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Marriage. Children. Everything the foolish sixteen-year-old in her had dared to dream about as she’d thumbed through the glossy pages of the royal books in the library. Those daydreams that had followed her into her sleep now wormed their way through the dazed anxiety pressing down on her.
Zufar had spoken no words of love—nor had she expected him to. But looking into the hard contours of his face, she doubted they would be forthcoming in the future. When it came right down to it, they were strangers to one another, thrown together by harsh circumstance.
Still, she couldn’t dismiss that image of her sixteen-year-old self, staring after a much younger Zufar as he strode commandingly through the palace.
He’d led a life of integrity, loyalty, absolute dedication to his people; his crown. What better characteristics to look for in a future partner than those?
The notion that she was talking herself into this struck her hard.
She attempted to move, to give herself breathing room.
He stopped her retreat by slipping his hand to her nape, just as he had on the balcony earlier. Eyes sharp with intent gazed deeper into hers. ‘You want this,’ he murmured. ‘Think about all you stand to gain, all the children you can help. Say yes, Niesha,’ he pressed deeply. Hypnotically.
Had she yearned to retreat to a life of drudgery only an hour ago? Did she really want to scuttle away to her lonely bedsit and scrimp and save for years until she could make something more of her life?
She knew without a doubt that she would kick herself from here to eternity if she refused to take the chance being offered to her on a silver platter.
His lips moved tantalisingly close, eliciting a deep craving that scandalised her. She wanted to kiss him again, she realised shockingly. Wanted the chance beyond today, beyond tomorrow, as many days as she would be granted.
With Zufar al Khalia, there would never be any doubt that her children would be nobodies like her. They would be princes and princesses, future kings or queens with centuries of history and pedigree at their fingertips. She could set a true path for her children. Perhaps even find an identity for herself that she’d been denied. Maybe that was a little bit wrong. But in that moment, it was a decision Niesha couldn’t walk away from.
Her hands twisted in her lap. In the next moment, he grasped them with his free hand. He was taking control of her life, of her whole being, and she didn’t even care. Her gaze dropped to the mouth she wanted to kiss so badly, before rising to meet his once again.
And then she breathed the word that seared into her heart. ‘Yes.’
For endless heartbeats, he didn’t move. Then, without granting her the kiss that she craved, he rose, grasped her elbow and pulled her up with him.
‘You have made a wise decision,’ he intoned.
‘Have I, Your Highness?’ she responded dazedly.
Again the corner of his mouth lifted in a barely there smile. ‘You really need to stop calling me that.’
A shaky breath moved her. Then her breath stilled completely as he cupped her face in his large, warm hands. ‘After all, you can hardly call me Your Highness when I am deep inside you,’ he said in a low, thick voice.
‘I...?’ She stopped as heat flamed her face.
‘Zufar,’ he urged. ‘That is my name. Use it.’ His thumb caressed her jaw, rendering her speechless.
Numbly, she shook her head.
‘Never fear, I will have you screaming it by the time the night is over,’ he vowed deeply.
He dropped his hand and captured one wrist. The next moment he was pulling her towards the door.
‘Where are you taking me?’ she blurted.
‘It’s our wedding night, little one,’ he said without breaking stride. ‘Royal tradition is no different from any other. We will consummate our marriage this night. After all, if five years is all we have, then you will need to bear my children sooner rather than later, don’t you think?’
The look he threw over his shoulder was filled with rock-hard purpose. There was lust in there, sure—no matter how discreet he’d been, Zufar’s liaisons with beautiful women were a known fact—but it was a contained lust, one he seemed determined to keep under lock and key.
As he’d said, tonight was their wedding night. And Zufar fully intended to carry out his duty in the bedroom.
Immediately.
Heart in her throat, she stumbled after him down an endless corridor into his private bedchamber and towards the vast and solid four-poster bed that would be the venue for their wedding night.
The place where she would lose her virginity to the King of Khalia before the night was out.
