Desert Prince's Stolen Bride

‘You’re not?’ Zayed sounded surprised. ‘But...’

‘But what? This was the most likely outcome, really.’ She made her mouth turn up in a smile. ‘It’s a relief for both of us, I’m sure.’

‘Yes.’ Zayed’s lips pressed together in a firm line. ‘Yes,’ he said again.

Olivia took a deep breath, willing this moment onward. ‘So,’ she said, prompting him to make that painful cut she knew was necessary. Zayed simply stared at her, eyes still narrowed. ‘You will resume negotiations with Sultan Hassan,’ Olivia continued. ‘And I will...’ She paused, wondering just what she would do. Where she would go from here. The future felt like a void. ‘I’ll make my plans.’

Zayed’s eyes narrowed further, to silvery-green slits. ‘And what plans are you thinking of making?’

Olivia tilted her chin. ‘That’s not your concern any more, is it?’

‘You’re my wife. Of course it’s my concern.’

‘Don’t, Zayed.’ She didn’t think she could take one of his autocratic dictates right now, never mind his playing the marriage card. ‘You know I’m not your wife like that.’ Never like that.

‘You’re my wife in every way possible at the moment,’ Zayed returned. ‘Or have you forgotten last night?’ Heat simmered in his eyes and Olivia felt as if the very air between them had tautened.

Olivia knew she’d live with the memory of last night for the rest of her life. ‘Of course I haven’t.’

‘Until this issue is resolved to my satisfaction, you will make no plans,’ Zayed ordered.

‘Your satisfaction?’ Was he actually going to keep her prisoner? She didn’t think she could bear it. ‘And what about mine?’

‘And yours,’ Zayed allowed. ‘I will make sure you are provided for, no matter what. But we are not finished here, Olivia. Not yet.’

‘How can we not be?’ His words, flatly delivered as they were, offered her a shred of hope that she knew she should refuse. Far better for him to release her, free her, so she could start to recover and heal. Staying with him would prolong the agony of wanting something she now knew she could never have. ‘You need to focus on Princess Halina,’ Olivia pressed on. ‘And Sultan Hassan. I’m no help there, Zayed.’

‘You might be. Princess Halina might want to speak with you.’

‘And do you want that?’ she challenged. What on earth could she say to Halina that her friend wanted to hear? The conversation would be devastating for them both.

‘In any case,’ Zayed said, ‘Sultan Hassan has taken Halina to Italy and is refusing my messages as well as any possible meeting. I cannot resume any marriage negotiations at the moment.’

She stared at him, surprised at how unperturbed he seemed by the situation, when he’d already told her more than once how essential this marriage alliance was. ‘Then...what will you do?’

Zayed stared at her for a long moment, his gaze considering. Olivia held her breath, although she wasn’t even sure why. It felt as if they were on the precipice of something important, but what?

‘I rather thought,’ he said slowly, ‘I might stay married to you.’

The words echoed through her, reverberating for several endless moments. ‘You rather thought?’ she repeated in numb disbelief, even as she tried to tamp down the absurd happiness spiralling inside her. ‘Do I have no say in the matter, then?’

‘Of course you do.’ Impatience flickered across Zayed’s face and then he deliberately relaxed, offered her a smile. ‘That’s why I’m discussing it with you now.’

Olivia blew out a breath. ‘I didn’t realise this was a discussion.’

‘Let’s not quibble about semantics.’ He crossed the room to sit on a divan by the window, one leg elegantly crossed over the other. ‘Let’s have a reasonable, measured conversation.’

About marriage. Because, of course, this was going to be a business arrangement, just like his marriage to Halina would have been.

‘All right.’ Olivia moved over to the sofa flanking his and sank onto it. ‘Tell me what you’re considering, then.’

* * *

Zayed glanced at Olivia; she sat with her ankles crossed and her hands folded in her lap, like a nun awaiting her orders. Zayed knew he needed to handle this with both care and sensitivity. What seemed obvious and easy to him would not necessarily be so to Olivia.

‘It’s come to my attention that having a western wife with a background in diplomacy is no bad thing.’

‘A background in diplomacy?’ Her eyebrows rose. ‘I’d hardly give myself so much credit. My father was a diplomat, yes, a minor one, but I never was.’