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She moved out to the sun deck to return to the book she was reading. It had been a relief to discover that most of Raif’s books were in English. She had been reading about the history of Quristan, which seemed to her to relate to constant fierce fights between varying tribes right up until his father had assumed the throne. Since those long-ago days, however, democracy had arrived and peace and prosperity had settled in for most of the kingdom.
‘Claire...?’
She spun round in disbelief when she heard Raif’s familiar drawl. And there he stood, sheathed in a tailored suit as was his wont and indisputably looking totally, utterly breathtaking in his gorgeousness. Olive skin, cropped black hair, stunning bone structure...not to mention his lithe and muscular physique. Dazzling dark golden eyes held hers fast for several seconds and she was literally pinned to the spot. Her heartbeat sped up, her nipples tightening into taut buds, her complexion flushed as she approached the patio doors where he stood. ‘We need to talk,’ she semi-whispered, woefully aware of all the listening ears around them.
‘Yes,’ Raif agreed in the mildest of tones as he guided her indoors again where at least they would have privacy.
He rammed the sliding door back into place and turned. Lean, strong face bland, he reacted to the knock on the stateroom door by crossing the room to answer it. A crewman entered with a luggage trolley and began to pile on her cases. Claire froze, bit her lower lip and waited until the trolley had exited again before murmuring flatly, ‘I wasn’t expecting you to make a personal visit.’
‘I would guess not,’ Raif conceded with the shadowy edge of an unexpectedly sardonic smile that tugged at the corners of his compressed lips.
‘But it won’t change anything,’ she declared baldly, mustering her arguments while refusing to look at him any longer. ‘I’m not returning to Quristan with you. I’m planning to return to London and let you get on with a divorce. As short-lived as our marriage has been, I shouldn’t think it would take long to wipe it out again. We could even lie and say the marriage wasn’t consummated and have it dissolved.’
Raif marvelled at her naivety, considering that she was pregnant withhischild. But he was simultaneously appalled by how much her outlook had changed in the space of a handful of days. In little more than a week and a half, he had been condemned and found wanting by a woman who didn’t think enough of herself to even contemplate that she could be his queen. That in itself was the bigger sin, but, as he recognised the same weakness in himself, he was unwilling to allow it to destroy their future. He could only see his future as being with her, the two of themtogether. They were a couple, stronger with each other than without, and as a family they would face and handle any and all difficulties that might threaten them.
‘You’re full of inventive ideas,’ he remarked.
Claire stiffened, braced her hands on her hips in what she hoped was a pose guaranteed to emphasise her strength of purpose. ‘Let’s face it... I’m not queen material.’
‘It’s a personal opinion, of course,’ Raif breathed, studying the picture she made in a flowing turquoise sundress that highlighted her anxious blue eyes, guiltily conscious of the all too ready quickening at his groin and the incipient throb of arousal. ‘But I believe you’ll make an amazing queen. You’re down to earth, practical and normally steady under stress. Everything that makes you efficient in catering will make you perfect to stand by my side.’
Her troubled eyes opened very wide. ‘That’s ridiculous, Raif,’ she told him with deep conviction. ‘Queens are all about women who wear silk and fabulous tiaras! Have you looked at your late mother’s jewellery?’
Hearing the edge of panic in her voice, Raif merely laughed with genuine appreciation. ‘Claire, my mother was Queen in another era, for a generation long buried. Luckily, the world has changed and moved on. You are a working woman with a career and that is much more relatable to our people. A social butterfly like my mother, only seen on ceremonial occasions wearing that fabulous jewellery, would be much less admired and desirable these days.’
‘I disagree,’ Claire declared firmly as he strode past her to let Circe enter through the sun-deck glass door and join them.Herpet that proceeded to fawn athisfeet in the most embarrassing way.
‘Circe was born to be a royal cat,’ Raif pointed out cheerfully. ‘She just knows she’s a queen and dares us all to treat her any other way. Our leading newspaper has asked permission to develop a cartoon around her. I suspect that Circe has the chops to become much more famous than either of us.’
‘Acartoon?’ Claire gasped incredulously. ‘But how does anyone evenknowthat I own a cat?’
‘You can blame me for that. I have provided certain facts about you, that you’re an English chef and you have a cat,’ he admitted levelly. ‘I’m very proud of my wife. She’s strong and beautiful and she has her feet on the ground like a contemporary queen should have.’
Losing colour at those disconcerting assurances, Claire became very tense, the weight of his expectations bearing down on her and feeling like a judgement rather than a vote of confidence. ‘Look, we’re not going to agree about this. You think I can do it. I know Ican’t. There’s no room for a compromise there.’
Another knock sounded on the door. On the way to answer it, Raif scooped up Circe and went out into the corridor with her. A dim exchange of voices was heard. Claire frowned but stayed where she was until he reappeared. ‘What have you done with my cat?’
‘Oh, she’s all set for the palace. Has no doubts whatsoever regarding her future,’ Raif told her airily. ‘So, this is as close as I will ever come to blackmail. The cat’s coming to Quristan. Will you come too?’
‘For goodness’ sake!’ Claire spluttered, torn between anger and amusement at that move. ‘Raif...’
‘Are you really prepared to give up what we have together?’
Claire got flustered. ‘It’s not fair to ask me that. These are very, very unusual circumstances. We got married and it was ordinary—’
‘And now we have the opportunity to make our marriageextraordinary,’ Raif sliced in with fierce determination. ‘You’re prepared to give up without even trying to make it work with me?’
‘Stop making it all sound like it’s simple!’ Claire wailed accusingly. ‘You were like that on the phone when you called...acting like everything was still the same.’
‘Between you and me, itshouldbe the same,’ Raif stated with uncompromising confidence. ‘Nothing else should matter but you and me and our son. Nothing should come between us.’
‘Ican’tdo it!’ she exclaimed in a pained rush.
‘But giving up without even giving it a go is cowardice.’
‘That’s a low blow.’
‘But it’s the truth. If I let you go, will you look back on this decision as something you’re proud of...or will you always wonder what might have been?’
