Scandal: His Majesty's Love-Child Read online

  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.’

  Annalisa lifted heavy lids, attuned now to the telltale heat of his body behind hers and his rigid arousal pressing against her. She saw their reflection. The knowing gleam in her lover’s bright gaze: his hands roving her body, almost bare but for the stunning, regal jewels. Then his hand dipped low.

  ‘I want you to watch,’ he whispered, ‘as I make love to my fiancée.’

  The wedding celebrations had taken seven days.

  As Tahir had promised, they’d been the most lavish Qusay had seen. Partly because he’d ensured all Qusanis were welcome to attend the entertainments, and partly because it had been a joint celebration.

  On the fifth day his coronation had taken place.

  Now he stood, a sea breeze rippling the magnificent embroidered cloak that hung from his shoulders, the unfamiliar weight of the royal black and gold igal encircling the fine white cloth of his headdress. At his side the King’s Sword lay heavy against his thigh. An ancient symbol of the wealth and power of Qusay’s ruler, its scabbard was encrusted with gems. Its hilt, weighted with emeralds the size of pigeon’s eggs, belied the fact that the blade was sharp enough to wreak justice on any who threatened the King or his country.

  He felt the weight of expectation and responsibility on him, but he carried it easily, confident now that he’d done the right thing in accepting the kingship.

  Music swelled on the late-afternoon air and the hum of voices. The perfume of fragrant spices from elaborate braziers mixed with the scent of yet more roast meats being prepared.

  Tahir drew a deep breath and surveyed the gathering. Throngs of people laughing and chattering, some beneath open-sided tents lined with carpets and padded seating. Others strolling in the gardens or watching the horse-racing down on the white sand beach. Pennants fluttered, jewels flashed, silks swirled.

  Yet among the throng one person caught and held his attention. His heart swelled with that unfamiliar emotion he realised now was love.

  Annalisa. His bride. His queen. His love.

  Her smile had been radiant all day, first with her cousins, who’d been genuinely happy for her, and now with his family.

  ‘You’ve got that look on your face again, Tahir,’ came a deep voice beside him. ‘Didn’t you know a king is supposed to look solemn and regal?’

  Tahir’s lips twitched and he turned to his brother Rafiq, looking debonair in a dark suit. ‘Much you’d know about it. You were never King.’

  Rafiq shrugged. ‘What can I say? I had a better offer.’ His eyes strayed to the cluster of beautiful women just metres away.

  ‘You were saying? About that look?’ Tahir laughed. It was a sound he’d become gradually used to these past few months, as his world had filled with a warmth and happiness he’d never take for granted.

  ‘Oh, don’t pay any attention to him,’ said Kareef as he strolled up to join them, a glint of humour in his pale blue eyes. ‘You know he’s got it bad. Can’t keep his eyes off his wife.’

  ‘Which makes four of us, and you wouldn’t want it any other way.’ Their cousin Zafir came to stand on Tahir’s other side. He raised a hand and the sun glinted off his sapphire ring. He gestured towards the cluster of women in the royal tent. ‘We’ve been lucky, all of us.’

  There was a murmur of assent from deep voices.

  Tahir scann
ed the group. Zafir’s Layla, dripping sapphires and dressed in regal finery, yet with a smile as warm as the sun. Rafiq’s Serah, with her quiet beauty and gentle nature, now laughing with her childhood friend Jasmine, Kareef’s lovely wife.

  And his mother was there, looking happier than he’d ever seen her, matriarch of a growing family. For at their centre sat the most beautiful of them all: his Annalisa, cradling Jasmine and Kareef’s tiny adopted daughter.

  At the sight of his wife holding the infant so tenderly heat roared through him, a proud possessiveness he felt whenever he thought of the child she carried. Beneath her exquisite dress of silver her once-flat belly had begun to swell with the weight of their child.

  He longed to reach out and stroke that satiny flesh with his palm, reacquaint himself with each luscious curve and line of her body. They hadn’t shared a bed in seven nights, mindful for once of tradition. But tonight…

  As if reading his thoughts, Annalisa lifted her head and met his gaze head-on. A delicate blush stained her cheeks and her lips parted in unconscious invitation.

  Tahir almost groaned aloud.

  He wanted to stride over, slip the dress from her shoulders and make love to her as she wore nothing but the emerald and diamond collar. As he had the day he’d first put it on her. An image of Annalisa naked but for the gems filled his mind. Pliant and sexy under his questing hands, soft and welcoming against his hard flesh. A shudder of pure need racked him.

  Saying something to the other women, Annalisa passed the baby over and rose, a shimmering vision in her wedding dress. Late sun caught the golden lights in her hair as she walked towards him. Her gown sparkled with embroidered gems. Her jewelled chandelier earrings swayed against her pale neck, accentuating its slender curve.

  Slowly she approached. Their gazes meshed.

  He heard voices beside him and realised his companions were moving away, leaving him alone with his bride. His family showed the good sense to know when a man needed to be alone with his wife.