Читать книгу Modern Romance Collection: May 2018 Books 5 - 8 - Кейт Хьюит - Страница 20

CHAPTER ELEVEN

‘HERE YOU ARE.’

Olivia took the slim rectangular box and tried not to gulp as she stared down at the lettering on its front. Zayed met her uncertain gaze evenly, his face completely bland, grey-green eyes shuttered. She’d spent all last night lost in his arms, seeking and finding pleasure after pleasure and joy after joy, but right now she had no idea what he was thinking or feeling, and she lacked the courage to ask him. A depressing thought, considering how wonderfully intimate last night had been—far more than the last two occasions they had come together.

Even now, with Zayed standing so fathomlessly in front of her, Olivia remembered how tenderly he’d held her, the Arabic endearments he’d murmured in her ear, the way he’d touched her, so reverently, as if she were a cherished treasure...and that was how she’d felt. She’d slept in his arms all night and woken in the morning with the biggest smile on her face and in her heart.

This moment was another proposition entirely.

‘Should I...?’ She glanced down at the rather lurid pink and blue writing on the side of the box. ‘Should I take it now?’

‘I don’t see why not.’ Zayed’s voice was as bland as his face, yet in both she detected an intensity that alarmed her. Was he dreading the possibility of her being pregnant that much? If she was pregnant, would he feel trapped, tied to her in a way he might hate?

‘Right.’ Her numb fingers closed around the box. ‘Well, then...’

He nodded towards the en-suite bathroom. ‘I’ll wait here.’

Wordlessly Olivia nodded, then she turned and made for the bathroom, closing the door behind her with a final-sounding click. She laid the box on the edge of the sink, willing her heart rate to slow and her nerves to steady. She was so nervous, and she had a terrible feeling it was because she was scared she wasn’t pregnant. That she’d be sent away. Or was she worried that she was pregnant and would be made to stay? The trouble was, Olivia didn’t know which she felt. Everything was a churning, mixed-up jumble inside her, and Zayed’s inscrutable face and tone weren’t helping.

Still, there was no point analysing her emotions until she knew the truth of the matter. Taking a deep breath, Olivia opened the box.

Three minutes later she turned over the test she’d taken to read the results, her nerves and hand both surprisingly steady. Three minutes had been an agony to wait, but now that the time had come she felt calmer because she knew she wanted to know, needed to know, for her own sake, her own sanity. She couldn’t take any more limbo. Even so, the single line, stark and vivid, felt like a smack in the face, a fist to the gut.

One line. Not pregnant.

Olivia sank down onto the edge of the sunken tub, her heart plummeting like a stone. Disappointment. That was what she felt now—like a tidal wave crashing over her and pulling her under. Total, sick disappointment. Tears stung her eyes and, impatient with herself, she blinked them away. This was a good thing. It had to be.

If she’d been pregnant, Zayed would have felt honour-bound to keep her as his wife, and theirs would have been a marriage of expediency and growing resentment, hardly the kind of environment in which to raise a child, never mind find her own happiness.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Yes, this was better. Even if her heart now felt like a leaden weight inside her, dragging her down.

‘Olivia?’ Zayed rapped on the door. ‘Surely you must have taken the test by now?’

‘Yes.’ She couldn’t let the disappointment show on her face, Olivia realised with a jolt of panic. That would be far too humiliating, to have Zayed realise she’d wanted his baby. She’d wanted to stay. ‘Yes, I’ve taken it.’

‘Well?’ Zayed sounded impatient, and Olivia couldn’t tell if there was any other emotion underneath that, hope or fear or something else.

‘I’m coming out.’ She glanced at the test one last time, the single, stark line, and then threw it into the bin. As she washed her hands she gave herself a silent and stern talking-to in the mirror.

This is for the best. It really is. You know that, Olivia, in your head, if not in your heart. You wouldn’t want Zayed to feel trapped. You wouldn’t want to feel trapped.

‘Olivia,’ Zayed prompted, a definite edge to his voice. She opened the door. His narrowed gaze scanned her from head to foot, assessing. ‘Well?’

‘I’m not pregnant,’ Olivia said quietly. Thankfully her voice was steady, as were her hands, which she folded in front of her.

‘You’re not?’ Zayed sounded surprised. ‘But...’

‘But what? This was the most likely outcome, really.’ She made her mouth turn up in a smile. ‘It’s a relief for both of us, I’m sure.’

‘Yes.’ Zayed’s lips pressed together in a firm line. ‘Yes,’ he said again.

Olivia took a deep breath, willing this moment onward. ‘So,’ she said, prompting him to make that painful cut she knew was necessary. Zayed simply stared at her, eyes still narrowed. ‘You will resume negotiations with Sultan Hassan,’ Olivia continued. ‘And I will...’ She paused, wondering just what she would do. Where she would go from here. The future felt like a void. ‘I’ll make my plans.’

Zayed’s eyes narrowed further, to silvery-green slits. ‘And what plans are you thinking of making?’

Olivia tilted her chin. ‘That’s not your concern any more, is it?’

‘You’re my wife. Of course it’s my concern.’

‘Don’t, Zayed.’ She didn’t think she could take one of his autocratic dictates right now, never mind his playing the marriage card. ‘You know I’m not your wife like that.’ Never like that.

‘You’re my wife in every way possible at the moment,’ Zayed returned. ‘Or have you forgotten last night?’ Heat simmered in his eyes and Olivia felt as if the very air between them had tautened.

Olivia knew she’d live with the memory of last night for the rest of her life. ‘Of course I haven’t.’

‘Until this issue is resolved to my satisfaction, you will make no plans,’ Zayed ordered.

‘Your satisfaction?’ Was he actually going to keep her prisoner? She didn’t think she could bear it. ‘And what about mine?’

‘And yours,’ Zayed allowed. ‘I will make sure you are provided for, no matter what. But we are not finished here, Olivia. Not yet.’

‘How can we not be?’ His words, flatly delivered as they were, offered her a shred of hope that she knew she should refuse. Far better for him to release her, free her, so she could start to recover and heal. Staying with him would prolong the agony of wanting something she now knew she could never have. ‘You need to focus on Princess Halina,’ Olivia pressed on. ‘And Sultan Hassan. I’m no help there, Zayed.’

‘You might be. Princess Halina might want to speak with you.’

‘And do you want that?’ she challenged. What on earth could she say to Halina that her friend wanted to hear? The conversation would be devastating for them both.

‘In any case,’ Zayed said, ‘Sultan Hassan has taken Halina to Italy and is refusing my messages as well as any possible meeting. I cannot resume any marriage negotiations at the moment.’

She stared at him, surprised at how unperturbed he seemed by the situation, when he’d already told her more than once how essential this marriage alliance was. ‘Then...what will you do?’

Zayed stared at her for a long moment, his gaze considering. Olivia held her breath, although she wasn’t even sure why. It felt as if they were on the precipice of something important, but what?

‘I rather thought,’ he said slowly, ‘I might stay married to you.’

The words echoed through her, reverberating for several endless moments. ‘You rather thought?’ she repeated in numb disbelief, even as she tried to tamp down the absurd happiness spiralling inside her. ‘Do I have no say in the matter, then?’

‘Of course you do.’ Impatience flickered across Zayed’s face and then he deliberately relaxed, offered her a smile. ‘That’s why I’m discussing it with you now.’

Olivia blew out a breath. ‘I didn’t realise this was a discussion.’

‘Let’s not quibble about semantics.’ He crossed the room to sit on a divan by the window, one leg elegantly crossed over the other. ‘Let’s have a reasonable, measured conversation.’

About marriage. Because, of course, this was going to be a business arrangement, just like his marriage to Halina would have been.

‘All right.’ Olivia moved over to the sofa flanking his and sank onto it. ‘Tell me what you’re considering, then.’

* * *

Zayed glanced at Olivia; she sat with her ankles crossed and her hands folded in her lap, like a nun awaiting her orders. Zayed knew he needed to handle this with both care and sensitivity. What seemed obvious and easy to him would not necessarily be so to Olivia.

‘It’s come to my attention that having a western wife with a background in diplomacy is no bad thing.’

‘A background in diplomacy?’ Her eyebrows rose. ‘I’d hardly give myself so much credit. My father was a diplomat, yes, a minor one, but I never was.’

‘Still, you speak several languages; you’ve lived in many countries. Whether you realise it or not, Olivia, you are a woman of the world.’

She looked away, colour touching her cheeks. ‘With very little experience of anything.’

‘You were as at ease with the tribe’s women a few weeks ago as you were with Serrat last night. Your lack of worldly experience does not discredit you.’

She shook her head, her gaze still averted. ‘What of the marriage alliance that was so essential to you?’

‘I took a risk when I attempted to kidnap Princess Halina. A knowing risk. It hasn’t worked out, so I can look elsewhere.’

‘Elsewhere?’

‘To France and other European countries. If they support my claim, I don’t need Hassan.’

‘You don’t need me, either.’

‘Not in the same way, perhaps,’ Zayed said after a moment. Jahmal had raised the same issue when Zayed had broached his proposition a few days ago. Surely, his aide had argued, there were other, more suitable women to be the Sultan’s bride? In Jahmal’s eyes Olivia was still nothing but a servant, even though Zayed knew he’d come both to like and admire her over the last few weeks.

Olivia turned back to face him, resolute now. ‘In what way, Zayed?’ she asked quietly. ‘In what way do you need me?’

It felt like a loaded question. Was she acting from the practical, pragmatic viewpoint he was determined to keep with regard to marriage, or was she asking about something more? About need...the way he’d needed her last night? Love, even? Zayed couldn’t tell anything from her face; her eyes were a stormy blue, her mouth compressed.

‘We are already married,’ he said, knowing he was prevaricating but unsure how to deal with her in this mood. She seemed very quiet and self-contained, her head slightly bowed.

‘Yes, but you were willing to set me aside before. Why not now?’

Zayed felt an uncomfortable twinge of guilt at those simply stated words. Yes, he’d been willing to put her aside. He’d had to be. But he felt differently now...and he realised he didn’t particularly like Olivia asking him why.

‘I’ve seen the advantages of our alliance,’ he finally said. ‘And since we are already married, and divorce or annulment is no small matter, it makes sense to stay married. Besides,’ he added, watching her, ‘we have a certain chemistry, do we not? That is no small thing.’

‘I wouldn’t know,’ Olivia answered shortly.

‘Nor perhaps would I,’ Zayed agreed with a small smile. He longed to lighten her mood; he wanted her to be happy about this, damn it. ‘Before you, Olivia, I had not been with a woman since my days at Cambridge.’

He’d surprised her with that. ‘Ten years? I know you said it had been a long time...’

‘As long as that.’ He shrugged. ‘My point is, we are good together. You are an asset to me.’

‘As asset,’ she repeated, and he had a feeling he’d chosen the wrong word.

‘I would be honoured,’ he said a bit tightly, ‘to have you as my wife.’

A tiny smile curved her mouth, lightened her eyes. ‘Is that a proposal?’

‘After the fact, but yes.’ He waited, feeling tenser than he wanted to be. Her answer mattered to him very much. He’d been hoping she was pregnant, and then there would have needed to be no discussion. The matter would have been resolved. As it was, he needed to convince her of the merits of their marriage. And if she said no? Would he let her go? The possibility caused him an unexpectedly strong wrench of feeling.

Olivia pursed her lips, her expression distant. ‘What kind of marriage would we have?’ she asked after a long, taut moment of waiting.

‘The kind anyone has. A real marriage in every sense of the word.’

‘Real?’ She finally met his gaze, her own startlingly direct. ‘A real marriage means a loving one.’

He recoiled a little, unable to keep himself from it. ‘Is that what you want? Love?’

Her mouth twisted in a sad smile. ‘I’ve dreamed of it, yes. I think most young girls do.’

‘True.’ He hesitated, wanting to appease her but knowing he could make no promises to love her. None at all.

‘I know you don’t love me, Zayed,’ Olivia said. She almost sounded gentle. ‘I’m not expecting you to proclaim your love or something like that.’ She laughed softly. ‘The expression on your face! You look horrified.’

Zayed tried to school his features into something more appropriate. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’s all right.’ She sighed and leaned back against the sofa. ‘I just have to consider if it’s something I’m willing to give up.’

‘There are worse things than being a slave to such an emotion.’

She glanced at him curiously. ‘Is that how you see it? As some form of slavery?’

Zayed shrugged. ‘It traps you. Takes you hostage.’

‘You’ve been in love, then?’

‘No, not romantically. But I’ve lost people I’ve loved, and I don’t want to feel that...vulnerable again.’ His hands tightened into fists. He felt vulnerable enough just admitting that much.

Olivia nodded slowly. ‘I suppose I can understand that.’

‘Can you?’ He felt a wave of relief, then a flicker of hope. ‘Then...?’

‘I need to think about it,’ Olivia said. ‘We’re talking about a life decision, Zayed, not something to be decided in a moment.’

‘Of course.’

‘Although I understand your need to have this issue resolved as quickly as possible.’

He smiled, letting it linger. ‘Your understanding is very considerate, Olivia.’

She smiled back, and there it was, the spark that always seemed to be snapping between them, kindling into flame. He wanted her all over again, and he let her see it in his eyes.

‘We would be good together, Olivia. We are good together.’

‘In that way,’ she murmured, looking away. ‘Yes.’

‘It is not to be discounted.’ He paused, wanting to convince her, to seal the deal, no matter what she said about needing to think. ‘I believe I could make you happy.’ He realised as he spoke the words that he meant them. He could make her happy and, moreover, he wanted to make her happy. Over the last few weeks he’d enjoyed seeing that shy smile bloom across her face. Last night he’d loved feeling her come alive in his arms. She’d lived a quiet, sheltered life, a life of restraint and shadows. He would be able to give her so much more once he was restored to his throne. And he would be restored. Soon. Very soon.

Olivia nodded, seeming lost in thought, her gaze averted from his. Zayed wished he knew what she was thinking. He wished he knew how to convince her.

‘Why don’t you come with me tomorrow?’ he said impulsively. Olivia at least turned back to look at him.

‘Come with you? Where?’

‘I’m touring some nearby villages, to reassure the people.’

Olivia frowned. ‘Should you really have me accompany you when it hasn’t been decided?’

Probably not, but Zayed wanted her there. Wanted to show his people as well as Olivia herself that she could be his Queen. That she was his Queen.

‘It would be an opportunity for you to see what your role would be, and for my people to see you.’

‘And if we dissolve the marriage...?’

He shrugged. ‘Then I will explain.’ He leaned forward, urgent now. ‘But give us a chance, Olivia. Give Kalidar a chance.’

Olivia let out a long, low breath and nodded slowly. ‘All right,’ she said, and it sounded like a concession rather than something she might look forward to. ‘I’ll go with you.’