Scandal: His Majesty's Love-Child (12 page)

Rihana’s rooms weren’t where he’d choose to meet Annalisa, but he didn’t trust himself with her in private. Last night she’d looked at him with huge doe eyes and guilt had scored him to the bone.

He couldn’t keep his hands off her. He’d kissed her and his good intentions had instantly collapsed. He’d have taken her then and there, on the stone seat! Only the distress in her eyes had stopped him.

He’d have to live with frustration.
Until they were wed.
By then she’d be ready to accept the passion that flared between them and give him what he wanted. What they both wanted.

‘Yes.’ She watched him warily. She was pale, and dark shadows bruised her eyes. ‘The reception was fascinating.’

‘What in particular?’ Maybe guilt prompted him, but he was curious. Annalisa was such an antidote to the world of cynicism and mistrust he’d known so long.

She shrugged, the movement so jerky he caught his mother’s concerned look.

Again guilt speared him. He’d stolen Annalisa’s bright future with one greedy lapse of judgement. Trapped himself too, in the yoke of marriage.

A chill filled him at the idea of marrying. He had a deepseated horror of anything that smacked of commitment. Yet it had to be done. In a couple of weeks, when Annalisa had had time to acclimatise. She looked so fragile.

He’d do his best to support her. After all, in her own way she was as much an outsider as he.

‘So many people were interesting,’ Annalisa murmured, her husky voice an echo of his erotic fantasies. ‘Archaeologists and diplomats. Experts in health and farming.’ She stopped, eyes rounding as she caught his gaze, obviously remembering his anger when she’d spoken to that agricultural advisor.

‘You find all that interesting?’

‘Of course.’ He caught a glimpse of the passionate woman who’d entranced him in the desert. ‘Don’t you?’

‘I…’ Tahir stopped as something struck him.

He’d been busy learning to be monarch, at the same time working to divest himself of the responsibility but finding no alternative ruler. In all that time he hadn’t once been bored. He’d been challenged, frustrated, even occasionally pleased when he’d made important progress.

But never bored.

‘Tahir?’ Two pairs of eyes stared at him.

Tahir dragged himself back into the conversation, but for the next twenty minutes only half listened.

As he watched Annalisa, so on edge with him, he realised he needed to bridge the chasm he’d created between them. She was wound so tight it couldn’t be healthy for the baby or her.

But bridging that gap might leave him vulnerable.

Annalisa made him doubt himself and his certainties.

She made him…feel.

She stirred emotions he wasn’t accustomed to. Like last night’s jealousy. It had blasted like the desert wind, scouring
away his reason. He’d become a covetous brute, lashing out when he should have looked after her.

The reception must have been overwhelming for her. He hadn’t missed her wide-eyed look at walls panelled with gold and gems.

He had to protect her and ease her way.

Tahir Al’Ramiz, a champion of duty.

Would wonders never cease?

‘What do you think, Tahir?’ His mother interrupted his thoughts. ‘Will decentralised healthcare get off the ground? Or is it rhetoric?’

He watched Annalisa blush, guessing they’d been expounding upon the problems with the current system. Just the sort of thing she
would
be interested in, he realised with something like pride.

‘Since you’re interested, come to the next meeting of the working party.’

Silence greeted his suggestion.

‘It’s not usual,’ his mother explained. ‘It’s normally just officials.’

Didn’t he know it? He felt hemmed-in by bureaucracy. It wasn’t his style. Ruling a country wasn’t his style! But if he was stuck with it, he’d do it his way.

Tahir leaned forward to select a date from the platter before him. He favoured Annalisa with a long look and saw her eyes grow round again. It reminded him of her wide-eyed wonder as their bodies joined. He struggled to find the thread of the conversation.

How did she do that without even trying?

‘I’ll have one of the secretaries let you both know when the next meeting is.’

‘Oh, but I don’t think…’ Annalisa’s words trailed off as he watched her.

‘But you
do
think, Annalisa, and that’s why I want you there.’ Even as he said it he realised how true that was. The meetings had been a tangle of officialdom and little practical input. Besides, it would give Annalisa a chance to think about something other than her pregnancy. He guessed after living a life busy with responsibilities being cooped up here with nothing to do gave her too much time to worry.

‘You have experience in healthcare in the provinces. It would be useful to hear your perspective.’ He turned to his mother. ‘Did you know Annalisa helped provide medical care in outlying villages?’

‘I did.’ His mother’s look might almost have been called approving. He paused in the act of chewing. ‘Annalisa would give valuable input. What a good idea.’

Tahir swallowed the date and sat back, his head spinning. His royal mother sounded almost warm in her praise. What was the world coming to?

For as long as he could recall she’d been coolly polite. During his exile she’d refused to answer his calls.

‘But I couldn’t,’ Annalisa murmured. ‘I’m not—’

‘I’d appreciate your involvement. And my mother will be there.’ Tahir leaned forward and fixed Annalisa with a look he knew could melt feminine resolve in under thirty seconds. He watched her blink rapidly as a soft blush warmed her cheeks and throat.

Triumph filled him. She wasn’t indifferent, for all her unwillingness to wed.

If he had to marry, he intended to enjoy the benefits. Soon, very soon, she’d give him everything he desired.

T
AHIR
leaned back in his chair and silently congratulated himself.

With Annalisa’s input the working party had achieved more these last couple of weeks than he’d have thought possible. She’d done what his officials hadn’t: sought advice from contacts in outlying regions. The plans for coordinated medical care promised to be a success.

His wife-to-be was talented and able. She related to people at all levels, yet was curiously lacking in ego. She was clever, caring, intelligent.

And she aroused him as no other woman.

Even the knowledge that she carried his child couldn’t quench his desire. He’d found himself hungrily tracing her figure for some sign of the baby. Instead of shying from the idea, he found her pregnancy evoked urgent, possessive feelings that made his self-imposed distance almost impossible.

The fact that he barely slept, haunted by erotic dreams, was testament to his newfound strength. Once upon a time he’d have seduced her as soon as temptation rose.

Yet he’d found a strange contentment in restraint, knowing he did the right thing, allowing her time to adjust. The way she glowed and her renewed confidence proved he’d done right.

He nodded goodbye to his staff. The room emptied but for Annalisa, still poring over plans.

Silently he paced across to stand beside her.

The familiar wild honey scent of her skin filled his nostrils
and sent a tremor through already taut muscles. He inhaled deeply. No scent was more evocative. His hands grew damp as he suppressed the impulse to pull her close.

He watched her graceful movements as she turned the pages. The way she pursed her lips in an unconscious pout. He wanted to bite that succulent bottom lip till she groaned with delight, then plunder her sweet depths. He wanted to see the glitter of incendiary fire in her warm brown eyes as she gasped in pleasure and fulfilment.

He wanted to be with her, possess her, have her smile at him and let him bask in her warmth.

Annalisa sensed Tahir before she saw him. Her hand trembled as she put the papers on the conference table.

Hard fingers clasped her elbow and she froze. Looking up, she sank into the blue depths of Tahir’s gaze. Strange that a man with his reputation should have eyes that looked like a glimpse of heaven.

‘Come,’ he said, drawing her to a group of comfortable chairs. ‘Sit with me.’

Automatically she looked back, but the doors were shut. She and Tahir were alone. Heat shimmied through her veins and her palms grew clammy as she remembered what had happened the last time they were alone. Did she trust him? Or herself?

‘No one will interrupt,’ he assured her. But, seeing the intensity of his gaze, Annalisa didn’t feel reassured.

She felt…excited.

Desperately she tried to dredge up horror at her reaction. Yet all she could manage was an edgy sense of playing with fire.

Since the night he’d kissed her she’d been on tenterhooks, fearing he’d tempt her into intimacy. Her nerves were raw, waiting for him to act, and when he didn’t she stifled disappointment.

Secretly she’d longed for the marauder who’d entered her bedroom without a by your leave and offered to seduce her. The man who’d only had to kiss her hand to reduce her to trembling need.

He was a puzzle, not easily understood. Yet recently she’d found so much to admire.

Tahir was a born leader who didn’t need to bully people into agreement. He had a quicksilver energy that only added to his charisma. And beneath his occasional air of cynicism, despite his reprobate reputation, she suspected Tahir was a decent man.

A man she feared she cared too much for.

Yet he’d left her room that first night in the palace without a qualm. He hadn’t touched her after that last searing kiss when she’d agreed to marriage. Clearly whatever allure she’d once held for him was now dead. How could
she,
without an ounce of sophistication, hold his interest?

It scared her that she wanted to.

Annalisa sat on the low divan. To her consternation he sat beside her. Close enough for her to watch his long lashes veil his gaze.

Did he notice her breathing turn shallow? Panic surged at being so close to the man she dreamed of every night, the man she couldn’t stop thinking about.

‘I’ve organised a date for our wedding.’

Our wedding.

She swallowed hard and her pulse tripped as she caught the flash of something unsettling in his eyes. Emotions tumbled through her. Relief that he hadn’t reneged. Excitement she tried to stifle. Anxiety at whether marriage was the right thing.

‘When will it be?’ Her voice emerged husky and she reminded herself this was a paper marriage only.

But the way Tahir leaned close, hands engulfing hers, sent other, contrary signals. Fire shot through her veins, warming her all over.

‘A week tomorrow.’ He paused long enough for her pulse to thud slow and heavy, once, twice. ‘Then we’ll be man and wife.’

Heat shimmered between them. The sort of heat that ignited each time she allowed herself close to Tahir.

Dangerous heat.

Annalisa sat straighter, trying to look away from his intense
gaze. She wanted to jerk out of his hold but feared she’d give away the effect he had on her.

His thumb swept an arc across her hand, sending tremors shooting up her arm. His nostrils flared and a pulse throbbed at his temple, matching the urgent beat in her blood. Deep inside desire woke.

Tahir leaned in and her eyelids flickered. She shouldn’t want him to kiss her but she did. So badly.

She struggled for a distraction.

‘You’ve told your mother about the marriage?’ Annalisa forced the words out, making one last effort to resist him. ‘It’s been obvious she doesn’t know your plans.’

Obvious Tahir wasn’t eager to spread the word he was marrying.
Because he didn’t really want her. He was stuck with her.

He straightened, looking suddenly more distant.

‘Given your hesitation, I thought you’d prefer keeping the engagement private at first.’

Was he serious? ‘But she’s your mother! She must have wondered what was going on.’ Though the relationship between the women had grown close, Annalisa was uncomfortable with her status as a long-standing guest.

‘I wished you to stay. That’s all she needed to know.’

Annalisa stared. What sort of relationship did he have with Rihana? Nothing like what she’d shared with her father.

‘Why don’t you like her?’ she whispered, then froze, horrified she’d spoken aloud.

His hands clamped round hers and every skerrick of warmth bled from his face.

‘I’m sorry. It’s none of my business—’

‘You’ve got it wrong.’ He paused so long she thought he wouldn’t say more. He looked down at her hands clasped in his. His thumb swiped idly across her skin. ‘It’s my mother who doesn’t approve of me.’

His face was a stony mask. Utterly still. Bereft of emotion. Yet she
felt
it, flowing from him, swirling between them.

Pain. Deep, soul-destroying pain.

Annalisa could barely breathe as the weight of his suffering bore down upon her.

Then his face changed. She watched the familiar twist of his lips, the raised eyebrow, the cool eyes. Yet despite his derisive expression she’d swear he looked haunted.

‘I’m hardly a model son. I was a disappointment to my parents from an early age.’

Annalisa’s heart wrenched at his arrogant attitude, certain it hid suffering.

Fleetingly she remembered he’d worn that same expression on his last morning at the oasis. Had his supercilious behaviour then been a smokescreen too?

She tugged her hands loose from his grip and dared to wrap them in turn around his powerful fists. They were rigid.

‘I don’t believe that.’

His glare could have frozen water in the desert sun, but she refused to look away. Annalisa didn’t understand the need to champion him. She acted on instinct. On emotion so powerful it wouldn’t be denied.

‘You’re hardly in a position to know, my dear.’

The casual endearment was laced with cool dismissal. In response she raised her chin and met him stare for stare.

‘I know your mother loves you.’

He jerked beneath her hold. His big shoulders rose and dropped, as if a massive earthquake had thundered through him. An instant later he was still, his look quizzical.

‘I appreciate your good intentions. But not all parents are like yours, Annalisa.’

An expression flashed in his eyes. Something so stark it stole her breath and made her more determined to persevere.

‘It’s there in the way she talks about you.’ Annalisa refused to be cowed. ‘She talks about you all the time now, did you know that?’ At Tahir’s amazed look she kept going. ‘She talks about all three of you. She’s so proud of her sons. Of what strong, honourable men they are.’

Tahir snorted in disbelief and Annalisa grasped his hands tighter,
willing
him to listen.

‘It’s true. She says you’re all different but you have traits in common. Strength, determination, passion, pride. Honour.’

‘You’re confusing me with someone else.’

She shook her head. ‘She said you’d taken on the kingship though you desperately didn’t want it. Because you felt obligated.’

Tahir’s eyes widened. She pressed on. ‘She says that even while you were out of the country you anonymously funded initiatives in Qusay for abused and disadvantaged children.’

‘She knew about that?’ Another tremor shook his big frame. Annalisa’s heart ached. She wanted to reach out and palm his cheek, stroke his hair, soothe him. He looked stunned. Shocked to the core.

Abruptly he dragged his hands from hers, leaving her bereft.

‘It’s easy to give money when you have a fortune.’ A slashing gesture emphasised the words. ‘It wasn’t important.’

It was on the tip of Annalisa’s tongue to say it was important to those who’d benefited from his generosity, but she bit it back.

‘So you haven’t noticed the way she looks at you? The way she follows your progress around a room?’

It had puzzled her at first, the coolness between mother and son, contrasted with the Queen’s avid interest when Tahir wasn’t aware of it. Till Annalisa had realised there was an unhealed breach between them.

Tahir’s brows furrowed. He opened his mouth, then shut it again.

Finally he shook his head. ‘Maybe once she cared. But that stopped long ago.’ His voice was clipped, testament to his discomfort. He surged to his feet, looming over her. ‘Until I returned to Qusay my mother hadn’t spoken to me for years. Not during my exile. Not before.’

His eyes glittered with an ice-cold clarity that chilled Annalisa to the bone. ‘She refused even to speak to me the day my father banished me.’

His voice throbbed with a passion that tore at Annalisa’s heart.

‘So you’ll understand why I find it hard to believe you.’ He turned abruptly and strode to the door.

Trembling, Annalisa stumbled to her feet. ‘I’m not a liar, Tahir. You know that.’ She forced the words out over a throat choking at the sight of his torment.

She didn’t have explanations, but she was certain Rihana loved her son. If anything, after listening to her discuss her children, she thought Tahir might even be her favourite.

‘Maybe you should ask her why she wouldn’t talk to you.’

Tahir checked for a moment on the threshold. ‘The subject is closed,’ he growled. ‘I’ll hear no more.’ He exited, leaving the door hanging open behind him.

He prowled the corridors and courtyards, the antechambers and audience halls. Yet Tahir couldn’t shake the words haunting him.

Your mother loves you.

His strides ate up another wing of the palace.

He’d given up believing such platitudes years ago. It no longer mattered. He was a grown man. Had survived on his own—totally, completely on his own—for years.

He didn’t need love.

He barely believed in it any more. He’d never had it from his father. And from his mother? He shuddered to a stop. He recalled her warm hugs and tender smiles when he was small. Only when they were alone together. As the years had passed she’d become distant.

Who could blame her? He’d striven to make his father proud. But when it had become clear nothing he did would earn the old man’s approval, that in fact his father hated him, Tahir had plunged into excess with an abandon that rivalled even his sire’s. Better that than driving himself crazy trying to fathom why the old man detested him.

Had he seen too much of his own weaknesses in his son?

Tahir scrubbed a hand over his face.

He wasn’t the sort who inspired or sought love. That was a fool’s game. Sentimental folly.

Annalisa imagined things. She was sweet and innocent enough to believe families were about caring.

What stunned him was the way, just for a moment, he’d
wanted
to believe her. He’d craved it with every fibre of his body and what passed for his soul.

He! Tahir Al’Ramiz! The dissolute son of a dissolute father. A man who cared for no one.

Except, he realised, a feisty girl with tender eyes and an indomitable spirit.

He put out a hand to steady himself as the realisation rocked him back on his feet.

He cared…

How long he stood there, unfamiliar sensations swirling through him, he didn’t know.
He cared!

Finally, shaking his head as if clearing it of a waking dream, he looked around and realised he’d stopped outside the dowager Queen’s apartments.

Chance? Or a subconscious decision?

Something in his chest gave a queer little jump and his pulse settled into a jagged, staccato beat. He turned to leave, then stopped.

Annalisa’s words rang in his ears.

She’d confronted him with a story too unbelievable to countenance.
Surely
it was unbelievable.

Yet eventually he lifted his fist and rapped on the massive door. A voice answered and he forced himself to push the door wide.

His mother looked up from a book. Her eyes met his and just for an instant he saw them sparkle with pleasure. Then, swift as a door slamming, her expression cleared into the familiar one of calm detachment.