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‘Sure.’ Her smile was brave, but he detected her hesitation beneath it. Something pulled at his gut—guilt—a desire to absolve her from this life, to set her free from all of this. But even as he thought that, there was an answering certainty that he never would. That he couldn’t. She was the mother of his child and her place was here with him. If this evening’s arrests had taught him anything it was that her position as the mother to the heir of the RKH put her at grave risk. He intended to do what he could to protect her from that.
But at the doors that led to the wide, sweeping marble stairs that created the entrance to the room, she stopped. ‘Wait.’
‘What is it?’
When he angled his face to look at her, he saw that she was pale and alarm filled him. ‘You’re well?’
‘I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m just...’ She lifted a hand to her throat, pressing her gloved fingers to the enormous jewel there. ‘You said they’d never accept me. A divorced American. Why do you think tonight will be any different?’
Her anxiety was palpable, and of his making. And yet, he’d been speaking the truth. ‘You’re my wife now. It is different.’
‘But it’s not. You were talking about why you couldn’t marry me, about what was expected of you. No one wants me to be here with you.’ She curved a hand over her stomach and his eyes dropped, following the gesture. Something moved inside him then because, without his notice, her stomach had become rounded. Not hugely, but enough. His child was growing inside her. Something locked into place within him, making words difficult to form for a moment.
‘No one wants me to be pregnant with your child.’
The threat was contained. There was no danger to Daisy in this crowd. And yet he put a hand on her forearm and turned her to face him. ‘Would you rather avoid tonight?’
Her eyes lifted to his, surprise in their depths, but it was squashed by defiance. ‘No.’ She looked towards the crowds once more. ‘This ball has been organised in my honour, like you said. The least I can do is turn up, right?’
Admiration shifted through him. ‘We won’t stay long.’
Daisy was surprised when she realised she was enjoying herself. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected. Hostility? Open dislike? And there had been some people who’d regarded her with obvious scepticism and misgiving, though she was shepherded away from those people by an attentive Sariq, who hadn’t left her side all evening. For the most part, though, the crowd had been welcoming and generous. Most of the women she’d spoken to had conversed in English in deference to her. Sariq had translated for people who spoke only the native language.
Yes, she was enjoying herself but, after an hour of making small talk with strangers, her energy was flagging.
As if he could read her thoughts, Sariq leaned towards her, whispering in her ear so his warm breath filled her soul. ‘There is a dance, and then we can leave.’
‘A dance?’ Of its own accord, her heart began to move faster, beating against her bones as though it were trying to rattle free.
‘Just one.’ His smile was alarming, because it reminded her so strongly of the way he’d been in New York. Seeing him like this surrounded by his people, she was in awe of not only his charisma, but also his strength and intellect. In every conversation, he was able to demonstrate a complete understanding of matters that affected his people. Whether it was irrigating agricultural areas to the north or challenges facing the country’s education system, he was informed, nimble and considered. She listened to him and saw how easy it had been for him to work his way into her being.
It hadn’t purely been a physical connection between them. While she found him attractive, it was so much more than that. And suddenly, out of nowhere, she was struck by a desire to be alone with Sariq, to have the full force of his attention on her as it had been in New York, and briefly on the balcony that evening several weeks ago.
‘Ready?’
She bit down on her lip and nodded slowly, her heart slowing down to a gentle thud. ‘Okay.’
‘Don’t look so afraid,’ he murmured in her ear, so only she could hear. ‘We have a deal, remember? This is just for show.’
Her
heart turned over in her chest and she pulled back, so she could look in his eyes. Just for show.
This marriage was the last thing he wanted. She needed to remember that. While it was inevitable that they’d get to know one another, she’d be a fool to hope for more.
To hope for more?
Her insides squirmed. What was she thinking? She was the one who’d sworn off marriage. She’d promised herself she’d never again be stupid enough to get so caught up in a fantasy that she lost who she was. No one deserved that, least of all this man, who’d insinuated she was good enough to take to his bed as a mistress but not good enough to marry. The man who’d told her, point blank, that he’d never love his wife. That, for him, sex and intimacy were two separate considerations.
She straightened her spine, thrilled to have remembered such pertinent facts before his body enfolded hers, drawing her close to him. And as if by some silent cue, the music paused and another piece began to play, slow and lilting. With the stars shining overhead, the dance floor cleared so it was only Sariq and Daisy, their bodies moving as if one.
‘You dance well.’
She wasn’t sure she could take the compliment. He led, she followed—it was effortless and easy. They matched one another’s movements as though they’d been designed to do just that. But they were silent and, after a few moments, that began to pull at her nerves.
‘This is such an incredible courtyard.’ For now, from this vantage point, she could see that the dance floor was surrounded on three sides of the palace. On the fourth, the view opened up to a manicured garden in the foreground and, beyond it, the desert. The wildness of the outlook, juxtaposed with the grandeur of this ancient building, created a striking effect.
‘It was one of the first parts of the palace. In the eleventh century, these walls were erected. This courtyard was, then, the court, where the Emir presided over official matters.’
