Demanding His Desert Queen Page 15

  ‘I’m sorry, Safiyah. Truly sorry.’

  Karim’s face was sombre, and she knew he wasn’t just referring to her sister, but to all his assumptions about Safiyah’s character and actions.

  It was easier to focus on Rana. She didn’t want to talk about herself. ‘I think the shock hastened my father’s death. He went downhill fast after that.’

  The speed of his illness and his desperation to see at least one of his daughters settled had broken down her resistance to marrying Abbas.

  ‘My husband arranged for Rana to have excellent support. She’s doing well now. She enjoys working on a horse stud and she’s even talking about doing part-time study.’

  * * *

  Karim was reeling. His feet were planted on the ground but he felt as stable as Tarek’s kite, swooping too low towards a bush. All this time...

  What must it have been like for Safiyah, watching her father die, worrying about her sister and facing the blank wall he’d erected to prevent any contact between them?

  He swallowed hard and it felt as if rusty nails lined his throat. He’d failed her when she’d most needed him.

  He winced, remembering how she’d said her husband had arranged support for Rana. Her husband Abbas. Karim had felt jealous of Abbas, and at the same time triumphant that Safiyah’s passionate nature hadn’t been awoken till he, Karim, married her. But there was more to being a husband than orgasms. Whatever his faults, Abbas had been there for her. She still thought of him as her husband.

  How did she think of him?

  As the man who’d shunned her? The man who’d blackmailed her into a marriage she didn’t want?

  He could argue that he was protecting her son, but should her body and her life be forfeit because of that?

  Karim considered himself honourable.

  Today he realised how far short he fell of that ideal.

  ‘What now?’

  Karim dragged his gaze back to Safiyah. Suddenly she looked so small. Minutes ago, as she’d sparked with indignation, she hadn’t seemed so diminutive. Now her arms were wrapped tight around her slender body as if she were holding out the world. Or holding in hurt.

  Guilt scored pain through his belly.

  Most of the time her presence, her vitality, made Safiyah seem larger than life. Now he saw her vulnerability, her hurt. He wanted to protect her, to haul her close and repeat his apology till she forgave him and looked at him again with stars in her eyes.

  Fat chance of that.

  She hated him.

  He’d abused her trust and, because he’d grown up in a world where distrust and double-dealing were the norm, he’d believed the worst of her.

  Yet, despite his mistakes, the idea of letting her go was impossible.

  ‘Karim? What are you going to do now the story is out?’

  He raised his eyebrows. Did she think he might cower here?

  ‘Go back to the capital. Consult with the Council. Write a press release, then get on with the job of ruling.’

  Except it might not be his job for long. Now that he was Sheikh the Council couldn’t oust him. Yet Karim didn’t want to rule a country that didn’t want him. That bitter truth, like the knowledge of how he’d failed Safiyah in the past, curdled his gut. He’d offer the Council his abdication if that were the case.

  When he’d been offered the role of Sheikh he’d been assured it was because of his character and his record as a statesman, not his supposedly royal lineage. What if it wasn’t true? What if the stain of his birth was too much for his new country to stomach?

  Karim inhaled slowly, deliberately filling his lungs. He’d suffered the fallout of his illegitimacy once, with devastating effect. If he had to do it again, no matter. He had a full and interesting life to return to.

  Except that was a lie. Even after a mere couple of weeks Karim knew that this was the life he craved. He thrived on the challenges and rewards of his new role. Including his newfound family. Would Safiyah stick with him if he left Assara? Could he ask it of her?

  ‘You’re not concerned about a swing of support away from you?’

  Had she read his mind?

  ‘To Shakroun, you mean?’

  Karim guessed Shakroun was behind this press story. His rival hadn’t had the numbers to mount a public challenge, but trying to tarnish Karim’s reputation by backhand methods seemed like the man’s style.

  ‘Don’t worry, Safiyah, whatever happens I’ll protect you and Tarek from him.’ Shakroun would get his hands on them only over Karim’s dead body.

  Safiyah surveyed him sombrely, her expression drawn and her eyes dark with shadows.

  Reading that look, Karim felt a fist lodge in his ribs and his lungs heaved. ‘What do you think about it?’

  ‘I think you need to see the Council as soon as possible. Lobby key people and sound them out—’

  ‘I meant what do you think about my birth? About the fact I wasn’t really a prince of Za’daq?’

  She’d thought him an aristocrat. In reality he was nothing of the sort. Karim swallowed and pain ground through him. His station in life would have an obvious impact on his wife. Pity he hadn’t thought of that before.

  Safiyah’s features drew in on themselves. Her eyes narrowed, her skin tightened across her cheekbones and her generous mouth tucked in at the corners. Her nostrils flared in an expression of disdain.

  ‘You do it so well, Karim. I have to wonder if it’s a natural talent or whether you have to work at it.’

  ‘At what?’ Karim drew himself up, ready to fight however he must to hold on to what was his.

  ‘At insulting me.’

  The words smashed against him, making him blink.

  ‘You didn’t have a high opinion of me all those years ago and it seems nothing has changed.’

  Safiyah pushed her shoulders back and lifted her chin, and abruptly she seemed to grow in stature. Less crumpled and disillusioned lover and more imperious queen. Despite the fire flashing in her glare, Karim felt relief eddy deep inside him. He preferred her fiery to defeated and hurt.

  ‘It was a simple question. I have a right to know what you think.’

  Her fine eyebrows arched. ‘Do you, indeed? When the only reason I know the truth is because someone else broke the story? When you didn’t trust me with it!’ She prodded his chest with her hand then quickly withdrew, as if she couldn’t even bear to touch him.

  ‘I apologise. I thought you already knew.’

  Safiyah sighed. ‘What I think doesn’t matter, does it? We’re stuck with each other.’ She lifted her hand to her forehead as if trying to rub away an ache.

  ‘Safiyah...’ He stepped closer. He had to know.

  For years he hadn’t cared what others might think if they knew the truth of his birth. But he cared what Safiyah thought. More than he’d believed possible.

  Her hand dropped and her eyes flashed. ‘Yes, it’s a surprise, but I don’t care if your father was a sheikh or a vagrant. What I care about is whether I can trust the man I married. Right now I have my doubts.’

  She spun away and gathered up Tarek. Her actions were decisive and distancing. They made Karim feel the way he had as a kid, when he’d tried and failed to please the Sheikh, who had expected nothing short of perfection.

  Karim set his jaw. He mightn’t be perfect. He might be as flawed as the next man. But he’d be damned if he’d allow anyone to wrench away what was his.

  And that included his wife and child.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ‘IT’S ALMOST TIME, Your Majesty. Just a few minutes.’ The technician nodded encouragingly, as if Karim were a stranger to microphones and cameras.

  Karim glanced at the notes before him on the vast desk and pushed them aside, ignoring a stifled protest from one of his secretaries. He preferred to speak direct to the camera since the br
oadcast would be live to the people of Assara. He had no need of prompts.

  What he needed, or at least wanted, was to know where Safiyah was. Since they’d returned to the capital he’d barely seen her. Every time he went to talk to her she was missing. ‘Out’, the staff said.

  Because she couldn’t bear to be with him?

  The idea fed the hollow sensation inside him. His wife found him wanting not due to his birth, but because of the way he’d treated her.

  To a man who prided himself on doing the right thing, the knowledge ate like acid, eviscerating him.

  The door opened to whispered urgent voices. Then he caught a flash of red and a high, childish voice. He pushed back his chair and stood. ‘Let them in.’ It was Safiyah—and Tarek too.

  Karim’s heart hammered his ribs, climbing to his throat as he took her in. She sailed towards him, ignoring the minders who would have kept her out. She looked magnificent and beautiful in a dress of glowing crimson. Her hair was piled high and she wore no jewellery apart from her ruby and diamond wedding ring and matching earrings that swayed against her neck as she walked, emphasising the purity of her slender throat.

  Their gazes meshed. She was here for him. To offer her support despite the chasm between them.

  Karim’s chest tightened, filled with a swelling bundle of sensations. He swallowed roughly.

  His wife. His Queen.

  She was regal, and stunning—and, he realised, the only woman ever to have power over him.

  Just watching her approach battered him with competing emotions. Desire, pride and fear that he’d irrevocably destroyed any softer feelings she might once have harboured. For those eyes locked on him were coolly guarded, giving nothing away.

  He’d given up pretending that it didn’t matter. The news that he’d been wrong about her all this time had stripped all pretence away. He wanted his wife in every way. Not just her sexy body but her admiration, her kindness and her gentle humour.

  Beside her marched Tarek, wearing fine clothes and a slight frown, as if he were concentrating hard. Karim felt a pang at the sight of him, remembering how it had felt as a young child, trying to be the perfect little Prince everyone expected.

  ‘Safiyah.’

  Karim started forward. But instead of taking his outstretched hand she sank into a curtsey, clearly for the benefit of their audience. Beside her Tarek bowed—a deep, formal, courtly bow.

  Karim saw the Councillors on the other side of the room note the gestures of respect and nod to each other, as if approving this confirmation of the Sheikha’s loyalty.

  When she straightened Karim took her hand and pulled her to him, Tarek too. ‘Where have you been?’ His tone was sharper than he’d intended, but he’d felt stymied, not being able to find her.

  Safiyah’s eyes flashed, but she said evenly, ‘In the city.’ As if that explained everything.

  The technician approached, hovering uncertainly. Safiyah nodded to the man and smiled, then turned to Karim. Her voice was low, for his ears alone. ‘I thought it might help if we were beside you, Tarek and me, when you do your broadcast.’

  ‘As a show of solidarity?’ Karim felt his eyebrows rise. It wasn’t a bad idea, politically speaking. Beyond her he saw senior government ministers, nodding in approval at the family group they made.

  Before she could answer he shook his head. ‘I appreciate your support, Safiyah, and yours too, Tarek.’ He smiled at the boy, who was looking far too solemn, and ruffled his hair. The kid relaxed a little then and smiled back, leaning towards his mother. ‘But this is something I need to do alone. I won’t have anyone accuse me of hiding behind my wife’s skirts, beautiful as they are.’

  * * *

  Safiyah stared up into stunning eyes and felt a flurry of emotion ripple through her. She saw pride there, and determination.

  He took her hand, raised it slowly and kissed it.

  Safiyah’s knees almost buckled.

  This was the man she’d fallen in love with all those years ago. The man she’d given her heart to. Who, if he only knew, still held that floundering organ in his keeping.

  Fear settled in her bones. For though he smiled there was no softness in his expression. He was focused beyond her, on the challenge ahead. On the sheikhdom.

  That was what mattered to Karim.

  She, as a convenient wife, came a poor second.

  Nothing had changed.

  Except she’d discovered, faced with this crisis, that she did care for him. Had never given up caring. It was a burden she must learn to bear. A secret she’d have to live with.

  She moved closer, leaning up to whisper in his ear. ‘You haven’t changed your mind, have you? You’re not going to abdicate?’

  ‘No.’ He paused, then added, ‘I want this too much to throw in the towel. But, no matter what happens, believe that I’ll keep you and Tarek safe.’

  She believed him. He would keep his word.

  Karim looked past her, then to the technician. ‘You and Tarek had better take a seat over there.’ He gestured to some chairs clustered on the far side of the room.

  And so it came to be that Safiyah was there for Karim’s momentous broadcast. She ignored the questioning glances of politicians unused to having a woman present when government matters were being discussed. She hung on every word, and as she did so her respect for Karim grew.

  His readiness to misjudge her in the past still rankled, but with time to cool down she’d acknowledged that the stress he had been under must have contributed to his actions.

  Now, hearing him talk with simple honesty about his birth and his vision for Assara, Safiyah felt again a once familiar respect and pride.

  He acknowledged the truth of the story about his heritage, and said that he’d told the Royal Council he would abdicate if the circumstances of his birth were considered an insurmountable problem. He also took time to sketch his plans for the nation if he were to stay as Sheikh, and ended by promising a final announcement in the near future.

  When the broadcast ended Karim looked around the silent room at the powerful men, regarding him solemnly. It was clear they hadn’t yet made a decision on whether to support their new Sheikh. Thinking of the alternative, of Shakroun taking the throne, Safiyah shivered. How could they even consider letting that man into the palace?

  Holding Tarek’s hand, she made for the door, leaving Karim to deal with the politicians. She had her own priorities. Women might not have an overt role in Assaran politics, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have their own networks, or that they didn’t have any influence at all. Safiyah had already been busy accessing those networks on Karim’s behalf.

  He was the best man for the position. More, he was the man she loved.

  She would stand by him no matter what.

  * * *

  In the days after the public broadcast Karim followed his schedule of regional visits just as if there wasn’t an axe poised to fall on his neck if the Council decided his illegitimacy overrode his merits.

  Another man—Shakroun, for instance—would have clung to his position, since constitutionally the Sheikh, once crowned, had absolute power. Karim wasn’t that sort of man. Call it humility, or perhaps excessive pride, but he needed his new country to want him.

  Meanwhile he got on with the job he was there to do. Listening to the people, solving problems and planning new directions. And at his side, day and evening, was Safiyah.

  She was a revelation. He’d seen her performing her part at the wedding celebrations, and the way she’d stood up for him on the day of his broadcast had filled him with pride and gratitude. But his wife was far more than a beautiful face to adorn a royal event.

  Safiyah charmed both the public and VIPs alike, her manner almost unobtrusive but incredibly effective at helping people relax in the royal presence. Time and again Karim found her leading people forw
ard so their concerns could be heard or their achievements noted. Nor did he miss the way she drew apart from the official entourage on site visits to listen to knots of women who gathered on the fringes of the VIP parties.

  Had she supported Abbas in this way?

  Karim’s mind slewed away from the thought. She was his now, through thick and thin. He had no intention of letting her go.

  Since returning to the palace he’d slept alone—partly because of the crazy hours he worked, but mainly because of the hurt in her eyes when she’d discovered how he’d mistrusted her. The bitterness in her voice as she’d recommended they keep their distance.

  Tonight, surely, they could put all that behind them.

  He grinned and knocked on her door, anticipation humming in his veins.

  ‘Karim!’ Her velvet eyes widened in surprise and he vowed that tonight he’d smash through the barriers that separated them.

  ‘Aren’t you going to let me in?’

  She clutched her pale blue robe closed with one hand as she pulled the door wider. He stepped in and watched as she took her time closing the door. Her robe was plain, but on her it looked incredible. Karim devoured the sight of those bounteous curves, the spill of lustrous dark hair. Arousal stirred, thickening his veins and drawing his body tight.

  She turned towards him, automatically raising her chin.

  Safiyah might be soft and feminine but she was no pushover. He liked that, he realised.

  ‘You’ve had news? From the Council?’

  ‘Just now. The vote was unanimous. They want me to stay.’

  For a second she shut her eyes and he saw a shudder run through her. It was a reminder that it wasn’t just Karim whose future had hung in the balance. Safiyah’s had—and Tarek’s.

  ‘It’s all over now,’ he reassured her. ‘I’ll make a public announcement in the morning.’