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Claire lost colour and sank back heavily into her seat because once again that was a reality that had not entered her head and she was deeply embarrassed by her failure to identify that fact.
Raif sat back down again as well. ‘Being in the palace now is averysteep learning curve for me, Claire, because I didn’t grow up there and I wasn’t trained for my role. There are strange traditions to be respected, ceremonies that I am unversed in. Growing up in the UK deprived me of more than I appreciated at the time. My summers with my great-uncle in the desert were not quite as educational as I once naively assumed,’ he concluded grimly.
As the awful silence fell, smouldering with unhappy, dissatisfied undertones, Claire was cut to the bone with mortification. She swallowed hard. How could she not have thought of their child’s needs or their child’s future in Quristan? And yet she hadn’t, probably because all that seemed too distant while also being utterly unfamiliar to her. She was someone who took a broad view of events, not a detached, detailed view. But she was very much shaken by Raif’s bitter admission that even as the King he was struggling to find his path at the palace because he had not been raised with that background. He was working to fit in. She recognised that trait in him: if he failed at something, he would probably just work harder and he would blame himself for any mistakes or omissions.
And where did such a sterling character trait leave her in comparison? She had been ready to run in fear and panic, ready to turn her back on the new and unfamiliar without even taking account of her son’s needs or giving their new life a chance. She hadn’t thought that far ahead, she excused herself unhappily. But the lowering truth was that Raifwasthinking that far ahead and already foreseeing the pitfalls of a divorce because he had grown up with separated parents and a father he had never got to know.
Raif glanced at her, his amazing black-lashed tortoiseshell eyes calm again. ‘I haven’t been fair to you, but I couldn’t let you and our child leave me like that.’
Moisture was prickling at the backs of her eyes and she nodded stiffly. ‘I hadn’t thought everything through. I was panicking.’
‘I know. I too am still finding my way in this role, and I will be for some time,’ he admitted in a harsh undertone. ‘But people are depending on me to succeed, and I will do the best I can.’
All of a sudden, she wanted to grab his hand, do something physical to show him that she truly understood, but she couldn’t reach him where he sat on the other side of the aisle and clasped her hands together tightly instead. ‘I’ll give it a go,’ she promised abruptly. ‘But my best... I warn you...may not be good enough.’
‘I only ask that youtry. Give us some time in which to adapt to these changes,’ he urged.
‘I’m sorry you had to abduct me,’ she told him in all seriousness. ‘But in a way, I sort of enjoyed it too...’
Raif gazed back at her in wonderment and then he threw back his head and laughed with huge appreciation. ‘This is why I wanted you back, Claire. I haven’t laughed once since I last saw you.’
‘You haven’t had anything to laugh about.’ She sighed.
Raif studied her from below drowsy lashes. He was so tired. Indeed, he had never been more tired in his life. The funerals, his father’s passing as well as certain painful facts he had learned in recent days, not to mention the demands on his time and understanding, had all combined to plunge him into exhaustion. The prospect of Claire leaving his life, however, had galvanised him into a level of aggressive action he could barely credit in the aftermath. But now she was here with him. Claireandhis child. Relief was slowly filtering through him, pushing out the tension that had filled him with stolen energy. His sensible queen...his sensible, sexy queen... A dim smile formed on his expressive lips before he fell asleep.
The door at the far end of the cabin opened a crack and Circe prowled into view, set free from her carrier. Claire lifted her pet onto her lap and stroked her. Tea was brought and sandwiches and a bunch of fashion magazines she had not the faintest interest in when she was about to start searching out maternity wear. She watched Raif sleep, his bronzed features smoothed out by rest, making him look younger. But he would rise to the challenges ahead of him...and now she was committed to rising to those same challenges because she loved him to bits. How could she ever have convinced herself that she would be able to walk away from him?
CHAPTER EIGHT
THEYARRIVEDINQuristan without fanfare.
Kazan, the capital city, also had the main airport. Within minutes they were tucked into an SUV with dark windows and, with a cavalcade of security in attendance, driven through the city. It was a much more urban contemporary landscape than Claire had naively expected, for the skies were full of towering skyscrapers, including several obvious city landmarks, which were of architectural significance.
‘My father hated all this development but there wasn’t anything he could do about it,’ Raif told her wryly. ‘We were not greeted by journalists when we landed because early in his reign my father imposed draconian rules on the media.’
‘Why?’
Raif grimaced. ‘When he was a young man in Spain, there was that scandal with the young woman, and he blamed the media for it. He was very shaken up and determined to ensure that such a thing never happened to him or the family again. It made him very controlling in his behaviour. Now, of course, the government wants the media restraints loosened. In fact, the government pretty much wants to roll back everything my father supported to prevent Quristan from joining the rest of the modern world. But they will have to do it slowly to keep the traditionalists happy.’
‘And where do you stand?’ Claire asked, turning back from an appreciative scrutiny of a gleaming shopping mall and the cleanliness of the street.
‘In the middle ground. I’m fresh to all this and I have to learn and listen more than direct, which is hard. I’ve been my own boss for too long,’ he reflected. ‘But I can utilise my experience in business and development, which is good.’
The palace was a vast hotchpotch of stone buildings set in the desert beyond the city. Surrounded by tall stone walls, it resembled a fortress more than a palace until the SUV pulled through the gates and she glimpsed the greenery, fountains and shaded pathways within the enclosure.
‘It looks medieval.’
‘It is at its core but since the onslaught of my father’s second wife it rejoices in every modern comfort on the market. It’s more like a hotel than a home. The staff quarters, however, are shockingly poor and the kitchens are hundreds of years behind the times. You are free to make improvements.’
‘Me?’ she exclaimed in surprise.
‘You must certainly know how to modernise a kitchen and utilise health and safety rules to make improvements. As for our future home, you may consult with the builders I’ve brought in.’
‘I thought this was our future home?’
‘My father’s private quarters belong in a museum.’
‘With the Count Dracula bed?’ she asked with a wince of dismay.
