelieving. ‘You wouldn’t tell your employer of your kidnapping?’

‘I do not wish people to know what has happened as much as you,’ Olivia returned. The thought of Halina learning what she’d done with her fiancé... Olivia’s stomach swooped. How could she have been so stupid? So utterly reckless? She’d never acted like that before in her life. ‘Surely you can understand that?’ she challenged Zayed, her voice rising a little.

‘Yes, of course, but...’

For a second Zayed looked tempted. Torn. To make this all go away...they both wanted that. Of course they did. But yet again she felt that inexplicable disappointment flickering through her. Zayed shook his head. ‘No, it is impossible.’

‘Why?’ The word burst out of Olivia and that flicker of disappointment faded away. She couldn’t turn back the clock, but returning to Abkar was the next best thing, especially if her abduction hadn’t yet been remarked upon. In a few hours she could be in her own bed and she could put the memory of this night completely behind her as if it had never happened...even if she knew she would never, ever forget it, or the feel of being in Zayed’s arms.

‘For many reasons,’ Zayed said shortly. ‘None of which you seem to have taken into consideration.’

‘Then perhaps you could enlighten me,’ Olivia snapped as her patience started to fray. She never spoke out like this, but some strange courage seemed to have taken hold of her. ‘Instead of treating me like some sort of imbecile.’

* * *

Zayed stared at the woman he’d wed—his bride—with a mixture of frustration and despair. This was a complete disaster, one he was still reeling from. And yet, reeling as he was, a leaden weight had settled in his stomach, making him realise this could not be undone as easily as Olivia seemed to think. Of course it couldn’t.

‘Because too many people know. The Sultan’s soldiers, my own people, the imam.’ Who, at his instruction, would have shared the news throughout Kalidar that he had wedded and bedded Princess Halina. He had wanted the news to spread to strengthen his claim. He had never envisioned something like this happening.

‘The imam?’ She stared at him, stormy eyes narrowing. ‘What imam?’

Impatience bit at him, chasing the fury and fear. ‘The man who married us, of course.’

Olivia’s mouth dropped open in wordless shock. ‘Married? But...’

Zayed stared at her, yet another unwelcome realisation flashing through him. ‘You didn’t know.’ It was a statement, and one that was confirmed by the emphatic shake of her head. ‘You don’t speak Arabic,’ he stated flatly. No wonder she had seemed so confused during their rushed wedding. He’d assumed she’d just been overwhelmed by events, but she hadn’t actually known what was going on. Known that he’d been hurrying her into a binding, lifelong commitment.

For the first time he felt a flash of true shame for the way he’d treated her. His instinct was to blame her for not having revealed her true identity, and it was one he couldn’t let go of easily. He still suspected her motives, her ambition. Why hadn’t she said anything all evening long? That part still didn’t make sense.

But he’d never actually said who he was. He’d simply assumed she knew. Just as he’d assumed she’d realised they were marrying. ‘Say yes,’ he’d told her, impatient to have the thing done. And so she had. An uncomfortable and unwelcome sensation of guilt trumped his suspicions for the moment.

Olivia dropped onto the bed, her robe flying out, revealing tempting glimpses of golden skin. Zayed looked away. Now was not the time for desire. ‘How?’ she whispered. ‘How can we be married?’

‘Easily. You said the vows, as did I.’

‘I said yes...’

‘Exactly.’

‘But if I didn’t know what I was doing, if I didn’t realise, surely it can be annulled?’

Zayed gestured to the rumpled bed. ‘Considering what we have just done? The entire camp knows what has transpired here tonight. Our marriage has been consummated. Most thoroughly.’

Olivia’s cheeks went pink and she looked away. Zayed felt a stab of pity for her. He’d taken her innocence. She’d given it willingly enough, but still. It was a hard burden for a woman to bear, especially in this culture. And, he realised, she was not acting as if she expected to benefit from it. Surely she should be insisting he honour his vows rather than suggesting he seek an annulment? Unless she was playing a long game.

‘Are you promised to someone else?’ he asked, and she looked up in surprise.

‘Promised?’ She let out a short laugh. ‘No. There’s no one like that. There never has been. Obviously.’ She looked away. ‘You could set me aside, of course,’ she said in a low voice. ‘A divorce. It’s done often enough by men of power.’

And would bring her even more shame. Zayed shook his head. ‘I am a man of honour.’ Besides, he could not instigate a divorce without first knowing where he stood with Sultan Hassan.

‘Are you?’ Olivia challenged him shakily. ‘Because a man of honour would not, it seems to me, abduct a woman and then take her virtue.’

Again he felt this guilt, along with a cleaner, stronger anger. ‘I thought,’ Zayed bit out, ‘you were my bride.’

‘And I suppose you think that makes it acceptable? I would say even less so, then.’

‘I was intending to consummate a marriage that has been planned for nearly twenty years,’ Zayed snapped. ‘I admit, taking Princess Halina from her palace bedroom might seem like a drastic action, but I assure you, it was necessary.’

‘Necessary? Why?’

He didn’t really want to go into all the reasons behind the politics, not now when he was still reeling, his mind spinning, seeking answers when he feared there were none. He was married, and he’d made sure it was done in a way that was legal, binding and permanent. The trouble was, he’d married the wrong woman.

How could he have been so stupid? So rash? The events of the evening blurred in his mind; he’d been fuelled by both determination and desperation, needing to get it done, and quickly. So he had.

In one abrupt movement Zayed strode to the table and poured himself a healthy measure of arak. From behind him Olivia laughed softly.

‘That’s what got us into this trouble in the first place.’

‘What do you mean?’ He tossed it down in one burning swallow and then turned around. ‘Are you saying you wouldn’t have slept with me if you hadn’t been drunk?’ Another reason to be appalled by his own behaviour.

‘I wasn’t drunk.’ Olivia glanced down. ‘But my inhibitions were loosened, I suppose.’

Zayed thought of the way she’d arched and writhed beneath him, drawing him into her body, begging him to continue. Yes, they certainly had been loosened. And so had his. For a little while he’d lost sight of himself, and all he needed to achieve, when he’d been in Olivia’s arms. When he’d felt the sweet purity of her response. It had pierced him like an arrow, it had shattered his defences, but thankfully he’d been quick to build them back up again.

And now he needed to think. He poured himself another measure of arak and sat down to drink it slowly, his mind starting to click into gear. ‘Why were you in Princess Halina’s bedroom, as a matter of interest?’

Olivia looked at him warily, as if suspecting a trap. Perhaps there was one. He had to know if she was hiding something. Had she known of the plot—had she positioned herself to be taken? Perhaps she’d been acting on Halina’s behalf; Zayed had heard that his bride was less than enthused about their nuptials. Or maybe Olivia had seen a chance to better her seemingly small prospects and become Queen. The truth was, he knew nothing about her, and he had every reason to suspect her motives and actions. What gently reared woman fell into bed with a stranger without even asking his name or telling him her own? And not a just a stranger but a man who had kidnapped her, for heaven’s sake. Olivia’s actions bordered on incredible in the truest sense of the word.

‘I was putting her clothes away,’ she said after a pause.

‘You said you were a governess, not a maid.’

Olivia shrugged, her robe sliding off her shoulder. ‘Lina and I were friends in school. That’s how I got the position. I was in her sitting room, talking with her after she’d returned from dinner, and tidying up as I did it. Nothing unusual, really.’

‘Where was Halina?’

‘Sitting on the sofa. She was in the next room when you came in through the window. I could hear her humming.’ Olivia shook her head slowly, her eyes wide. ‘This all feels so completely surreal.’

And yet, unfortunately for both of them, it wasn’t. He hadn’t even seen Halina. In truth, he’d only had eyes for Olivia. Even through the blur of binoculars he’d been arrested by her slender form, her movements of efficient grace. And yet...

‘You look like her.’

Olivia frowned. ‘You think I look like her? No.’ She shook her head. ‘Not really. A pale shadow, perhaps.’

A pale shadow? It was a revealing choice of words. ‘You have the same colouring,’ he continued. ‘Dark hair...’

‘Halina is much prettier than I am,’ Olivia insisted. ‘Her hair is darker and wavier and...’ She paused, biting her lip, and Zayed raised his eyebrows, curious now.

‘And?’

‘Her figure is...curvier.’ Olivia flushed. ‘Everyone thinks she is very beautiful.’ The implication seemed to be that they thought Olivia was not. Yet Zayed had enjoyed her curves, slight as they were, and her hair—a deep, rich brown—was dark enough for him. Although, now that he was studying her properly, not blinded by the wilful determination he’d felt earlier, he saw that Olivia was right. She resembled Halina only to a small degree. Her colouring was lighter, more European, and she was a bit taller as well as slenderer. Even he could see that, having only glimpsed Halina in blurry photos. So why hadn’t he realised it earlier? Because he’d been too focused. Too desperate.

‘You don’t speak Arabic,’ he recalled slowly. ‘And your name sounds English. Where were you raised?’

‘All over the world. My father was British, a diplomat. We moved every few years to a new posting and then I went to boarding school with Halina in England. My mother was Spanish.’

Was. ‘You are an orphan?’

Olivia nodded. ‘My mother died when I was small, my father five years ago when I was seventeen. Since I was a friend of Halina’s, Sultan Hassan took me under his protection. It was very kind of him.’ Zayed nodded slowly. Hassan had presumably taken Olivia on as a paid employee. It wasn’t quite the same, yet Olivia seemed grateful.

He took a sip of arak, needing his senses blunted even if he knew he couldn’t afford the luxury. His mind moved in circles, seeking a way out of this trap he’d unwittingly made for himself, but all he felt was it tightening inexorably.

‘So people know we’re married,’ Olivia said slowly. ‘Too many people, it seems. What...what will this mean for you? And for Kalidar?’

‘I don’t know.’ He glanced at her from beneath his lashes, suspicious all over again. She seemed too good to be true—innocent and helpful and eager to please, caring more for his situation than her own. Was she hoping to become the next Queen of Kalidar? Not that he could offer her that much yet. He had tents in the desert and a small cadre of loyal men. In ten years he had not left the barren desert of his country; he had not wanted to give Malouf an opportunity to seize even more power or let his men think he’d abandoned them. If Olivia was hoping for a life of luxury and ease, it would be a long time coming...but it would come. Was she banking on that? Or had she sacrificed herself for Halina’s sake?

What did she want?

‘I’m sorry,’ Olivia said after a moment, her voice soft and sad, and Zayed let out a harsh huff of laughter. Now he really was suspicious. She was laying it on a bit thick, her concern for him and his country, when he’d taken her innocence and ruined her reputation.

‘You’re sorry?’

She hunched one slender shoulder. ‘You have more to lose than I do. That’s what you meant by “millions,” isn’t it? The people of Kalidar. This marriage—marriage to Halina—was important to you politically. Wasn’t it?’ She searched his face, her expression both guileless and compassionate. ‘I don’t know the details, of course.’

‘You don’t need to know them.’

‘But what will you do if you cannot marry Halina?’ Olivia’s eyes were round, her hair tousled, her lips parted. Even now she looked desirable, and Zayed wanted her all over again.

He suppressed that painful stab of inconvenient desire. Was this her ploy, to get him to admit that he had to stay married to her? Because he wouldn’t do it. He’d make her no promises. He’d made far too many already. ‘I don’t know what I will do,’ Zayed said shortly. ‘I have to think.’ He looked away, a muscle working in his throat, a pain lodging in his chest like a cold, hard stone. This marriage had been essential. Without it...without it...

He had to get out of this marriage. He had to make it right with Sultan Hassan. Anything else would be failure, doom for his kingship, his country. Far too much was at stake for him to worry about the finer feelings of one forgettable woman.

Zayed rose from his seat while Olivia watched with wide eyes, apprehension visible in every taut line of her body. ‘Where are you going?’

‘Out,’ Zayed said brusquely. ‘I need to think.’

‘But what...what am I meant to do?’

He raked her with one deliberately dismissive glance, determined not to care about this woman to even the smallest degree. He still suspected her. How could he not? To have fallen into bed with him... Maybe he was being judgemental, but he had to be. Too much was at stake for him to trust her an inch.

‘You can do what you like,’ he informed her. ‘Get some sleep, stay in the tent or wander around. I wouldn’t go far, though. Outside this camp there is nothing but barren desert for a hundred miles in any direction. You wouldn’t last long, Miss Taylor.’

And, with that parting warning, he stalked out of the tent.