Читать книгу Modern Romance Collection: May 2018 Books 5 - 8 - Кейт Хьюит - Страница 21

CHAPTER TWELVE

THE WIND WHIPPED Olivia’s hair away from her face as the Jeep bumped over the desert dunes. They’d touched down in a helicopter an hour ago and had been travelling steadily since then under a bright blue sky and lemon-yellow sun. After the cool alpine temperatures at Rubyhan, the desert heat felt overwhelming, like entering a furnace. At least the breeze from the open-top Jeep helped.

Besides being hot, Olivia felt bone-achingly tired. She had barely slept at all last night, her mind going round in dizzying circles as she considered Zayed’s ‘proposal,’ unromantic and businesslike as it had been. What had she been expecting? That he’d confess he’d fallen in love with her? She’d known all along Zayed wasn’t interested in that. His duty was to his country and his people and, if marriage to her helped those two things, then he would pursue it.

But would she?

That was the question she was afraid to answer. Afraid to want.

Zayed glanced back at her, a reassuring smile curving his mouth, his eyes glinting in the harsh desert light. ‘We will be there soon.’ He touched her hand briefly, and even that sent sparks racing along her nerve endings. No, she supposed, just as Zayed had said, their physical chemistry was not to be underestimated. But was it enough?

The Jeep continued to bump along and Olivia leaned back against the seat, closing her eyes against the stunning view and the questions that thudded relentlessly through her. She had no answers, which was why she hadn’t had any sleep last night.

After another twenty minutes or so the Jeep slowed down and Olivia opened her eyes to see they were on the edge of a small village of single storey, mud-brick dwellings. Most of the village had come out to greet them, wide smiles and curious eyes for their future King and the woman accompanying him. His future Queen. Could she really be that person? Did she want to be?

Zayed got out of the Jeep first, waving at the crowd who had gathered before turning to open the door for Olivia.

‘Who will they think I am?’ she whispered as she took his hand and clambered out of the vehicle.

‘My Queen,’ Zayed said simply. ‘Because that is who you are.’

‘Zayed...’ This was not the place to discuss the future, yet already Olivia felt trapped; a noose, tempting as it was, was tightening about her neck. Had Zayed invited her along today so it would be harder to back out? The more people who saw her as his Queen, the more she’d see herself that way? And the more people she’d disappoint if she walked away from all of this.

Such thoughts were swept away as Zayed led her to the crowd. She waved and saw the women sigh or look speculative; clearly everyone was wondering. But she couldn’t let herself worry about that as the day went on and they moved from one festivity to another, inspecting a newly built school, listening to children sing, having glasses of tea with the head of the tribe.

By late afternoon Olivia was feeling tired and a bit overwhelmed, but also surprisingly happy. She had a role here, and one she was surprisingly good at. She liked chatting to people—her Arabic had improved over the last few weeks—and entering into their lives. After a lifetime spent in the shadows, she was finally, wonderfully, stepping into the light, in all sorts of ways, thanks to Zayed. Who would ever have thought a kidnapping would lead to self-awareness and fulfilment? And yet she knew now, whatever the future held, she would be a better, braver person for it...thanks to Zayed.

By nightfall she was ready to crawl into bed and sleep for hours. The women of the village had brought her to the finest house, and in it to a bedroom that was surprisingly sumptuous, considering how little the people of the village had. Olivia thanked them and then began to undress. She’d just taken off her headscarf and slipped out of the traditional kaftan she’d worn when the door to the bedroom opened.

Olivia whirled around, clutching the kaftan to her. ‘Zayed...’ His name came out in a surprised rush. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Sleeping, as are you.’

‘But...’ She shook her head slowly. ‘Then the people of the village know we are married?’

‘It would seem so.’ He seemed remarkably unperturbed.

‘Did you tell them?’

‘I did not tell them otherwise.’

Olivia sank onto the bed, the kaftan still clutched to her chest. ‘Are you making it harder for me to say no?’

Zayed shrugged out of the linen thobe he wore, revealing his bronzed, muscled chest in all its perfection. ‘Maybe,’ he admitted, eyes glinting. ‘As I’ve said before, Olivia, we’re good together.’

‘In bed.’ She spoke flatly.

‘In all ways. Today, for example. You were in your element out there.’ His glinting gaze turned penetrating as he looked at her. ‘You enjoyed it, didn’t you? Talking to people, listening and learning? You’ve spent all of your adult life as a servant, silent and obedient, but you don’t need to be like that any more.’

It was so close to what she’d been thinking earlier, so...why was she resisting? Why was she fighting what Zayed was offering, when it was so much more than she’d ever had before, ever hoped to have?

Olivia stared at him helplessly, knowing that she’d been resisting all along because she was afraid. Afraid of loving him as desperately as she knew she did while he felt only desire and perhaps affection for her.

Yet... Would that be so bad? Couldn’t she live with it? She’d lived with less—far less—and she’d found a certain kind of happiness. She could have more of it with Zayed. He enjoyed her company, at least, and they were good in bed together. And when children came along and she was able to be a mother...

‘Why fight it?’ Zayed asked softly. ‘Why fight us?’

‘It’s a big decision, Zayed,’ Olivia answered, her voice shaky. ‘And just because you’ve reached a certain conclusion doesn’t mean I have.’

‘But you are beginning to,’ Zayed said, and there was certainty in his voice. ‘You are.’

She opened her mouth but no words came out. She couldn’t deny it. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to. What was love, anyway? An ephemeral emotion, a will-o’-the-wisp, nothing you could hold onto, and perhaps nothing you could count on either. Zayed was offering her more than anyone else ever had. Why not take it? Why not grasp happiness while she could?

‘Olivia,’ he said, his voice full of warmth and promise. He reached for her and she came willingly, closing her eyes as their bodies brushed and collided. She leaned her head against his shoulder and they stood there, embracing, for several sweet moments.

I love you. The words came unbidden into her mind, hovered on her tongue. How had she fallen in love so quickly, so easily? Olivia closed her eyes, willing those treacherous words away. Zayed would not want to hear them. Not now, and most likely not ever.

With his arms around her, Zayed guided her towards the bed. Laughing, Olivia stumbled slightly, her leg brushing against something she assumed was the bed, but then she felt a sharp, stinging pain in her ankle. She gasped, and Zayed looked at her in surprise, but before Olivia could so much as open her mouth she felt a strange, numbing cold sweep over her body, and then she knew nothing at all.

* * *

‘Olivia...?’ Zayed stared at her in confusion—at her face, pale and shocked. ‘What is it—’

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a movement and he jerked around to see the sinuous, black shape of a desert cobra slither across the darkened floor.

Zayed swore aloud and then he shouted for help. Already Olivia’s body was going stiff, her eyes sightless. Quickly Zayed hoisted her onto the bed, looking for where she’d been bitten. He found the angry-looking fang marks on her ankle, and he tore off a strip from his thobe to tie around her leg and isolate the venom, praying that he wasn’t too late.

Seconds later Jahmal burst into the room, followed by several of his armed guards.

‘What is it? What has happened?’

‘Snakebite,’ Zayed said tersely. ‘Do we have an antivenom injection in the Jeep?’

‘I’ll get it.’ Jahmal left quickly, while Zayed stared down at Olivia, her body jerking in response to the venom flowing through her system, her gaze blank and unresponsive. Cobra bites were some of the most dangerous in the world, with a high mortality rate, especially in such remote areas as this.

Damn it, why hadn’t he checked for snakes? After ten years of living in the desert, he was used to doing it, but he’d been so consumed by Olivia, by the promise he’d seen in her eyes, that he’d forgotten. And now he stood here, helpless, holding her hand, her life at stake, his life at stake...because she was his life. The realisation cut through him cleanly, leaving him dazed and reeling.

He loved her, Zayed acknowledged with a terrible, sinking sensation, and once again he was going to have to stand by and watch as the person he loved most in the world suffered and died. It was more than he could bear. Not again. Not ever.

‘Hold on, Olivia,’ he whispered, trying to imbue her with his own strength. ‘Hold on.’

The next few hours passed in a blur of grief and fear. Jahmal administered the antivenom medication, and Zayed watched, utterly helpless as Olivia writhed and retched, so clearly suffering and in pain that Zayed felt as if his own body, his own heart, were being rent apart. He wished he could take her pain, longed to ease her suffering, but just as before, just as always, there was nothing he could do. And he didn’t know if he could live through that again.

‘Will she survive?’ he asked the doctor he’d flown in from Arjah, thirty-six hours after Olivia had first been bitten. Zayed had barely left her bedside in all that time.

The doctor gave him a sorrowful smile and shrugged. ‘It is impossible to say. A snakebite... As a man of the desert, Prince Zayed, you know how dangerous and even deadly these can be.’

‘Yes, I know.’ Zayed’s hands curled into fists. ‘But a person can survive if the venom hasn’t spread.’

‘Yes, and we will not know whether that has happened.’ The doctor dared to lay a hand on his arm. ‘If it is fatal, it will be soon. We will have an answer in the next day or two.’

An answer Zayed couldn’t bear to think about.

Forty-eight hours after the serpent had first slithered away, Olivia stirred and then opened her eyes. She licked dry lips, her unfocused gaze moving around the room. Zayed leaned forward.

‘Habibi...’ The endearment slipped from his lips unthinkingly. He reached for her hand. ‘You’re awake.’

Slowly, as if the movement made everything in her ache, Olivia turned her head to look at him, her expression still dazed. She opened her mouth to speak but only a sigh came out.

‘Don’t speak,’ Zayed urged her. ‘Don’t strain yourself, not now.’ Relief broke over him like a wave on the shore, followed by a deep, unsettling unease. If she was awake, if she was cognisant, she had survived. She would survive. And, as grateful as Zayed was for Olivia’s life, he didn’t know if he had it in him to withstand something like this again. How many risks would he have to take? He’d live his whole life in jeopardy, in fear, for the one he loved. For the heart that could break.

Back in his own room, Jahmal was waiting with a grim look on his face, having just returned from Rubyhan. Zayed glanced at him, both irritated and alarmed by his aide’s gloomy face.

‘What?’ he demanded. He hadn’t slept in over two days and his mind was a haze of physical and emotional fatigue. ‘Why are you looking like the walls have come crashing down?’

‘Perhaps because they have, Prince Zayed.’

Zayed stilled in the action of taking off the linen thobe he’d worn for far too long; he hadn’t bothered to change his clothes since Olivia had been hurt. ‘What do you mean?’

‘There was a message from Serrat back at Rubyhan. He says he is sorry, but his government is not willing to support your claim at this point.’

Zayed sat heavily on the bed and raked his hands through his hair. After the success of the dinner with Serrat, he had hoped for better. Hell, he’d expected it.

‘Did he say why?’

‘He gave no reason, My Prince.’

Zayed nodded slowly. ‘There will be others.’ But it was a blow—a big blow—that woke him from the stupor of grief and fear he’d been in for the last two days.

‘You should return to Rubyhan,’ Jahmal urged. ‘Speak to Serrat and reach out to Sultan Hassan again, before Malouf hears of these developments and grows even bolder.’

‘But Olivia...’ The words died on Zayed’s lips as he caught sight of his aide’s face, and the flicker of something almost like contempt that went across it. He was a prince—would be the King when he could return to Arjah and be crowned. He was a leader of men, of a people, a country, and he had a duty to them, to the memory of his family...and that came before any duty he had to his mistaken bride. Besides, Olivia was getting better, and the greatest danger was past.

He gave Jahmal a terse nod. ‘Be ready to leave within the hour.’ Zayed did not miss the relief that broke across Jahmal’s face before he turned away.

After washing and dressing in a fresh thobe, Zayed went in search of the doctor.

‘She seems better,’ he said, part-statement, part-question, and the man nodded.

‘Yes, the worst is past. But it will be some days before I can discover whether there has been lasting damage.’

Zayed’s stomach clenched. ‘What kind of lasting damage?’

‘To organs, muscles, even the brain. I am hopeful, my Prince, that the venom did not spread so far, but I can make no promises at this juncture.’

‘Of course.’ Dread swirled in his stomach at the thought of Olivia facing such damage...and it would be his fault. His fault for bringing her here, for kidnapping her in the first place. ‘Give her the best care,’ he instructed. ‘And, when she is well enough, arrange for her transport back to Rubyhan.’

The man nodded. ‘It will be done.’

Jahmal was waiting in the Jeep when Zayed slipped into Olivia’s room for a private farewell. She was asleep, her face pale, her dark hair spread over the pillow, her lashes sweeping her cheeks. Her breathing was steady and yet so very light; she was barely a bump under the covers, her body fragile and slight.

Zayed sat next to her and took her limp hand in his. A dozen different memories ran through his mind in a bittersweet reel: that first explosive night; the way she’d cared for the women and children after Malouf’s attack. Seeing her in the palace garden, Lahela’s baby on her lap, looking so happy. The way she’d given herself to him, so freely and utterly. The stormy blue of her eyes, the sudden surprise of her smile. His insides twisted in an agony of indecision. Love hurt.

He didn’t want to leave her, but he knew he had to. And perhaps it was better this way; he’d never meant to love her, never meant to open himself to that kind of pain again. If he left now, he could gain the emotional distance he needed and so could she. Yes, it was better this way. Better for both of them.

Zayed squeezed Olivia’s hand gently and then brushed a kiss against her forehead. As he eased back, her eyelids flickered, but before she could open them properly she’d lapsed back into sleep.

With a wrenching pain feeling as if it were tearing him in two, Zayed backed out of the room and then headed for the Jeep, Rubyhan and the rest of his life.