The Call of the Desert

Our babies. Her eyes were wide. She felt control of her own existence slipping out of her grasp. She knew she must have gone pale again, but at least she felt stronger now.

As much as she didn’t want to admit it, his words resonated within her on a practical level—bringing up two children on her own would be next to impossible with no familial support to speak of. Both her adoptive parents had died some years previously. Her divorce had wiped out any savings and a meagre inheritance. How could she afford childcare for two children unless she worked like a demon? And what kind of a life would that be for her children?

But Kaden’s words also impacted on her at a much deeper and more visceral level. Growing up knowing she was adopted had bred within Julia an abiding need to create her own family. To have children and give them the assurance of their lineage and background that she’d never had. Her adoptive parents had loved her, of course … But she’d never really got over the stain of being unwanted by her birth mother and father. Irrationally she felt it was a reflection on her, something she’d done. And she had carried it down through the years to make what had happened with Kaden so much more devastating. But he was the last person she could confide in about this …

The haunting call of the muezzin started up in the city nearby and it tugged on her heart. She’d once fantasised about living here for ever with Kaden, but this was like a nightmare version of that dream.

As if sensing her turmoil, Kaden came out of his chair and down on one knee beside Julia. He took her hand in his. For a hysterical moment she thought he was going to propose to her, but then he said, “You said it yourself when you came here—two babies change everything. I won’t allow them to be brought up on another continent when their heritage is here, in this country. It’s two babies, Julia. How can you even hope to cope with that on your own? They deserve to have two parents, a secure home and grounding. I can provide that. They will have roles to fulfil in this country—one of them will be the next Emir, or Queen of Burquat. Who knows? They might even rule together …”

Julia moved back in her seat. The thought of him seeing how his touch affected her was terrifying. “They also deserve to have two parents who love one another.”

Kaden’s face became cynical as he dropped her hand and spat out, “Love? You speak of fairytales that don’t exist. We will make this work, Julia, because we have to. We don’t need love.”

She saw the conflict in his eyes and on his face. His mouth was a thin line.

He stood up, instantly tall and intimidating. “I’ll do whatever I have to to make this work. You know this is the only way. I will be a good husband to you, Julia. I will support you and respect you.” A flash of heat sparked between them. “And I will be faithful to you.”

A week later Julia looked at herself in the floor-length mirror in her dressing room. The dawn light hadn’t even broken outside yet. According to Burquati tradition, they would exchange vows and rings in a simple civil ceremony as dawn broke.

At any other time Julia would have found the prospect impossibly romantic. As it was all she could think about was Kaden’s grim avowal: “I’ll do whatever I have to to make this work.”

She was wearing an ivory gown, long-sleeved and modest, but it clung to every curve and moved sinuously when she walked. Thankfully the heavy material skimmed over her bump, so it wasn’t too glaringly obvious. A lace veil was pinned low on the back of her head, and Jasmine had coiled her hair into a loose chignon. She wore pearl drop earrings, and Kaden had presented her with a stunning princess cut diamond ring set in old gold the day before, telling her it had been his mother’s engagement ring, to be kept for his own bride.

The thought of wearing a ring that his first wife had also worn made her feel sullied somehow, but she hadn’t had the nerve to say anything to a closed-off and taciturn Kaden. It couldn’t be clearer that he was viewing this marriage as a kind of penance.

If she was stronger … Julia sighed. It was more than strength she needed to resist the will of Kaden. And deep within her she had to admit to a feeling of security at knowing that at least her babies would live lives free of shadows and doubts. She wasn’t even going to admit to another much more personal and illicit feeling … of peace. Julia quickly diverted her thoughts away from that dangerous area.

She thought of the whirlwind it had been since she’d tacitly agreed to this marriage. And of the very muted fanfare that had greeted the public announcement a few days ago. At dinner on the evening their nuptials had been announced, Julia had voiced her building concern to Kaden; the reality of what might be expected of her had started sinking in. “Wasn’t your mother half-English? The people will be used to a foreign Sheikha, won’t they?”

Kaden had avoided Julia’s eye, and that had made her instantly nervous. “Unfortunately the track record of Sheikhas here hasn’t been good since my mother died. Both my wife and my stepmother never really connected with the people. As for my mother … They accepted her, yes … after a rocky start. The truth is that my father went against his own father’s wishes to marry for love. The only reason he was allowed to marry my mother was because she came from a lineage on her father’s side that went back as far as our own.”

He’d looked at her then, with a carefully veiled expression. “It took the people some time to accept her, but they did, and when she died they were just as devastated as my father. He never came to terms with her death during Samia’s childbirth. It changed him … made him withdraw and become more cynical … He blamed himself for having pursued his own selfish desires in bringing her here.”

Julia had protested. “But it was just an awful tragedy.”

Kaden had abruptly changed the conversation then.

Julia had hardly slept since that night, more and more aware of how hard it was likely to be for her to be accepted by the Burquati people, and wondering how far Kaden was prepared to test his people’s limits of acceptance to keep his heirs safe—and here.

CHAPTER EIGHT

KADEN paced back and forth in the huge ceremonial ballroom of the palace. He was dressed in the royal Burquati military uniform. His chief aides and the officiator for the wedding ceremony waited patiently. He looked out of the window for the umpteenth time and saw the faint pink trails in the clear sky that heralded the dawn breaking. The thought of how delicate Julia had looked at dinner the previous evening. She’d hardly said a word, and her eyes had been huge, full of shadows, with the faintest purple smudges underneath.

He bit back a curse, hating the urgency rushing through his blood that had nothing to do with protocol and much to do with his disturbing need to see Julia.

He hadn’t felt like this on his first wedding day. He’d been battling an almost dread feeling of suffocation that day. But since his marriage had ended he’d put that down to a presentiment of what had happened with his wife, and nothing to do with the lingering memory of another woman.

A sound came from the other end of the room and Kaden turned. His mind was emptied of all thought. Julia was a vision in ivory edged with pale gold as she walked towards him, with Jasmine holding her dress behind her. Her face was obscured by a long veil, and his eyes dropped to where the swell of her belly told the story of why they were getting married.

Something so fierce and primal gripped him in that moment that he had to clench his jaw and fists to stop shaking with it as Julia came to a stop just inches away. She was looking down, and Kaden longed to tell everyone to leave so that he could pull back the veil and tip her face up to his.

Instead he reached for her hand and lifted it up, bringing it to his mouth. Her head lifted and he could see the shape of her face, the flash of grey eyes, as he kissed her palm. Her perfume was soft and delicate, winding around him like a silken tie, bringing with it evocative memories and whispers of the past.

In that moment he hated her for coming back into his life, for reawakening a part of himself that he’d thought buried for ever. The only part of him that had ever been vulnerable, and the only part of him that had believed a different future was possible for him. It hadn’t been.

With Julia’s hand still in his he turned to the officiator and said curtly, “Let’s get started.”

What felt like aeons later Julia was sitting beside Kaden at the massive dining table and her face felt as if it was frozen in a rictus grin. Her heart hurt. From the moment Kaden had said, “Let’s get started” earlier, he’d been curt to the point of dismissal.