Authors: Clare Connelly
“Believe me, Rebecca, right now, funny is the very last word I would use to describe you.”
“I don’t know if I want to hear the others.” She said dubiously, remembering how he had insulted her the previous two times they’d met.
He turned to the servant and in Arabic, said, “Madam, the Queen may do as she wishes. Do not worry about the penalties for theft. I will ask the Queen to inscribe the books with her seal from now on, so that the authorities know the books were gifts rather than theft. Will this put you at ease?”
The woman visibly relaxed. “The Queen is very kind. The child
ren are quite in love with her.”
He looked at her thoughtfully.
“The Queen and I must speak privately now. Please make her apologies to the children.”
He put his fingers lightly around his wife’s elbow and propelled her
in the direction of the palace.
“Don’t tell me I’m in for another lecture,” she said
with a heavy sigh as he steered her down the corridor and pushed open a door to a beautiful office.
“Sit.” He said authoritatively.
She didn’t. She crossed her arms over her chest.
“You are the most stubborn, wilful woman in the world.” He groaned, dipping his head.
“Do you have to do the opposite of everything I say just for the sake of it?”
She tilted her chin. “I would
simply prefer to stand.”
“I don’t believe you. You are hot, sweaty,
and pink from the sun. Sit and drink a cool tea before you faint.”
She rolled her eyes at the
ugly image he painted. No wonder he wasn’t attracted to her. He was used to spending time with the most glamorous women imaginable. Not skinny, pink, sweaty school teachers. Nonetheless, she did feel overheated, only it had nothing to do with the sun. She huffed as she sat in the brown leather chair he had indicated.
“Better.” He nodded, and poured her a tea.
“Here. Drink this.”
“What is it?”
“Egyptian flower tea. It is relaxing. You’ll like it.”
She sipped at it and relished the sweet, spicy flavour as it went down her throat.
“Why was she so upset?”
“It is a crime to steal in Assan. Penalties include fines which eclipse what many people would earn in two years of work.
Stealing from a palace is punishable with a prison sentence.”
Rebecca blanched. “I didn’t
know,” she whispered. “But they weren’t stealing. If anything, I’m the one who stole.”
“Quite so,” he nodded in agreement. Rebecca suspected he was enjoying her significant discomfort.
“It does present an intriguing notion,” he said as he came to kneel in front of her.
She eyed him suspiciously
. “I don’t like it when you’re berating me. I think I like it even less when you’re looking at me like that.”
“How am I looking at you, Sheikha?”
“Like you have hatched a scheme and I am at the centre of it.” She murmured quietly, and her blue eyes scanned his face.
He shrugged, but he leaned in closer, so that his chest was pressed against her long legs.
“Out with it, Tariq. What has made you look at me like that?”
He captured her hand in his and brought it to his lips. “
Simply put, the idea of you as my captive prisoner holds some... appeal.”
Her breath caught in her throat as he nipped at her thumb, then glided his lips
along it, tasting her skin.
His
words were hoarse with sensual promise. “Would you like to be my prisoner, Rebecca?”
CHAPTER FOUR
A shiver ran along her spine. She couldn’t deny the idea held appeal for her, too. But she instinctively bucked against the idea of submitting to her desires when she knew he held such a low opinion of her.
Unconsciously, she darted the tip of her tongue out of her mouth and traced it around the line of her lips, to moisten them.
Tariq’s eyes were drawn to the small gesture and he felt a flare of need consume him from the inside out. This had not been planned. He should have been working on Assan’s infrastructure impasse, not flirting with the woman who had agreed to marry a total stranger for money.
And though he knew he shouldn’t be pursuing this, her obvious hesitation infuriated him. His attraction to her had caught him off guard, but since their wedding night, he’d been able to think of little else. It was the reason he’d taken himself away from the palace for a period. To get his desires under control. His brain knew that
getting involved with her was foolhardy. How could such a mercenary woman fail to bring grief and heartbreak to him? How could he ever trust her?
O
nly, other parts of his anatomy were far less sensible.
He thought he had mastered his self-control, but seeing Faisal intimidate her the night before had shown what a lie that was. He wanted her. Exclusively. And completely.
And he wanted to know she felt the same.
He pulled her forward in the chair so that he could kneel between her legs, feel her warmth surrounding him, and then he kissed her, hard on the lips. She relaxed into his arms instantly, her body pliant against his. The dress she wore fell to her ankles but beneath the cotton fabric was bare skin and he relished the sensation as his fingers took hold of her legs and slowly glided upwards.
She moaned as his hands grazed her thighs and went higher still, until he could scoop them beneath her dress and press them against each curve of her bottom. He needled the soft skin there and used his chest to push her back gently into the chair, so that he was almost lying on top of her. He had never wanted a woman more, but he was not a horny high school boy. Where was his finesse, that he would have taken her right here, in a room that any servant could have walked into without warning?
Reluctantly, he pulled his lips away from hers, and saw his own disappointment mirrored in her face.
She lowered her eyes, quick to hide it. She hid so much as a matter of course, and it made him ache to know everything.
“You are a virgin.” He said simply, brusquely rearranging her skirt so that
it fell back modestly to her ankles, then standing to put some distance between them.
She raised defiant eyes to him. “Yes.”
He turned away from her, dragged a hand through his hair.
“Does that bother you?” She intoned flatly, brushing away an invisible hair on her skirt.
“Bother me!” He exclaimed, coming back to kneel in front of her. “Why do you think it would bother me?”
She shrugged. “I suppose you are more experienced.
A lot more experienced, I guess. Someone with my lack of know-how is probably a real turn off.”
His eyes caressed her face. “Nothing could be further from the truth.” He exhaled slowly. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued. How does someone as beautiful as you remain so pure?”
“Beautiful? Me?” She squeaked. “You need your eyes checked.”
His frown was imperceptible.
“There is nothing wrong with my vision.”
She shook her head. “It’s just an expression.”
“Answer my question, Rebecca. How?”
“I would have thought the mechanics was pretty obvious.” She snapped tartly. “I simply failed to have sex. Hence, I remained a virgin.”
He took care to control the wave of annoyance that her evasive responses were fanning. “You never had a boyfriend?”
“You’re not going to let it go, are you?” She squirmed, toying with her hands in her lap.
“No.” He responded simply. “We can always go back to option A until you start giving me straight answers.”
“Option A?”
“Imprisonment. At my mercy, completely.”
Her sweetly shocked expression pleased him but he refused to let her see it.
“Not necessary,” she promised, biting down on her lower lip. “It wasn’t a conscious decision. I was just made to feel uncertain of myself around the opposite sex. Although I have many male friends, I learned to shut off the...er... sexual side of myself. Until...” She paused, feeling indescribably awkward.
“Until?”
A smile had spread across his face at her admission that he was the first man who had made her feel sexual desire.
“Never mind.” She huffed.
He reached up and took a fistful of her hair in the palm of her hand. He ran his fingers through it, noting how like silk it felt against his skin.
“You said you were made to feel uncertain around men. By whom?” He honed in on the phrasing of her admission and she cursed herself for being so indiscrete. The last thing she wanted was to give Winona and Greg any more power to affect her life. Talking about them gave them that power. She wouldn’t do it.
“Just... something someone said once,” she made it sound breezy, and waved her hand through the air. “How about you, your highness?”
“How about me?” He responded. He knew she was still being evasive but time would unlock her secrets, and they had a lifetime to look forward to.
A very rare blush stole across her cheeks. “I understand you’re quite a ladies’ man. Are the reports on the internet to be believed?”
He laughed. “
No.”
“Care to elaborate?” She prodded when he said no more.
“Perhaps.” He narrowed his eyes. “Not now though. Regrettably, I have a delegation of very important business people waiting for me to continue a meeting.” He felt a pang of remorse as he stood, and in doing so, broke the spell of conversation that had wound around them. “Unless you have any more questions...” He teased, turning to walk away.
“Just one.” Her imperious voice stopped him mid-step.
“Oh?”
“Why did you... stop ... what we were doing? Just now.” She looked away. She had to know. Was it because he couldn’t bring himself to sleep with a virgin?
He grimaced. “You deserve your first time to be more special than that.” He answered truthfully.
It had felt pretty special to her. He sighed. “Rebecca,
this office is not private. Anyone could have interrupted us. And if I had kissed you for even a moment longer, I don’t know if I would have been capable of giving a damn.”
“Oh.” Her blue eyes were saucer wide as she looked towards the door. “I didn’t
realise.”
“Of course not.” He nodded.
“Later, Sheikha. We will talk again later.”
She watched as he walked from the room, his tall, taught body confined in a powerful black suit that looked like it had been stitched to ever
y line of his body. Talking was all well and good, but the fire between her legs needed something rather different altogether.
Eight days as Queen of Assan and Rebecca
knew as little about her role as she had before she’d married Tariq. She wanted to know more about the country, and more about the royal responsibilities. Particularly, she wanted to know what the Queen’s prerogatives and privileges were. How wide a scope did she have to get involved on pet projects? Monique had proved as helpful as a brick wall when it came to expanding her workload. “There is plenty of time for that, Rebecca. Right now, you only have to focus on being Queen, and perhaps creating an heir.”
It had caused her to blush, the oblique allusion to her sex life. Which was,
of course, pretty non-existent, anyway. Besides, Rebecca wanted to make herself useful. A purely ceremonial role would bore her socks off; she needed something with grit. And yet, the most anyone seemed to expect of Rebecca was that she relax and beautify herself.
And so, she took herself back to the library to borrow some reference books. She had been a brilliant student at university. She’d undertaken two degrees at once, throwing herself into the academic l
ife to avoid the misery of home. If no one was going to tell her what she wanted to know, then she’d just have to learn it for herself.
The Assanian constitution and a book on the political history seemed as good a starting point as any.
Rebecca carried the heavy books back to her bedroom and set up to study on the small parapet balcony that overlooked the private royal pool. It was a stinking hot day, but from the small protruding alcove she had the benefit of a slight breeze. Hours passed as her knowledge grew. She scratched notes against the stark white paper of her notepad.
She had known that the Kingdom of Assan was progressive, but the truth filled her with pleasure. The legal system was
based on a rule of law. While the King and Queen were seen to have ultimate authority, there was a separate judiciary that operated throughout the land, and even the monarchs were subject to a sort of judicial procedure.
Rebecca snapped shut the
first volume and lifted the second. As she peered through the table of contents, a splash beneath her caused her attention to waver. She scanned the pool. A dark shape was gliding far beneath the water’s surface.
Tariq
.
She watched, fascinated, as his powerful body pulled through the water. His arms, thickly muscled yet long and lean at the same time, tore the water apart as though it were simply air.
Watching him swim was how dancing made her feel. Free, ethereal, and alive.