Unlike her predecessor, his mother, Niesha was not filling her diary with appointments with designers, magazine photo shoots and gossip-mongering luncheons. In fact, the occasional demand on her time for anything other than palace duties drew the small press of her lips he was beginning to recognise as signifying her displeasure.
The one thing that made her eyes light up was any activity involving children. And when it was time to take lessons from her tutor.
There were other times when he glimpsed strong emotion in her eyes, too, although after their wedding night she’d attempted to hide those emotions from him. Another earthy sensation shifted through Zufar, his manhood responding to his thought.
Those early-morning hours together were becoming an addictive means of waking her up from her nightmares. They might be sharing a bed in order to produce an heir, but that hour before sunrise was fast becoming a routine he didn’t wish to abandon.
He sucked in a breath as his blood sang with fire and the pressure behind his fly thickened. His wife might have been innocent when he took her to bed, but she was swiftly gaining the status of the most memorable bed partner he’d ever had.
He frowned inwardly as the reasons for the need to awaken her each morning sliced through his mind. Niesha claimed not to remember the subject of her nightmares, and he believed her.
Nevertheless it was a problem. One that might need addressing sooner rather than later. As was the subject of her past. All his investigators had been able to dig up so far was that she’d grown up in an orphanage on the outskirts of his capital city.
The last thing he needed was for other skeletons to fall out of his proverbial closet, but it seemed her past was a blank no one could fill.
The knock on his door in that moment was a half-blessing, freeing him from thinking about the enigma surrounding his new bride. Besides, he could do with not inviting problems where there were none, so he turned abruptly from the window.
‘Enter,’ he called.
Niesha entered, and he couldn’t help but stare. He took in her slender form, his eyes lingering on the shadow of her cleavage, the neat little waist he’d gripped to hold her steady as he lost himself in her body, and the curve of her hips that could even now be cradling his child.
For the first time since his clinical discussions of heirs and legacies, Zufar allowed himself to wonder what their child would look like.
He frowned, pulling himself from the brink of useless daydream as she drew closer. Dressed in a burnt-orange dress that complemented her colour superbly, with her hair pulled up into some elaborate knot, she more than held her own as a queen.
And even though he’d availed himself of every inch of her body only a handful of hours ago, a gnawing hunger began to beat a restless, relentless beat through him.
She stopped before his desk, spine straight, head angled as if she’d spent a lifetime learning comportment rather than a scant two weeks, and looked him straight in the eye, sending the rush in his blood higher.
‘I was told you wanted to see me?’ she asked.
Zufar forced himself to focus. ‘Yes.’ He indicated the chair before his desk and waited for her to sit. ‘I wanted to inform you that we leave for our honeymoon tomorrow. But before we do, there’s one engagement today that needs to be filled.’ The reason why that engagement had now fallen on Niesha made his mouth tighten. ‘I need you.’
Her eyes widened a touch before they swept to the window, avoiding his gaze. He found himself wanting to capture her chin and redirect her attention to him. He blunted the need.
He couldn’t afford to indulge in carnal pleasures when he had a kingdom to run.
You have a fifteen-minute window of free time, a voice whispered insidiously in his ear.
He pushed it away, striding to his desk and settling himself behind it. ‘Galila’s departure has left a few engagements unfulfilled. I’ve delegated most of them, but I need you to handle this one,’ he said briskly.
‘Oh, I see. How can I help?’ There was a briskness to her tone that drew a frown from him despite his own effort to display the same demeanour. He liked her softer, Zufar realised.
She caught his frown, and a moment later her face was the serene mask she’d been presenting to the adoring public since she first stepped out in her role as his Queen two weeks ago. That his people had taken to her was an understatement. Everywhere she went she was met with bunches of flowers and adoring crowds. But that mask was for the public. Zufar was a little irritated that she was maintaining it when they were alone.
‘Your schedule is free for the next few hours, I believe?’ he enquired.
She nodded. ‘Yes. It is.’
‘Good. This is an opening ceremony at a local children’s hospital. Galila was supposed to have attended but of course circumstances have changed.’ His sister was currently in Zyria, Sheikh Karim having wasted no time in whisking her away the moment Zufar had given his agreement.
Niesha picked up the sheet he slid across the desk, scrutinising the page before setting it back down. This time when she looked at him, a genuine smile was in place. She was pleased, as he’d known she would be when the suggestion of being surrounded by children came up.
Again, he found himself wondering about his own future offspring, whether his son or daughter would be cherished by Niesha the way he’d never been by his parents. Zufar was a little taken aback to realise that hidden behind the gratification of certainty that his own child wouldn’t be neglected or visited with indifference was a thread of jealousy.
Was he really jealous of his own unborn child?
‘I’d be honoured to attend. I’ll try not to let you down,’ she said with a small smile that drifted away all too quickly.