`Was this recent?’
She shook her head. `No, it’s ancient history now. He left the day before my twelfth birthday.’
Yet the scars of that hurt lingered. How betrayed she must have felt. Especially at such an impressionable age.
He felt a surge of protectiveness so strong it staggered him. How could her father have treated her in that way? Abandoned his family, his responsibilities, the people who cared for him?
Rafiq watched her reach for a plate and help herself to an assortment of fruit and nuts. She looked unconcerned, her movements quick and smooth. But the tension hadn’t left her. She looked too composed. Almost rigid in her control.
Inevitably it set him wondering if her father’s disloyalty might account for her fierce independence. She was more staunchly self-sufficient than any woman he’d met. It was one of the things that drew him to her. Now he speculated on whether that trait had grown out of pain and grief. In many ways Belle was an enigma to him. But one he was determined to solve.
Ì lost my parents when I was eleven,’ he said, in an attempt to bridge the silent gulf between them. Her head swung abruptly round towards him and he saw the flash of compassion in her expression. `They were in a chopper, coming back from a visit to one of the outlying islands.’
He still remembered the perfect cloudless blue sky that afternoon as he’d waited for them to return.
Ìt should have been a routine flight, but something went wrong. A mechanical failure. There were no survivors.’
Òh, Rafiq! To lose them both like that.’ Her eyes were sympathetic. At least the haunted look in them had disappeared.
Ì had my grandfather. He brought me up. And I count myself lucky for that. He was a great man.’
‘I’m sure he was.’ Then she staggered him with her first compliment. `He did a fine job. I’m sure he’d be proud of you now.’
A tiny evocative smile curved her lips.
He inclined his head, surprised to discover how much her words warmed him. How important they were to him.
Ì‘m honored that you think so. And I’m convinced that your mother is a very special woman, to have produced a daughter like you.’
He watched, satisfied, as a blush of color warmed her cheeks. He hated seeing her look bereft, as she had a moment ago. Even when fighting off exhaustion and terror she’d never looked as lost as she had when talking of her father.
I’ll look forward to meeting her in person.’ He paused. Ìn the meantime, I’d very much like to speak with her before the wedding.’ To pay his respects and to set her mind at ease that he would do all within his power to look after her daughter.
Ì‘m sure she’d appreciate that.’ Belle’s expression was wary.
`Good. It’s time I spoke with her. Very soon now we’ll be family.’
Six days later Belle’s world changed for ever.
In front of thousands of Q’ aroumis she wed their sovereign prince.
Millions of people around the globe, her own family included, watched television footage of the royal pair receiving the congratulations of their people. And heard the resounding cheers as the massive crowd roared its approval.
None of it had seemed real to Belle. Until now.
Finally, as nearby a clock chimed midnight, she found herself alone with Rafiq for the first time all day.
Cinderella time. Time for the world to change back to normal.
But as she stared across the private salon into the compelling eyes of the man she’d just married, Belle knew her life would never be the same again. That was when she realized she was in trouble.
He regarded her steadily. Too steadily. His assessing gaze tore at her façade of composure, leaving her nervous. Her breathing was shallow, her palms damp.
All day she’d played her part, model bride first at a Q’aroumi then at a Western wedding ceremony. She’d stood at Rafiq’s side through the interminable photo session, and again at the official reception, where locals and foreign dignitaries had clustered around, congratulating, assessing, speculating.
And now they were alone. The sense of unreality that had buoyed her through the sumptuous proceedings splintered as Rafiq paced towards her.
This was no illusion. She had bound herself to him.
Scorching darts of apprehension jabbed her, hot and unsettling.
Her abdomen churned from the surge of adrenaline that spasmed through her muscles.
Fear?
Or anticipation?
As he closed the distance between them she focused on the clear green of his eyes. And what she read there snatched her breath away.
Even dressed in a traditional bridal gown, with its full length, concealing folds, she felt more vulnerable than when she’d knelt before him that first time, wearing only a Lycra swimsuit and manacles. Then he’d been her savior, determined yet gentle in his role as rescuer.