The Sheikh Crowns His Virgin Page 8

  And although she had tried to penetrate that barrier to establish a friendlier vibe, Raj remained resolutely detached and very, very polite. His attitude frustrated the hell out of her. She didn’t know what the matter with him was or what was travelling through his brain. The warmer, milder, more approachable side of Raj had vanished as though it had never been.

  Although she could have had no suspicion of the fact, Raj’s attitude was frustrating his royal parent even more.

  ‘Any normal man would want to keep her!’ King Tahir was proclaiming to his stony-faced son.

  ‘I have no intention of keeping Zoe as a wife,’ Raj asserted quietly. ‘You knew that going into this.’

  ‘She’s a beautiful, gentle girl. Everyone who has met her has talked highly of her. She could be a tremendous asset to you with her personality and ancestry,’ his father fumed. ‘Why are you sleeping in your office with a beautiful wife in your bed? Have you forgotten how to woo a woman?’

  The obstinacy that ran through Raj like a steel backbone flared and he gritted his teeth. ‘She agreed to a fake marriage and I will abide by that agreement as I will abide by the one I made with you.’

  The King paced the floor and silence fell. It was the silence of unresolved differences and residual bitterness that most often distinguished meetings between father and son. It took effort for the older man to persist. ‘I loved your mother. I know she was unhappy as my wife but I loved her very much and the mode of her death devastated me,’ he bit out harshly. ‘I have to live with my regrets and my mistakes but I still remain grateful for the time I had with her.’

  Raj swallowed hard, unable even to look at his father and utterly taken aback by that confession. He had never realised that his father actually loved his mother but he did recall that, after her passing, the older man had lived like a hermit for over a year. Not guilt so much as grief, Raj adjusted now, his view of the past softening the trauma of loss just a little.

  Ironically, even appreciating that could not lift his gloom because there was nothing to celebrate when marrying a very beautiful woman who appealed to him on every level but who would ultimately leave him. His mother had left him by taking her own life, Nabila had left him through betrayal of all that he held dear. But then, hadn’t he agreed that Zoe would ultimately leave him? Hard cheekbones colouring at that timely recollection, he reminded himself that he was in control of events and walking the path he had chosen. By the time Zoe walked out of his life again, he would surely be glad to reclaim his freedom.

  * * *

  The state wedding was so official and serious that Zoe’s face ached with her set and determined smile. Being the cynosure of all eyes was taxing for her, but she wouldn’t let herself dwell on that reality because she was well aware that all brides were subject to close scrutiny. Instead she reminded herself that she was lucky enough to have her grandfather, her sisters and their husbands with her for support. Sadly, the formality of the event had persuaded her sisters that their young children were better left at home and she suppressed a sigh. Winnie’s son, Teddy, was a very lively little boy and her toddler daughter was full of mischief while as for Vivi’s twin boys, sitting still for any length of time was a massive challenge for them, but Zoe was still disappointed not to have had some time with her nephews and niece because she had always adored children and had grieved over the truth that she was unlikely to have any of her own.

  Yet her recognition of her attraction to Raj and her enjoyment of that amazing kiss had made her think that just maybe there was hope for her in the future. Maybe some day, after all, she would be able to have a relationship with a man like any normal woman, and if that happened then she just might have children of her own to love and care for eventually. More than anything else, what she had learned about herself since arriving in Maraban had convinced her that staying in her grandmother’s country was the very best thing she could do to steer herself back into the land of the living. There was a whole world out there waiting to be discovered and for the first time in years she was filled with hope and optimism.

  In the short term, however, she acknowledged wryly, there was the marrying, the constant smiling and the solemn bridegroom to contend with at their reception. If a smile had cracked Raj’s face once she must not have been around to see it. A half-smile would play about the corner of his full sensual lips in the most infuriatingly tantalising way and she would watch and watch those lean, darkly beautiful features of his, but the real thing never quite made it, even for the authorised wedding photographs, which had proved to be an exercise in rigid formality.

  Yet everywhere in Raj’s radius, a virtual party was in swing, his return to being Crown Prince clearly a development that was celebrated by the many important guests attending, who ranged from visiting royal connections to business tycoons, top diplomats and local VIPs. His popularity was undeniable, although he was quick to dampen comments that tactlessly suggested that some day he would take Maraban forward in a different way from his father. Zoe sat through a lot of business talk before escaping back in the direction of her sisters.

  She had already done her stint with Queen Ayshah, who had employed Farida as a translator and had embarrassed the other young woman greatly by insisting on passing on her convictions of what it took to be a good royal wife. A feminist would have had a field day with those rules, Zoe reflected with strong amusement, but then the elderly Queen had grown up in a different world where a woman’s happiness and even her life could be utterly dependent on retaining her husband’s favour. Thankfully, Raj would have no such power over her, Zoe thought fondly as she took a detour towards the cloakroom before approaching Winnie and Vivi.

  In the big anteroom surrounding the cloakroom, a tall, slender woman rose from a chair and addressed her. ‘Your Royal Highness?’ she murmured with modestly evasive eyes. ‘May I have a word?’

  Zoe looked up into one of the most beautiful faces she had ever seen: a flawless oval graced by almond-shaped brown eyes with remarkable lashes, a classic slim nose and a pouty full mouth. The woman wore a sophisticated silk suit, tailored with precision to show off her well-formed figure and falling to her ankles while still toeing the line of local mores on modest dress. The pale golden hue of the outfit set off her glowing olive colouring and her wealth of tumbling black wavy hair to perfection.

  ‘I am Nabila Sulaman,’ she revealed in a very quiet voice. ‘I was Raj’s first girlfriend and, as I’m sure you’re aware, it ended badly between us.’

  Thoroughly disconcerted by that introduction, Zoe merely gave an uncertain nod while her mind raced to understand why the wretched woman would want to approach her.

  ‘I run one of your grandfather’s construction firms and he brought me here with his party of business people. I would definitely not have received an invite on my own behalf,’ Nabila admitted, startling Zoe even more with that freely offered information. ‘I’m very much a career woman and I don’t want past mistakes to taint my future now that I’ve returned to Maraban to work. My parents suffered a great deal over my short-lived relationship with Raj. My father is a diplomat but he has been continually passed over for promotion since I blotted my copybook with the royal family. I am speaking to you now because a lot of time has passed since then and I was hoping that you could persuade Raj to bury the hatchet.’

  Zoe winced at that bold suggestion. ‘I’m sorry but I don’t think I’m the right person to intercede for you. I don’t interfere with Raj’s life and he doesn’t interfere with mine.’

  ‘How very modern he must have become,’ Nabila remarked with a dismissive toss of her beautiful head and an amused smile. ‘Well, I think you should know that I’m in charge of the Josias project as CEO of Major Holdings, and that Raj and I will be working together in the near future. Please make him aware of that. I’m leaving now.’

  ‘But Raj is here. You could speak to him yourself,’ Zoe pointed out.

 
‘No. I don’t want to put him in an awkward position and surprise him in front of an audience,’ Nabila declared with assurance. ‘We haven’t seen each other since we broke up.’

  ‘Oh...’ Bemused, Zoe watched the poised brunette walk away again and she entered the cloakroom with a lot on her mind. Nabila was gorgeous, clever and successful and had once been the woman Raj loved and wanted to marry, Zoe reflected ruefully. Loved and wanted to marry a long time ago. Eight years back, she reminded herself, practically pre-history in date. But even though that was her mindset she still headed straight for her grandfather to check out his opinion of the brunette.

  ‘Nabila Sulaman? She’s one tough cookie, a real go-getter,’ Stam opined. ‘Had to be to get so far in the construction field. She’s Raj’s ex?’ Her grandfather grimaced. ‘I wouldn’t have included her in my party if I’d been aware of that.’

  ‘Oh, it doesn’t bother me,’ Zoe hastened to proclaim just as her sisters joined them and then, of course, the entirety of her short conversation with Nabila had to be recounted.

  ‘She’s got some brass neck!’ Vivi declared. ‘I wish I’d been with you. Didn’t you learn anything from us growing up?’

  Zoe blinked and studied her sibling’s exasperated expression. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You don’t tangle with an ex. You certainly don’t give her any information... I mean, what you were thinking of, telling her that you and Raj don’t interfere in each other’s lives?’ Vivi demanded ruefully. ‘How normal does that sound? You want the ex to think you’re the love match of the century.’

  ‘Put a sock in it, Vivi,’ Winnie cut in. ‘Zoe doesn’t have to pretend if she doesn’t want to. It’s a marriage of convenience and both of them know and accept that. It’s not personal for them the way it was for you and me.’

  Zoe had lost colour. No, it was not personal, she repeated staunchly to herself, because, unlike her sisters and their husbands, Zoe had had no prior relationship with Raj before their marriage. Yet even in acknowledging that truth she was taken aback by the revelation that she would have liked to have scratched Nabila’s beautiful eyes out because Nabila had hurt Raj. A long time ago, she reminded herself afresh, and he was perfectly capable of looking out for himself.

  When the festivities were almost at an end, Zoe went to change into more comfortable clothing for their journey. They were to be out of the public eye for two weeks and she couldn’t wait to reclaim some privacy. Apparently, the royal family owned a very comfortable villa by the Gulf on the Banian side of Maraban, and Raj had already promised to show her the beauties of her grandmother’s birthplace, which was greener and less arid in landscape. She pulled on a light skirt and T-shirt, teaming them with a pair of glitzy high sandals, one of the many, many pairs she harboured in her wardrobe but had never previously worn. She had a serious shoe fetish and knew it.

  ‘We’re fortunate to be making so early an escape,’ Raj remarked, sliding into the limo beside her, a lean, lithe figure in jeans and a shirt, his black curls tousled as though he had changed out of his wedding finery in as much of a hurry as her. ‘If my father wasn’t so eager to pack us off on a honeymoon, the celebrations would have lasted all week.’

  ‘Farida mentioned that weddings usually last for days here, but then it was our second time round the block,’ she pointed out before pressing on, doing what her conscience told her she had to do, which was to warn Raj that he would be working with his ex on some project that she didn’t recall the name of. ‘I met your ex-girlfriend, Nabila, at the reception.’

  Raj’s arrogant head turned, a frown building, his lean, darkly handsome face forbidding. ‘That is not possible. She would not have been invited. Nabila is a common name in Maraban.’

  ‘Apparently she came in my grandfather’s party of guests,’ Zoe persisted. ‘She’s the CEO of some company called Major Holdings and she asked me to warn you that you would be working with her on some project.’

  ‘The Josias hospital project.’ Raj’s intense dark eyes shimmered almost silver in the fading light. ‘But I need no warning. I am not so sensitive,’ he breathed with roughened emphasis.

  And then he didn’t say another word for what remained of the fairly lengthy journey that took them to the airport and a flight and, finally, a bumpy trip in a SUV. And, unfortunately that brooding silence told Zoe everything she didn’t want to know or surmise about the exact level of Raj’s sensitivity. He was like a pot of oil simmering on a fire but all emotion and reaction was rigidly suppressed by very strong self-control that acted like a lid. But knowing that, accepting that she hadn’t a clue what he was thinking, didn’t make Zoe feel any happier. For the first time with Raj, she felt very alone and isolated...

  CHAPTER SIX

  WITH DIFFICULTY, RAJ emerged from circuitous thoughts laced with outrage at the prospect of being exposed to Nabila’s deceitful charm again and stepped out of the SUV. He expected to see the sprawling nineteen-twenties villa that his family had used as a holiday home since his childhood. He blinked in disbelief at the very much smaller new property that now stood in its place and signalled the army major in charge of their security to seek clarification of the mystery. A couple of minutes later he returned to Zoe’s side.

  ‘Apparently, my father had the old villa demolished several years ago because it was falling into disrepair and he thought it was too large to renovate,’ Raj explained. ‘It was built by your great-grandparents at a time when the Banian royal family had half a dozen daughters. My family used it rarely after your mother’s father died. My father likes the sea but the Queen does not.’

  Relieved that Raj was talking again, Zoe murmured, ‘Did you come here much as a boy?’

  ‘Often when I was very young with my parents. My mother loved it here.’ His lean strong face tightened, his perfect bone structure pulling taut beneath his bronzed skin. ‘I remember her skipping through the surf and laughing. No worries about etiquette or protocol or who might be watching and criticising her behaviour. She could be an ordinary woman here again and she loved it.’

  ‘An ordinary woman?’ Zoe queried, puzzled by that label.

  Momentarily, Raj turned away to evade the question because he disliked talking about past traumas. In his experience a trouble shared was not a trouble halved and he preferred to gloss over such issues. Without skipping a beat, he deftly changed the subject. ‘My father should have told me that there was a smaller property here now,’ Raj breathed. ‘As he only comes here alone, there may only be one bedroom.’

  ‘Oh, let’s not get into that debate again!’ Zoe carolled with a comically exaggerated shudder that locked his eyes to her animated face. ‘We’re adults, we’ll get by, even if you make me sleep on the floor!’

  Her green eyes could dance like emeralds tumbling in sunlight, Raj noted abstractedly, settling a hand to her spine to guide her down the path because it was dark and she could hardly move in her high heels without stumbling on the stony surface beneath their feet. He had watched her throughout the day, had been forced to watch her teeter and sway and steady herself on furniture every time she lost her balance. She might continually wear high heels but had evidently not yet learned how to comfortably walk in them. The idea of her falling and hurting herself made him want to go into her wardrobe and burn every one of those preposterous shoes. It was an odd thought to have and he tagged it as such and frowned in bemusement.

  ‘You know, I wouldn’t do that.’

  ‘You’re not sleeping on the floor either!’ Zoe warned him as they approached the well-lit front door. A lovely wrap-around veranda fronted the building and their protection team surged ahead of them to check that the house was safe. ‘Where have you been spending the night since we got married?’

  ‘My office.’

  ‘Is there a bed there?’

  Raj shrugged a broad shoulder. ‘A sofa,’ he admitted grudgingly.

  Zoe gritted h
er teeth in annoyance. ‘Are you that scared of me?’

  Dark colour scored the hard, slanted lines of Raj’s spectacular cheekbones and his stunning eyes flashed gold with angry disbelief. At that optimum moment the protection team reappeared to usher them inside. It didn’t take long to explore the interior of the beach house. There was a surprisingly large contemporary ground-floor living area and a winding staircase led upstairs to a spacious bedroom and bathroom.

  ‘There’s no kitchen!’ Zoe exclaimed abruptly, glancing out at the walled swimming pool beyond the patio doors. ‘How are we supposed to eat here?’

  ‘The staff stay in a new accommodation block built behind the hill and cater to our needs from there,’ Raj told her. ‘Meals will be delivered. It’s not a very practical arrangement but my father enjoys his solitude.’

  ‘I’m starving,’ Zoe admitted.

  ‘I will order a meal.’

  ‘I’ll go for a shower and change into something more comfortable,’ Zoe said cheerfully.

  She was halfway up the stairs when Raj spoke again. ‘I am not scared of you, nor was I implying that you would choose to tempt me into breaking my promise,’ he assured her levelly. ‘But it annoys me that my father is making it so difficult for me to offer you the privacy I swore to give you.’

  ‘And why is he doing that?’ Zoe prompted, tipping her head to gaze down at him, her cheeks warm from his misapprehensions about her. No, she wouldn’t ever set out to deliberately tempt him but she was painfully conscious that she wanted him to make some kind of move on her because she was keen to explore the way he made her feel. It was just sex, she told herself guiltily, sexual urges tugging at her hormones, and there was nothing more normal than that, she told herself in urgent addition, nothing to be ashamed of in such fantasies. It was simply her bad luck that she was married to an honourable male who believed in keeping his promises and not taking advantage. Luckily for her, she could not even imagine a scenario where she would tell him honestly how she felt and, for that reason, the humiliation of making a total fool of herself over him was unlikely.