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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
