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His gaze dropped, took in the lines of her neck, and again experienced a tiny bolt of surprise at how sleekly it curved to her shoulders, how delicate and flawless were her collarbones and skin.
No, not a diamond, but perhaps a better quality stone than he’d first surmised.
A quality stone, but still rough around the edges, he modified, when he noticed she was still twisting her fingers into an agitated mess. ‘Be still, little one,’ he commanded.
She made a strangled little sound under her breath but her body stilled and her fingers stopped moving. He suppressed a need to tell her to straighten her spine and look him in the eye when he spoke to her.
Such training was unnecessary for what he had in mind. All that would be required was for her not to collapse into a useless heap before he’d achieved his goal. And he had a way to ensure that happened.
Decision made, he whirled away from her. As if they were in tune with his thoughts, a brief knock sounded on the door before Marwan and the rest of his aides rushed in.
‘Your Highness? Have you any news you wish me to relay to the royal guard? A starting point for the search for your intended, perhaps?’
‘We are past that, Marwan,’ Zufar said coldly, noting absently again that Amira’s absconding didn’t sting as much as it should. If anything, it was his half-brother’s insult that grated harsher.
‘Oh? Does that mean the ceremony is off?’
Zufar glanced at the woman standing shell-shocked in the corner of the room.
She looked even worse, as if a fresh bolt of lightning had hit her. His decision didn’t waver as his gaze objectively raked her.
The wedding bouquet would occupy her skittish hands, veils would shroud her face, and heels would elevate her height and hopefully correct her posture.
Beyond that, very little mattered.
‘No, it does not. The ceremony is still going ahead.’ He slashed his hand through the shocked murmurs echoing through the room. When he achieved silence, he continued, ‘I fully intend to be married in two hours’ time. Niesha Zalwani is to be my bride and everyone in this room will ensure that my wishes are fulfilled.’
CHAPTER TWO
‘TELL YOUR BROTHER I’ve not only seduced his precious bride but that she runs away with me willingly. Tell him I’m stealing away his future Queen, just as he stole my birthright.’
Those were the most scandalous words Niesha had exp
ected to hear today, and possibly for the rest of her days. A day that should’ve been one of intense joy, but which had taken a wrong turn to hell about an hour ago.
With the Sheikh’s appearance in his intended’s bedroom, she’d harboured hope that everything would be resolved.
Except King Zufar al Khalia had just spoken words that simply didn’t make sense. For a moment Niesha wondered whether the shock of watching Amira Ghalib disappear from right under her nose had dislodged a few million brain cells.
The man in front of her, the formidable, extraordinarily captivating tower of masculinity who prowled through his kingdom with harsh authority and power, commanding and receiving the loyal adulation of his subjects because he was simply that breathtaking, had just said—
No. You did you not hear him right. It was impossible.
Her thoughts were clearly echoed by Marwan, who sprang forwards. ‘Your Highness?’ His voice was ashen with disbelief.
The King—her King, since she too was a subject of the Kingdom of Khalia—moved another step closer, bringing his earth-shaking life force even more dangerously into her space. He stalked so close she could almost see the ice crackling in his eyes, the contained fury vibrating his body.
Niesha shrank away from the elegant folds of the wedding gown, the sheets of icy shock thawing into a cauldron of panic. She glanced around the room, selfishly wishing Princess Galila were still here.
King Zufar’s sister barely noticed Niesha most of the time, but her kind smile when she did was far better than the fiercely domineering glower of her brother, and the tableau of horrified expressions spread in panorama before her.
Perversely, those expressions were what hammered home the fact that she’d heard correctly. He’d used her full name. In connection to marriage. His marriage. Today. Shock gurgled in her throat.
Her fingers moved then, connected with the soft, warm folds of the most extraordinary wedding gown she’d ever seen in her life. The gown that, finding herself alone in this room three nights ago, she’d secretly indulged in one insane moment’s fantasy of wearing herself to marry the ephemeral man of her dreams.
The gown that Zufar al Khalia wanted her to...to—
‘I’m sorry, Your Highness...’ she whispered, but his voice overrode hers.
