`What nonsense,’ she said.
Ìt’s the truth,’ he interjected, his voice deep enough to stir her senses in unwanted feminine response. `You saved my life. Even though it could have cost you yours.’
His gaze held hers, and she felt the potency, the sheer power of his personality, and of the emotions he kept so strictly tethered.
`That single act of foolish bravery seems to have convinced even the staunchest traditionalist that I was incredibly clever to take you as my wife.’
Belle caught her breath. Finally she let it ease out of her, deflated to realize that for a moment she’d waited for him to say he was glad he’d married her, but for the most personal of reasons.
Disappointment shafted, keen as a knife, into her chest. Stupid, stupid woman.
She turned towards her own window, and this time she raised her arm to the people who thronged close, waving and cheering. But she couldn’t return their smiles.
Rafiq watched her from the corner of his eye and wondered again if he’d done right to bring her home from the hospital today. The doctor had warned that she was in shock, though the gunshot wound was healing well. He’d suggested waiting. But Rafiq had been adamant. She needed to come home now her condition was stable. Belle would have nursing staff on hand at the palace to give her twenty-four-hour care.
He stifled an upsurge of intense nausea at the thought of her injury, and once more thrust aside the image that still crowded.
It felt so right, holding her. As long as he ignored the cool query in her eyes and the tension emanating from her taut body, signaling that she’d rather be anywhere than in his arms.
He strode through the wide entrance to find Dawud waiting for them, a large, unmistakable leather case in his hands.
`Madam: Dawud bowed to Belle. Ì am pleased to welcome you home.’
`Thank you, Dawud.’ Her voice was too high-pitched to be natural, but she was calm. Too calm in the circumstances, Rafiq decided.
`My wife is tired, Dawud,’ he said brusquely. `We’ll deal with that later.’ He nodded to the case. `When she’s rested.’
Ì‘m not tired,’ she objected, in that high, tight voice that was so unlike her natural warm tones. `What’s in the box?’
`Nothing that can’t wait,’ Rafiq muttered, turning away towards the corridor.
`Dawud?’ Belle asked. `What’s this about?’
It’s a matter of tradition, Highness,’ Dawud said, following them.
`When the Sheikh weds it’s customary for him to appear before his people and for his bride to wear-‘
`The Peacock’s Eye,’ Belle interjected, turning her eyes to meet his.
`You got it back?’
Rafiq stared down at her, wishing he could discern a spark of pleasure or excitement in her at the prospect of having such fabled gems for her own. Anything but the cool reserve that kept her so remote.
He nodded. Ìt was retrieved yesterday.’
‘Well, I suppose I’d better wear it,’ she said, with a total lack of enthusiasm. `We don’t want to stand in the way of tradition. It’s your duty, after all.’
Rafiq frowned, sure he heard sarcasm in her tone. But her look was bland. What wouldn’t he give to have the real Belle in his arms feisty, passionate, so alive.
`Very well,’ He turned and strode towards the throne room. `Let’s get this over with. Come, Dawud.’
Belle stared at the jeweled necklace, stunned, as anyone would be, at the sheer, inconceivable magnificence of it. The array of gemstones must be worth several kings’ ransoms. The weight of gold was enormous, and the exquisite artisanship almost beyond belief.
Rafiq had given this up for her? It seemed incredible. But then she remembered. He hadn’t done it for her; he’d done it to keep his kingdom from international opprobrium.
Her gaze swung from the sparkling necklace, revealed on its bed of dark velvet, to his face, looming ‘above her. He wore his shuttered look still no way of knowing what he was thinking.
Nevertheless, the enormity of his action left her speechless. How many men would have made that decision to save the lives of strangers by paying this ransom?
`You may go, Dawud,’ Rafiq said, his tone sharp. `Have the chamberlain announce that we’ll be there shortly. But not for long.
My wife needs rest.’
`The people will understand, Your Highness.’ Dawud bowed and left the room.
`You’re sure about this, Belle?’ Rafiq asked.
She nodded. Best to get it over as quickly as possible.
Maybe she was exhausted after all. For suddenly the comfortable numbness was wearing off. She felt a tearing sensation deep inside, as if the pain she’d warded off for so long ripped at her from within. And it was getting harder and harder to remain calm and detached now Rafiq was so close.