A Whisper of Disgrace

‘Rosa!’ someone yelled as the flashlights flared. ‘What do your family think about you marrying a sheikh?’

‘Rosa, how do you think Kulal’s ex-fiancée is feeling today?’

Rosa could feel herself stiffen, but Kulal pressed his fingers into the flesh at her waist.

‘Smile,’ he instructed softly. ‘Look like you’re having fun.’

But she felt almost paralysed by the flashbulbs and the damning nature of the questions and maybe Kulal realised that, for suddenly he turned her towards him, his lips parting so that she could see the gleam of his teeth.

‘Seems like I’m going to have to kiss you properly after all,’ he said.

‘And is that such a hardship?’ she whispered.

‘Everything about me is hard at the moment,’ he commented drily as he lowered his mouth onto hers.

For a moment, the only thing Rosa was aware of was the press going crazy, but then the outside world blurred and faded and she was aware of nothing, other than the sensation of his lips exploring hers. Desire raced through her, as if he’d turned on some powerful current. As if she was on fire. She pressed the palms of her hands against his chest, revelling in the feel of his powerful torso, until she realised that he was pulling away from her and that the kiss had come to an abrupt end.

His eyes were impossible to read as he stared down into her upturned face, as if he was seeing something there which he had not expected to see. ‘That’s the first time I’ve ever kissed a woman in public and I don’t think it’s an experiment which needs repeating. I think I’d better get you back to my apartment as quickly as possible,’ he said, his mouth barely moving for fear that some clever lip-reader in the press corps could pick up on what he was saying. ‘Before we’re hauled up on a charge of public indecency.’

Rosa could feel herself blushing as his bodyguards began to clear a way through the press, but she was surprised when Kulal waved a dismissive hand at the driver, who was opening the door of his official car. ‘No. We’ll walk,’ he said. ‘It isn’t far.’

‘But, Highness—’

‘I said we’ll walk.’ And with that, he took her hand in his and began to lead her along the street, his mood unexpectedly buoyant as they began to walk along the wide boulevard. He stared down at their interlocked fingers, suddenly aware of the fact that he’d never held hands with a woman in public before. Her skin was the delicious honeyed shade which denoted her Sicilian upbringing, but his own was very much darker and there seemed to be a certain erotic association about the contrast between the differing hues. ‘And smile,’ he added softly.

It was the most bizarre experience of Rosa’s life, walking in her lace wedding dress through the exclusive streets of the sixteenth arrondissement, her new husband beside her in his flowing white robes. Bodyguards speaking furiously into earpieces shadowed them all the way and people stopped what they were doing to turn and stare. She saw cars slowing down and drivers leaning out of their windows to capture their image on cellphones, and there were yet more press waiting outside his upmarket apartment block. She wondered if there would have been quite so much fuss if Kulal hadn’t been wearing his traditional robes—and that only added to her sense of unreality. As if he was some kind of fantasy figure, rather than an ordinary man. But he isn’t an ordinary man, she reminded herself, and this whole marriage was the stuff of fantasy.

He gripped her hand tightly as yet more flashbulbs exploded in her face, but this time she felt much less intimidated. She waved away the question of what her family would think or how her brothers would respond. Sustained exposure to something meant that you could get used to it and Rosa found she was even able to smile at one of the more persistent lens men. She felt breathless with nerves and a growing excitement as they walked into the foyer and took the elevator up to the penthouse suite, with Kulal watching her in speculative silence all the while, as if he didn’t quite trust himself to speak. She kept telling herself that she wasn’t going to be scared by what was about to happen. She had wanted adventure, hadn’t she? Well, she had certainly found it!

Still silent, he opened the door to his apartment and Rosa stepped into a huge entrance hall. She had been prepared for luxury and she wasn’t disappointed. Impressionist paintings adorned the walls and she’d never seen so much antique furniture outside of a museum. On dark, wooden floors lay faded silk rugs which looked centuries old and she wondered how many different pairs of feet had walked over them. She thought that a place like this could never really feel like home—or more specifically her home, until she remembered that it was never intended to be.