The Sheikh Crowns His Virgin Page 7

  Since she didn’t have much choice, Zoe turned away and snaked back to her own side of the bed, defensively turning her back to him. She had only herself to blame for the way she felt, she thought unhappily. She had told him she wasn’t interested in sex, had shown him her fear and, in return, he had sworn not to touch her. Naturally he was angry that he had broken that pledge. Sixth sense told her that Raj didn’t usually break promises and probably didn’t think much of those who did. But he had warned her earlier that he found her attractive and their current circumstances of false intimacy and mutual dependence only made resistance more difficult.

  But for the first time in her life, Zoe had wanted a man and she knew that she wasn’t likely to forget the crazy buzz of excitement that he had unleashed inside her. She, she reflected in mortification, had been more tempted than he was because he had quickly called a halt.

  And what had she wanted to do?

  To her eternal shame, she had wanted to snatch him back and make him keep on kissing her and, not only that, in the back of her mind she had been well aware that she craved more than that. Somehow, and she really didn’t know how or when it had happened, she was finally ready to try sex, to experiment, but there was no room for sex in their agreement, particularly in a marriage destined to last only a few months.

  When she wakened in the morning, Raj was gone, but one of her suitcases sat in a prominent position near the bed. With a smile of relief, she got up and went to open it before going to freshen up. Clad in light cotton trousers and a pink top, teamed with glittery sandals, she found breakfast awaiting her on her return. She was really hungry and tucked in with appetite, although she was no fan of the yogurt drink included, reckoning it was probably one of those healthy options that she rarely enjoyed.

  She walked out of the tent and an explosion of utterly unexpected colour greeted her. A field of flowers stretched before her and she walked in amongst the colourful blooms in wonderment at such a floral display in so seemingly inhospitable a landscape.

  ‘Zoe...stay where you are!’ Raj shouted at her, incensed to see her outside and unprotected and wandering with a toddler’s absence of caution.

  ‘What on earth—?’ she began, glancing up from the pink, purple and mauve blooms she was studying as she crouched.

  But Raj, black curls shining, was sheathed in jeans and a T-shirt and already striding towards her, careless of the flowers he crushed beneath his feet, clearly untouched by the beauty of the scene. He scooped her up bodily in his arms, exclaiming in Arabic. ‘And what the hell are you wearing on your feet?’ he then demanded incredulously.

  ‘Sandals!’ she snapped. ‘You stood on the flowers of an asphodelus fistulosus and it was the only one in this mass of bugloss.’

  ‘There are scorpions and snakes, lying in the shade below the flowers!’ Raj bit out, startling her. ‘Here you wear only proper footwear that protects you.’

  ‘Oh... OK.’ Zoe nodded, recognising concern and superior knowledge when she saw it. ‘I didn’t know...but the flowers were so beautiful.’

  Raj carried her back to the tent, thinking that he would never forget that first glimpse of her in that sea of flowers, white-blonde hair falling to her waist and glittering like highly polished platinum in the sunlight, and those huge green eyes blinking dazedly up at him as he lifted her, full of shock and incomprehension of the risk she had taken. He had trod on pretty flowers and it had bothered her. She was sensitive, also possibly a little ditzy to walk out thoughtlessly into what could be a very hostile environment. But it was his duty to take care of her, watch over her, his job to protect. And the enormity of such a responsibility sat heavy on his shoulders for an instant because he had never been responsible for another human being before.

  Nor did he want to be responsible, he told himself staunchly. He would take care of her to the best of his ability without ever forgetting that she was not truly his wife and he refused to think of her as such. Zoe was a short-term prospect, not a keeper. He would be ice, he would remain impervious to her charms. He was not about to complicate things by getting too involved with her. He had hard limits and he would observe them, retaining softer feelings, if he could even experience such emotions again, for his future real wife. There would be none to waste on Zoe, even if she looked adorable posed amidst flowers. What an asinine thought that was! He surely had more sense than that, enough intelligence to keep his distance, he instructed himself bitterly; he had learned his lesson with Nabila.

  Innocent didn’t mean she was a virgin. He would never believe a woman’s word on that score again! Cute didn’t mean trustworthy. Nabila had lied like a trooper and he had not recognised her deceit. Adorable definitely didn’t mean loveable. Cute and adorable were words that should never feature in his vocabulary because caring about the wrong woman hurt like hell and he wasn’t revisiting that mistake for anybody!

  CHAPTER FIVE

  WITHIN AN HOUR a brief flight in the helicopter returned them to the palace.

  Zoe walked through an ancient porticoed entrance and instantly felt as though she had been transported into another world and another time. An awe-inspiring giant hallway full of pillars and elaborately tiled walls greeted her as well as a wealth of fawning servants, some of whom were in actual tears welcoming Raj back to his home. Brushing off their blandishments with palpable embarrassment, Raj hurried her on into the building while a cohort of attentive staff fell in behind them.

  ‘My father has placed us in the oldest part of the palace, which is...unfortunate,’ he told her in a clipped undertone. ‘It is, however, where the Crown Prince always has his apartments, so I cannot fault him for following tradition.’

  ‘Why’s it unfortunate, then?’ she queried uneasily, even while her eyes fled continually to her surroundings. She was enthralled by the exotic quality of the internal courtyard gardens she espied from the stairs and the fabulous views out over the desert, not to mention the stonework, the domed roofs and the stern palace guards, dressed as though they had stepped out of a medieval painting, armed with swords and great curved knives. The palace was everything she had dreamt of when first coming to Maraban but far more grand and mysterious than she had naïvely expected.

  ‘Only one bedroom has been prepared for us,’ Raj breathed curtly, his strong jaw line clenching. ‘It will be difficult to give you privacy.’

  ‘We’ll manage,’ Zoe told him with an insouciance she could not have contemplated before meeting him in the flesh. She knew in her very bones that she could trust Raj, believed that he would never try to force her into anything, but when she pondered that conviction, she was challenged to understand why she had such faith in him. He’d shown her empathy, tenderness, kindness the night before, she reminded herself ruefully.

  ‘That is very generous of you but not strictly within our agreement,’ Raj pointed out, refusing to be soothed.

  ‘Can’t be helped,’ Zoe murmured, breathless from trying to keep up with his long stride as he traversed long corridors at speed and mounted flights of stone stairs with lithe ease. ‘This is a very large building.’

  ‘But not modernised,’ Raj retorted grimly, throwing wide a door before a hovering servant could reach for it and guiding her into a simply vast room in which a bed hunched apologetically in one corner.

  ‘Plenty of space though!’ Zoe carolled like Job’s comforter.

  The remainder of her cases were already parked along with the one that had travelled out to the desert encampment. A maid glided up and tilted one suggestively, looking eager to unpack, while Raj stalked across the huge Persian rug, like a jungle predator at bay looking for something else to complain about.

  A connecting room, she quickly learned, contained cavernous wardrobes.

  ‘This suite was last occupied by my father fifty-odd years ago,’ Raj informed her grimly. ‘You can tell.’

  ‘You didn’t use these rooms when you were younger?’

  ‘No. Before my marriage I was expected to live in my father’s household.’

  Zoe passed on into a ridiculously gigantic bathroom with a great domed roof studded with star tiles. The bathroom fittings huddled somewhat pathetically against the walls. ‘It just needs more furniture,’ she told Raj with determined cheer. ‘We could have one of those fainting couches in the middle and I could lie there like Cleopatra eating grapes.’

  His starlit eyes focused on her without warning, an intensity within that look that made something quiver and burn low in her pelvis. ‘Naked?’

  ‘Whatever turns you on,’ Zoe mumbled, face burning, outclassed in her attempt to be light-hearted and dropping her head even while she pictured herself lying there naked for Raj’s enjoyment. A ridiculous fantasy, she scolded herself, for there would be nothing particularly sexy or seductive about her very small curves on display.

  ‘I have staff to introduce you to now,’ Raj announced, biting back the comment that seeing her naked in any circumstances would work a treat for him. There would be no flirtation between them, he instructed himself harshly, no foolishness.

  ‘Staff?’ she exclaimed in dismay.

  ‘Principally my PR team, but you will have your own PA to keep you well informed of events. My father has made certain requests. He would like you to give an interview to our leading newspaper.’

  Zoe had frozen. ‘An...interview?’ she yelped in dismay.

  ‘Saying how you feel about arriving in your grandmother’s country and being on the brink of a state wedding. My team will advise you and remain with you during it. There is also a fashion stylist, who will recommend a suitable wedding dress and new clothes.’

  ‘I brought a wedding dress and an entire wardrobe with me,’ she informed him helpfully.

  ‘It would be distasteful to me were you to wear the dress you purchased for the marriage you planned to make to my uncle,’ Raj delivered succinctly. ‘You will wear nothing bought for that purpose.’

  Zoe just couldn’t see why it should matter what she wore. ‘Don’t you think you’re being too particular?’

  Raj settled hard black eyes on her, startling her. ‘No. I know what I like. I know what I don’t like. The concept of you wearing anything chosen with another man in mind offends me.’

  Zoe sucked in a sustaining breath, deciding that he was more sensitive to her past history than she had appreciated. She returned to supervising the maid hanging her clothes because it seemed safer to keep her head down.

  ‘You will be kept very busy over the next few days choosing wedding apparel,’ Raj informed her from the doorway.

  ‘Can I use your phone for a few minutes?’ Zoe asked abruptly. ‘Mine needs charging and I want to catch up with my sisters and my grandfather.’

  ‘Of course.’ Raj dug out his phone, cleared the password and handed it to her. ‘I will see you later.’

  And then, just like that, he was gone and she was staring at the space where he had been, all black silky curls with his dark, devastatingly beautiful face taut and uninformative. She had wanted him to stay with her, had wanted more. For a charged moment, she couldn’t cope with seeing that large gap between reasonable expectation and sheer idiocy for, naturally, Raj wasn’t planning to hover over her like a protective and loving spouse because he wasn’t really her husband in the truest sense of the word. No, he was genuinely offering her what she had told herself she needed and craved: an independent life in which they would live separate in mind and body. So why did that sensible arrangement now seem much less inviting? Why did his attitude currently feel like something of a rejection? She shook off that strange notion and told herself to stop overthinking everything before she drove herself mad.

  Her grandfather was delighted to hear from her and eager to be assured that Raj was treating her properly, while adding that he would be arriving for the wedding, the fierce pride in his voice as he mentioned ‘state’ wedding so strong that it made her roll her eyes and swallow back a sigh. Winnie and Vivi were far less accepting of the change of bridegroom.

  ‘He’s a lot younger than the oldie,’ Vivi warned her worriedly. ‘Make sure he doesn’t try to get too friendly because he may have a different agenda.’

  And when Zoe protested about how kind and considerate Raj had been so far, Winnie snorted. ‘He’s a prince, a future king—obviously he’ll be full of himself. And I looked him up online...he’s incredibly good-looking. Watch out for him trying to change the terms of your agreement.’

  But when Zoe went to bed that night there was no sign of Raj being full of himself or looking to change the terms of anything. He had joined her earlier for dinner out in their private courtyard, a space shaded by towering and somewhat neglected trees and shrubs, and he had then excused himself to work. She had been measured up for a new wardrobe, had looked at length at designer dresses on a screen and had stated her preferences. By the end of the day she was too exhausted to stay awake, wondering where Raj was.

  Raj worked late into the night before bedding down on the sofa in his office. It was the safe option. A vision of Zoe naked troubled his rest and at four in the morning he was on his phone trying to find out what a fainting couch was; for some reason he was determined to buy one regardless of cost. He groaned out loud at the conflict tearing at him. He didn’t want to get involved. He didn’t want to have sex with her...except when his resistance was at a low ebb. Why the hell would he buy a fainting couch for her to pose on? He found a purple velvet one hung with tassels and pictured her with a driven exhalation of breath before he thumped the cushion beneath his head. No couch, no flirtation, no sex, no intimacy whatsoever, he reminded himself grimly.

  * * *

  ‘Well, I couldn’t say much for the accommodation,’ Vivi remarked with a decided sniff.

  Zoe bit back a tart response because her sister had been making critical comments ever since she had arrived the night before and it was starting to annoy her. ‘It’s very comfortable and Raj says I can take furniture from any of the unused rooms in the palace or buy new stuff, but contemporary wouldn’t really work in surroundings like these. I haven’t had time yet to change anything with all this wedding craziness going on.’

  ‘That monster bathroom is just ridiculous,’ Vivi opined snarkily.

  ‘Raj’s father wouldn’t agree to any structural alterations when the bathrooms first went in. As far as he can, the King wants to preserve the palace as it was when he took the throne and I can understand that. It’s a very old and historic building and he feels more like the custodian for future generations than the owner who has a free hand,’ Zoe pointed out.

  ‘You’ve got more confident...that’s clear and I definitely approve of that,’ her eldest sister, Winnie, said warmly. ‘Here you are giving interviews and the like. I never thought I’d see the day.’

  ‘Oh, the interview was easy,’ Zoe carolled. ‘Raj’s PR team headed off any too personal questions for me and advised me on what to wear and all the rest of it.’

  ‘But you picked your own wedding gown,’ Winnie said knowingly, scrutinising the tiny glittering figure of her youngest sister. The dress was an elegant sleeved sheath with a modest neckline. Elaborate embroidery sewn with crystals and pearls adorned the lightweight tulle and it was the perfect fit for her petite frame. ‘It’s very chic.’

  ‘Oh, stop changing the subject, Winnie,’ Vivi cut in curtly, keen to cut through the chit-chat to what she believed was truly important, which was protecting Zoe. ‘You know that you’re as worried as I am. We talked about it last night.’

  ‘And we’re not going to talk about it any more,’ Winnie declared, throwing her fiery sibling a pleading look. ‘It was Zoe’s decision to do this and the deed is done. They’re already married.’

  ‘With one bedroom in a palace the size of a small city!’ Vivi interrupted worriedly, seriously suspicious of that development. ‘How’s she going to fight off a guy twice her size?’

  Zoe paled at the tenor of the conversation. ‘I won’t have to fight him off. Raj sleeps elsewhere. We haven’t had to share a bed since that first night I told you about, and that was kind of unavoidable and he apologised for it.’

  ‘Raj is smooth, sophisticated, predatory,’ Vivi outlined in condemnation, finally speaking her mind, for she had taken one look at Raj in all his good-looking, silkily soft-spoken glory and seen him as a major threat to the terrifyingly innocent and fragile little sister she loved. How could such a very handsome and wealthy man not be predatory? Zoe’s near rape had almost destroyed her and Vivi didn’t want her sister plunged into any situation that could threaten her peace of mind. ‘I would imagine he is never stuck for the right word in a difficult situation.’

  ‘He’s not predatory,’ Zoe argued with distaste. ‘He’s been kind. He’s courteous and considerate and that’s all we need right now.’

  ‘Leave it, Vivi,’ Winnie said ruefully. ‘All you’re doing is putting more pressure on her.’

  Zoe’s hand shook a little as she reapplied her lipstick. She was furious that Vivi had called Raj predatory after only meeting him for an hour over the formal dinner that had been staged the night before. Stam Fotakis, her grandfather, had been grudgingly impressed by Raj, pointing out to her with satisfaction that, unlike her sisters’ husbands, Raj had never been tagged a womaniser.

  Diamonds flashed with every movement of her body. Raj had sent her jewel cases containing a tiara, a necklace and earrings. She didn’t know whether they were family heirlooms or bought specially for her use and she hadn’t had the chance to ask him because she had barely seen Raj since their move to the palace two weeks earlier. He joined her for dinner every evening but his manner was formal and distant and she didn’t know how to break through that façade.

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