Scandal: His Majesty's Love-Child (15 page)

Stiffening, her pulse thudding, Annalisa paused, grateful that she’d again worn one of the beautiful gowns Rihana had pressed on her. She might feel small and insignificant, but at least she looked as if she belonged in this world of wealth and finery.

She lifted her chin, forcing down the impulse to spread her hand over her abdomen in a telltale protective gesture.

Did they assume she was simply the latest in the long series of Tahir’s conquests?

Her stomach plunged. Remembering how he’d left so abruptly, and his air of distraction, maybe they were right. Was
she kidding herself that Tahir could feel more for her than duty and physical pleasure?

He’d shared some of his past but that didn’t mean he loved her.

Yet she refused to give up her dreams without a fight. She owed it to her baby too, to try and build a meaningful marriage.

Turning on her heel, she spun round and marched to Tahir’s offices. His senior private secretary was alone in the outer office.

‘Excuse me,’ she said, approaching his desk. ‘I wonder if you can help me with some information?’

‘Of course.’ He stood abruptly, his expression uncomfortable as he shot a glance towards the other office.

Instantly a premonition hit Annalisa. A feeling of impending disaster. These last weeks she’d developed an easy relationship with Tahir’s staff. What had changed?

The secretary’s eyes dipped fleetingly to her waist and her poise almost crumbled. Of course. News of her pregnancy and a potential scandal changed everything.

Warily she let him lead her towards a private sitting room partly screened from the main area.

Her lips twisted bitterly. Was she such an embarrassment she had to be ushered from sight?

‘I’d like you to look up the King’s appointments,’ she said as they walked, her voice a little too strident as she fought embarrassment and anger. ‘We’re marrying next week and I need details of the time and location so I can arrange some invitations.’

If she was going to fight for Tahir, attempt to turn this into a real marriage, she’d start as if it were real. She’d proudly invite her family. Every last cousin. She refused to let Tahir turn their wedding into a hole and corner affair, as if he were ashamed of her.

The secretary halted so abruptly Annalisa almost walked into him.

‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered. ‘Pardon me.’ He turned but didn’t meet her eyes. ‘Won’t you take a seat?’

She shook her head, watching with growing concern the way he clasped and unclasped his hands, clearly ill at ease.

‘No, thanks. I’d rather stand. Now, about the wedding?’

He swallowed hard, as if clearing a constriction in his throat. Still he didn’t look her full in the face.

‘I’m sorry, I…’ He paused, looking back to the office as if seeking help.

‘You were saying? Just the time and location will do.’

‘I’m afraid…’ He stopped and finally met her eyes. ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to talk to the King. He’s altered the arrangements.’

‘Yes?’ Annalisa’s skin prickled as that prescience of trouble grew stronger. ‘How did he alter them?’

‘He’s cancelled them.’

Annalisa heard the words echo through her, felt their impact like the slow motion force of a traffic collision.

Blindly she groped for support, clutching the back of a chair with shaking fingers.

Only yesterday Tahir had referred to their wedding. Why change his mind? Had he read her neediness and her emotions even though she hadn’t voiced them? Had he understood how she felt and decided to weather the scandal rather than lumber himself with a woman so obviously in love with him?

Had he rejected her because he couldn’t accept her love? Because he couldn’t return it?

‘Here. Please! Sit down.’ The secretary grabbed her elbow and guided her into a nearby chair.

Obediently Annalisa sank, grateful for the support as her knees turned to water.

‘Are you absolutely sure?’ She fixed him with a look that begged him to be wrong.

Hurriedly he shook his head. ‘No, I’m sorry. His Majesty cancelled the arrangements only a few hours ago. Perhaps if you talk to him…?’

What? He’d agree to marry her after all?

From the first Tahir hadn’t wanted marriage. He’d felt obligated. And now…now, for all their physical intimacy, perhaps she’d got too close to that part of himself he held so private.

Her heart throbbed pure pain. No doubt he thought it easier to provide financial support for their child than entangle himself with a needy woman.

‘Wait there. I’ll get you some tea.’ Her companion hurried away, leaving Annalisa to stare at the cluster of gilded French antique furniture in the room. It reminded her inevitably of the huge gulf between her and Tahir.

Had she fooled herself with dreams of a love-match? How had she let herself think for a moment it was possible?

She tried to tell herself it was for the best, ending things now rather than going through the emotional entanglement of a doomed marriage.

Yet she couldn’t convince herself.

She was still gazing dry-eyed before her, when a door slammed and she heard footsteps on the inlaid floor of the outer office.

‘…and your personal leadership during this disaster has made all the difference, sire. Without it the relief operation would not have been so effective.’

‘You flatter me, Akmal. But thank you. I realise I’m not the man the elders expected to have on the throne.’

‘Let me assure you, your actions these past couple of months have won their respect. As will your decision to cancel that imprudent marriage. It’s gratifying you’ve taken the advice of your counsellors on this issue.’

Annalisa pressed her palm to her mouth.

‘If I’d taken your advice, Akmal, I’d be crowned already and married to a foreign princess with blue blood and ice in her veins.’ Tahir’s voice was terse.

The sound of it made Annalisa twist in her seat. But they couldn’t see her. She was hidden by a carved screen inlaid with mother of pearl. Her stomach fluttered in distress. She didn’t want to be here, listening to their discussion. But she couldn’t face him. Not yet.

‘I wish you’d stop delaying your coronation, sire. It’s what the country needs. Stability, proof that the monarchy is solid and here to stay.’

‘You don’t think marrying the mother of my child indicates a certain permanency?’

Annalisa winced at the heavy irony in his tone.

‘Laudable as your intentions were, Majesty, we both know the child can be brought up out of the limelight. With sufficient money it will be well cared for and educated. And if you wish to continue a discreet relationship with the mother…’

Nausea engulfed her, and she didn’t hear the rest of the sentence for the buzzing sound in her ears. She hunched over, arms wrapped around her waist, breathing slowly through her nose in an attempt to force down the bile in her throat.

‘Besides…’ The other man’s voice began to fade, presumably as they entered the inner office. ‘Such a marriage isn’t possible. The King must either marry royalty or a woman of pure Qusani blood. It’s written in the constitution. This woman’s father was Danish. She’s not suitable as your consort.’

Annalisa barely heard the thud of heavy doors closing. Her mind was filled with the brutal words she’d not been meant to hear.

Tahir’s advisor proposed to pay her off with cash then set her up somewhere so she could be the King’s…what? Mistress? Concubine? Even for Qusay the idea was medieval.

As for the requirement for pure Qusani blood! Right now
her
blood, pure or not, was boiling at the man’s attitude. How could he take such an antiquated view of the world? Hadn’t he heard of the twenty-first century?

She shot to her feet and paced the small salon.

To be discussed as if she were a problem, a
thing
to be moved or used or discarded as they saw fit! To be rejected because she wasn’t royal, or because her father had been born in Copenhagen! She was as much a Qusani as Tahir and his precious Akmal. More so. Unlike Tahir, she’d lived here all her life—and, unlike his advisor, not in a gilded palace but with ordinary Qusanis.

How dared they belittle her like that?

Fury surged in her bloodstream, propelling her across the room and out of the door.

She’d wondered if Tahir could ever love her and now she had her answer. Now she knew exactly what to do. It was time to go home.

T
AHIR
strode down the frescoed corridor, eager to reach his destination.

The day had been difficult. The cleaning-up work after the earthquake continued, and organising emergency housing and supplies for the dispossessed was a massive undertaking.

Then there was the matter of his marriage.

He’d reckoned without the obstinacy of the Council of Elders, who stuck blindly to the old ways. They wanted him married, all right, but to a woman of their choosing. It was only today he’d learned exactly how far they’d take their opposition.

Strange how they were willing to accept him, a prodigal returned, as their monarch, but quibbled over his choice of wife.

He set his jaw, remembering his recent interview with Akmal. The vizier was determined to force his hand and manoeuvre him into marrying a princess.

Tahir slipped a hand into his trouser pocket, grasping it on the weighty package there. His lips curved in a smile of anticipation.

With this gift he planned to get everything he wanted from Annalisa.

‘What’s the meaning of this?’ Tahir strode past the suitcase lying open on the bed, half full of her clothes. He followed the sound of movement into the nearby dressing room and slammed to a stop.

Annalisa stood there, wearing nothing but lace panties and bra. On the floor at her feet lay of pool of crimson silk embroidered with pearls. He recognised it instantly: a dress he’d ordered for Annalisa to go with the pearl and ruby diadem he’d present her with when they married. He’d asked his mother to give her the dress, knowing his fiancée, with her quaint scruples, would balk at accepting it from him.

Annalisa’s face was chalky, her expression mutinous as she stared back at him. No mistaking the anger sparking in her gaze, nor the hurt tightening her mouth.

What had happened to the warm, accommodating woman he’d left in bed just hours ago?

‘I’m leaving. That’s what it means.’

She drew a deep breath, and despite his confusion he couldn’t help appreciating the way her breasts lifted in their lace cups.

‘And stop looking at me like that!’ Her eyes flashed. ‘I’m not a plaything for your enjoyment.’ She stooped and retrieved the dress, holding it in front of her.

‘You’re not going anywhere.’ The notion was unthinkable. He strode nearer and his blood ran cold as she backed away.

She shook her head and her unbound hair swirled around her bare shoulders, reminding him of the way she’d lain in his arms through the night. The way she’d made him feel: pleasured, triumphant, whole. Curiously at peace.

‘I’m leaving and you can’t stop me.’ Her chin lifted in the sign of quiet resolution he knew so well.

‘Annalisa?’ A curious sensation began deep in his gut. A roiling, unsettled feeling he remembered from another time, another life.

Anxiety.
Fear.

The notion of her walking out of his life made a yawning void open up before him. Worse than the agony he’d endured at his father’s hands. Worse even than the blank grey nothingness that had haunted him before he came here.

Pain transfixed him, froze his heart as he read her bitterness and anger.

She couldn’t go. He wouldn’t allow it.

‘Of course you’ll stay.’ He tried to sound reasonable, but the words emerged brusquely.

‘No! What have I got to stay for?’ She lifted her chin still higher in unconscious arrogance and Tahir’s certainty crumbled.

‘To be with me.’

Or had she decided he was too flawed? That he wasn’t worth the risk? A man with a past like his had no right expecting a woman like Annalisa to want him. But he did. He had from the first.

She blinked, and he thought he saw her eyes glaze with tears. He started forward, but again she retreated.

‘That’s enough, you think?’

Her words pierced him to the core. He’d finally realised what he wanted from Annalisa, only to have her reject him out of hand.

He should accept her decision. An honourable man would. But Tahir had no pretensions to honour. Not if that meant letting her go.

His eyes blazed fire as he closed the gap between them, looming over her, all male aggression and power.

A tiny part of her revelled in the fact that he wanted her so badly, even though it was only for sex. As his mistress on the side. Even now she responded to him physically, wanted him so badly.

‘Don’t touch me!’

But it was too late. His hands curled round her shoulders, hauling her close so he engulfed her senses, his body hard against hers, the scent of his skin sabotaging her resolve.

‘You love it when I touch you.’ His look told her he knew her weakness and intended to make the most of it. He slid an arm around her bare back and secured her tightly.

The air around them shimmered with tension, with sparks of electricity, with combustible emotional energy.

‘No!’ She couldn’t afford to give in now—not when she’d gathered the strength to do what she must.

But her resistance had no effect. He slipped his other hand over her breast, moulding it in a possessive grasp that sent desire shuddering through her.

How was she meant to withstand him when she couldn’t fight her own weakness?

‘Please, Tahir. No.’ She squeezed her eyes shut and her head lolled as she arched instinctively in his hold, pressing wantonly for more.

‘
Yes,
Annalisa. You
will
be mine. Whatever I have to do. Whatever it takes.’ He dragged in a rough breath. ‘I gave you up once before. At the oasis I deliberately baited and insulted you so you’d turn away and not look back. I didn’t deserve you and I knew it, so for that day I became the sort of shallow bastard I knew you’d abhor.’

The urgency of his words, the deep hoarse timbre of his voice, mesmerised her.

‘I owe you apologies for that. You don’t know how it cut me to hurt you that day, when all I wanted was to drag you close and not release you.’ Searing blue eyes met hers. ‘
But I can’t do it again. I can’t force myself to give you up. You can’t expect it of me.’

Was it true? Had his loutish behaviour been a ploy to scare her off? She could barely believe it. Yet it would explain the puzzling difference between his behaviour then and since. Could he have cared so much and behaved so foolishly?

Yet what did it change? Nothing.

She shook her head in mute desperation, knowing she had to escape before she succumbed to him again. But her body already betrayed her. With Tahir she lost the will for self-preservation. He even undermined her pride.

‘I can’t—’

‘You can, Annalisa. You will.’ He mouthed the words against her neck as he swept kisses over her throat.

‘For how long, Tahir?’ Anguish drew the words from her. ‘How long will you want me as your mistress? How long before the next woman takes your fancy?’

He froze, hands tightening on her. She felt the heavy thud
of his heart through the thin fabric. Finally he raised his head and she met his curiously blank stare.

‘There will be no other woman.’ The words sounded like a vow. ‘I’ve never wanted a woman the way I want you. I never
will
want another woman.

How self-delusional could she get? She shook her head, trying to dislodge the illusion that he meant it.

‘So you say.’ She spat the words out. ‘Will you expect to keep me somewhere conveniently close and still come home to your royal wife?’

His head reared back as if struck. Dull colour mounted his high cheeks.

‘What are you talking about?
You’ll
be my wife.’

If she didn’t know better she’d believe the confusion on his face. Even now it was a struggle to accept the truth. Tahir had never lied to her before.

‘Don’t.’ She pushed fruitlessly against his broad chest. ‘Don’t pretend. I know you’ve cancelled the wedding. And I know why.’ She turned her head, unable to meet his piercing gaze any longer. ‘I know you can’t marry me. I’m not
suitable.
’ The word tasted bitter on her tongue.

All her life she’d been an outsider. Never more so than now, when she wasn’t deemed good enough to marry the man she loved.

Tahir swore, long and low and comprehensively.

‘Who told you that?’ His voice sliced the air like a cold steel blade, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. ‘Give me his name, Annalisa.’

She turned her head, shivering at the deadly intent she read in his taut features.

‘Who was it?’ His voice burred with barely veiled threat.

‘I heard it with my own ears, Tahir. You and Akmal. There’s no use pretending.’

He tugged her hard against him, arms encompassing her. ‘I wouldn’t have had you overhear that for anything.’

‘No. I’m sure.’ She tried to stand rigid within his embrace but it was impossible.

‘I thought you’d decided you couldn’t trust yourself and the baby to a man like me.’ The echo of pain in his voice drew her skin tighter. ‘That you hold my past against me.’

‘No!’ She was aghast he’d even think it. ‘This isn’t about trusting you as a father.’

Her throat closed as she realised how much she wanted him as a hands-on dad for their child.

‘This isn’t about you, Tahir. It’s about me. About the fact that I won’t make a suitable queen.’ She lifted her head. ‘And about the fact you don’t want to marry me. Now, please,’ she said, summoning the last of her pride, ‘don’t make this harder. Let me go.’ Her voice wobbled and she bit her lip hard, striving for control.

Tahir stepped back and instantly she craved his touch. She wanted to burrow herself in his embrace and say she’d take whatever he’d give her, no matter how fleeting.

He stood proud and tall. A strong man. The man who owned her heart and soul.
The man who could never be hers.

A sob rose in her chest and jammed her throat. She wrapped her arms round herself, hugging the crimson silk close, knowing her dream was over.

‘You fill my life, Annalisa. You make me whole.
That’s
what matters.’

Slowly, without taking his eyes from hers, Tahir reached into a pocket and drew out a velvet pouch embroidered with gold. He opened it, plunged his hand inside and withdrew something that shimmered fire.

‘You will be the finest queen Qusay has known. Not just because of your compassion and intelligence. But because I love you, Annalisa.’ He held out his hand. ‘Do you hear me? I love you and I want you to be my wife. Not only for the sake of our child, but because I can’t imagine my life without you by my side.’

He unfurled his fingers and a thousand scintillating lights dazzled her. Emeralds and diamonds spilled from his hand in a massive sparkling web.

Her breath stopped as she realised what it was: the Queen’s Necklace. A royal symbol of power and wealth dating back
centuries to the time, it was said, of the first emerald mines in Qusay. It was given to each new queen as a sign of her paramount place in the kingdom and of her husband’s fidelity.

Annalisa’s knees crumpled, and only Tahir’s strong hands stopped her collapsing. Against one bare shoulder she felt the cold touch of peerless gems. They were real.

‘Annalisa! Say something.’ His voice was hoarse with passion.

‘But you can’t—’ She struggled for words as she grappled to understand. ‘You don’t—’

‘Love you? Of course I do.’ His hands tightened against her. ‘Can you forgive me for not realising sooner? It’s still a new concept to me. But if knowing I never want to be anywhere but by your side means love, and wanting to grow old with you, watching our children and their children, then I love you.’ He dragged in a huge breath. ‘You make me dare to want what I never dreamed of before: the love of one special woman.’

Her heart swelled at the look in his eyes.

‘The question is, do you trust me enough to be my wife?’ A shadow of doubt darkened his clear blue gaze. ‘I’ll do my best to be a good husband. And I’ll learn to be the sort of father our child needs.’

Annalisa had never seen him so earnest. Never before felt the emotion that flowed from him in warm waves. Love, strong and pure.

‘Of course I trust you, Tahir.’ She raised her hands and cupped his strong jaw. ‘I love you. I’ve always loved you.’ Fire blazed in his eyes and, emboldened, she leaned close to kiss him, her heart overflowing with a happiness she’d never thought possible.

‘Wait! Let me do this first.’

Bewildered, she saw him lift one hand and turn her round. In the full-length mirror on the wall she saw their reflection. Tahir behind her, raising the net of stones, massive emeralds interspersed with teardrop diamonds, over her head.

The crimson dress had already dropped unheeded to the floor and she stood, naked but for her lace underwear, as he fastened the elegant necklace, a king’s ransom, around her throat.

Her eyes widened at the weight of it, the sheer magnificence. But it was Tahir’s hands, slipping round to undo her bra and tug it away, that absorbed her attention. The sight of them together, of his bronzed hands moving purposefully on her paler flesh, sent ripples of desire through her.

‘My perfect bride,’ he murmured against her neck as he cupped her breasts with warm hands.

Fire sizzled through her and she sagged back against him, eyes fluttering shut.

‘But I’m not. I’m not royal. I’m half-foreign.’

‘You’re perfect,’ he said again, nipping the sensitive flesh beneath her ear.

This time, hearing the love in his words, she dared to believe.

‘That’s why I cancelled the wedding arrangements. I realised last night I couldn’t take you as my wife in some second-rate ceremony. I want the world to know when I make you my bride.’ His breath was warm on her skin. ‘It will take longer to arrange, but we’re having the biggest wedding Qusay has ever seen.’

‘But you can’t. The constitution…’ Her words petered out under the sheer weight of sensual pleasure as he massaged her breasts and kissed her bare shoulders.

‘The constitution will be changed. If Qusay wants me as King, then you will be my Queen. I met with Akmal today to make my ultimatum, and believe me…’ he paused on a chuckle ‘…I made my point forcefully. Arrangements are being made as we speak.’ He nuzzled her neck. ‘Now, open your eyes,
habibti.
’