Claiming His Replacement Queen (Monteverre Marriages 2)

‘Perhaps you mistake anger for simple confusion as to why I just walked in on my wife having a hushed midnight conversation with an unknown man.’

‘I will not be told who I can or cannot speak to. Especially when I have been here for days without anyone to speak to at all.’

Khal was silent for a moment, his jaw tight. ‘This man. He is a close friend?’

‘I’ve known him a few years through my work at the university,’ she said. ‘But no. I don’t have many friends.’

Silence fell between them and Khal saw a flash of sadness in her eyes before she quickly turned her face from him.

‘If that’s all you want to ask, I’ve got an early start in the morning.’ She took a couple of steps towards the door.

Khal moved sideways to block her way. ‘Being Sheikha is a full-time job, Cressida,’ he said, noting the way she tilted her stubborn chin upwards in answer to his tone. ‘I need to know that you are prepared for the responsibilities of this life.’

‘I’ve been feeling a little isolated so I made a phone call. I suppose I did miss my old life for a moment.’ She half laughed. ‘I always felt such happiness in the corner of my small apartment, working at my computer or reading. It keeps my mind working. Makes me feel like I’m achieving something, maybe. But anyway, I needn’t have bothered because it seems my departure has not left any lasting impression.’

A faraway look crossed her delicate features, the barest sheen of moisture seeming to brighten her eyes for a

split second before she hastily blinked it away. She took a deep breath, pinning him with a brave smile. ‘I’m hardly planning to give up and run away after one difficult week.’

He took a step towards her. ‘I’m sorry that you felt isolated here. I did not mean to...’

‘To leave me completely alone in a new country less than twelve hours after our wedding?’ she finished helpfully.

Khal winced, knowing her words were entirely true. He had abandoned her to his staff, believing she would find comfort enough in a busy routine while he dealt with the aftermath of the investigations into the tent fire, among other things. Perhaps there was also a small part of him that wished to put some distance between them after the familiarity of their wedding night. She was his wife. It was only natural he would feel some level of protectiveness towards her. The memory of the kiss they had shared in his suite after the fire had plagued him, sending him to bed each night in a sweat, sleep the furthest thing from his mind.

Almost as though she heard his thoughts, her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, leaving a glistening sheen along the plump pink flesh. He felt his body react instantly, heat rushing downwards. Clenching his fist, he cleared his throat. ‘I have not been very attentive so far, it seems.’

‘No, you have not,’ she agreed, moving past him in the doorway to walk into the library beyond. ‘But I understand that you had sudden matters to address that could not be ignored. Have you any update on what caused the fire in the encampment?’

Khal pursed his lips, trying and failing not to notice the gentle sway of her hips in her loose-fitting pyjama bottoms. ‘It has been deemed accidental. I was just informed this afternoon, in fact.’ He watched as her face visibly relaxed; she had been worried about the fire then. Of course she had.

He wished that the news had given him the same relief. The fact that his security team and the police had no idea who had been behind it and had no leads was frustrating. But he could not think of it now, not when she so clearly needed reassuring.

‘You enjoy reading books about Zayyar,’ he said, changing the subject, gesturing to where he had found her little nook in the corner.

She smiled, walking over to straighten the small mountain of books with an almost lover-like caress. ‘It’s a beautiful kingdom.’

‘You weren’t lying when you said that you consider reading a sport. I’d bet you’ve made your way through a quarter of my collection already.’

She blushed, turning away as she flicked idly through a volume on Zayyari etiquette and traditions. ‘I suppose I just like to feel prepared in a new situation. To arm myself with as much knowledge as possible when I’m feeling out of my depth.’

Of course she was feeling overwhelmed. He had rushed ahead with their wedding without a second thought, put her life at risk in the encampment and then abandoned her at the first opportunity. As far as husbands went, he was already a spectacular failure.

‘That is to be expected. Not many people would be quite so composed in the face of such upheaval in their normal routine.’ He met her eyes. ‘You may brush off my compliment but know that I mean it earnestly. And I would like to make this transition as easy as possible for you as you find your feet here. Starting with your own personal phone line in your suite, perhaps?’

‘Thank you. That’s very kind.’ She smiled. ‘My father had my mobile phone account cancelled at some point since we eloped.’

‘King Fabian is not known for making direct statements when he is displeased.’ Khal spoke thoughtfully. ‘I will also have a top-of-the-range device delivered to your suite tomorrow.’

‘Really, a simple landline is fine,’ she argued.

‘You are the Sheikha of Zayyar now, Cressida. If you want something, anything at all, it will be obtained for you. You need only ask.’

For a moment, he thought she might argue. He watched the delicate play of emotions cross her features as she bent to retrieve a book from the pile at their feet. When she stood up straight again, her face was a polite mask of control. Something inside him briefly wondered what lay underneath that mask, what she was truly feeling about her situation, but he brushed away the sentimental thought.

He escorted her back to her suite, making idle conversation about the various parts of the palace she had seen in his absence. As he listened to her genuine appreciation of his ancestral home, he found himself inwardly making plans to show her the hidden gems that few knew about. To play tour guide in his own kingdom and show her the true Zayyar.

He simply wanted her to feel at home here, he told himself, but a strange sensation seemed to envelope him in her presence. The physical attraction was there, of course, but something else had joined it. He wanted her to feel at ease with him, he realised.