s she managed to slot in so effortlessly.
It took a few beats to realise she was done, and staring at him, eyes wide and wary.
‘You wrote that by yourself in three hours?’
She immediately averted her gaze, looked down at the paper. ‘Is it that bad?’ Her voice was a little unsteady.
Before he could stop himself, he reached across and captured her hand. ‘It’s that good.’
She gasped. ‘Really? Are you sure? I always worry that I’m gushing a little too hard. Or not enough.’
His thumb stroked back and forth across her hand, a strange need that had nothing to do with sex mounting higher inside him. ‘There’s a perfect amount of gush. But I would nix that last joke at your own expense. You can keep that one private.’ For me.
She nodded, then began to rummage in her handbag. He reached into the sleek compartment next to him and offered her a pen.
The smallest smile curved her lips as she took it. ‘Thank you.’
A yearning to see a wider, longer-lasting smile hit him hard, but he settled for watching her amend her speech. When she was done, he took her hand again. She made no move to withdraw it, and, finding that he liked touching her silk-smooth skin far too much, he kept his hand where it was right up until they arrived at the hospital.
An excited hum of surprise went through the sizeable crowd as he stepped out. Then it turned into shouts of adoration when Niesha joined him on the bright blue carpet. ‘I believe my assessment is proving accurate,’ he murmured.
Her smile as she waved to the crowd was warm and open. ‘I’m just a passing fancy. You’ll regain their total devotion before the month’s out, I’m sure.’
He wasn’t sure why that transitory statement rubbed him the wrong way. Perhaps it was the reminder that he’d placed a ticking-clock clause on their marriage, one that was already chiming much too loudly for his liking.
He shrugged the thought away and accompanied Niesha as she approached the crowd. As with her smile, her greeting was warm and engaging, although Zufar noticed that she gravitated towards children and mothers with small babies, taking time to draw a smile or laugh before she moved on.
Almost automatically, because such occasions were bred into his bones, Zufar expertly navigated the crowd until it was time to go inside.
They were given the tour, the hospital staff beside themselves to be graced by two royals. Again Niesha lingered with the children, especially the disadvantaged ones, listening to them and reading them stories that drew smiles even from the sickest children.
When the time came for her speech, she delivered it with grace and eloquence, drawing immediate and enthusiastic applause when it was over.
But even as he experienced a satisfying swell of pride, he couldn’t shake the niggling thought that, though his wife seemed to be settling into her role as his Queen, perhaps she was also counting down the time until the five years were up.
* * *
‘You’re frowning,’ observed the deep voice.
Niesha looked up from the medical webpage she’d been reading, a little startled by Zufar’s sudden appearance.
From the moment they’d taken off four hours ago, he’d been ensconced with his advisers at the front section of the stunning royal plane, leaving her with her own smaller staff. Her meeting to go over her itinerary had lasted barely an hour, after which she’d dismissed her staff and found a quieter area towards the back of the plane.
She’d needed a moment or three with her thoughts but had declined Kadira’s suggestion that she head upstairs to the master bedroom to rest.
The thought of sliding into bed, with Zufar in such close proximity, sent several traitorous tingles through her body, a state she couldn’t seem to block no matter how much she tried.
Besides that, there was also the fact that last night she’d noticed a little spotting when she’d taken a shower. But this morning there’d been no trace of it. She’d debated whether to tell Zufar and decided to keep it to herself for now in case it was a false alarm.
Deep down though, Niesha knew the reason she was keeping quiet was because of the possibility that if she was pregnant, Zufar, with his duty done, might instigate separate bedrooms after all. Since that first time they’d made love, that remoteness had remained, even though he managed to skilfully draw sensations from her she’d never thought possible. He was an undeniable expert in the bedroom, and a huge part of her was terrified that she’d already grown addicted to her husband’s touch.
Very quickly their time in bed, especially in the dawn hours when he drew her from a restless sleep, had become the highlight of her day. And try as she might she couldn’t find the strength to give it up just yet.
So she closed her tablet and the page that gave dire predictions for spotting during pregnancy, uncrossed her legs and attempted to school her features. Thankfully, when she raised her gaze, his was on her legs. A moment later, probing eyes met hers, and his eyebrow quirked as he awaited a response.
She grimaced. ‘I unwittingly clicked on a link while I was reviewing a list of charities. I told you not everyone was enamoured of me.’
It was a smaller, safer truth in a greater list of things on her mind.