Desert Prince's Stolen Bride

g a small group of friends from work. This was the life she had dreamed of, yet it felt so terribly empty.

She had heard nothing from Zayed, no word of an annulment or divorce, even, so bizarrely they were still married. She’d avoided tabloids and gossip magazines, not wanting to read of his resumed betrothal to Halina, and when her friend had contacted her on social media Olivia had guiltily ignored her. She wasn’t ready yet. Everything still felt raw and fragile. But she would get there. The last few months, first with Zayed and now in Paris, had showed her how strong she was, and she depended on that strength now. A broken heart could mend. A shattered life could be rebuilt.

She had heard news of Kalidar; it was impossible to ignore when it made the headlines. The military had staged a coup and asked Zayed to return as their leader. Apparently, they had been growing tired of Malouf’s ill treatment. Bloody skirmishes had followed, with Malouf making a desperate last stand, but a week ago Zayed had ridden into the capital city of Arjah, triumphant and regal. He’d had Malouf imprisoned and tried for war crimes as well as the murder of his family. In a few weeks he was finally going to be crowned King of Kalidar. dpg!

Olivia was happy for him. He’d finally achieved all he’d been striving for for so long. All he deserved. She wondered if his marriage to Halina would go ahead, but she knew it didn’t matter anyway. Zayed hadn’t loved her. Hadn’t chosen her. Whether he married Halina or not was irrelevant.

And she needed to get on with her life. With a weary sigh Olivia reached for her bag and slung it over her shoulder. She enjoyed the translation work she did, but she couldn’t see herself doing it for ever. The future yawned ahead of her, as bleak and endless as the desert sands.

She needed to stop thinking like that. And to stop thinking about the desert, or Kalidar, or anything to do with Zayed. Anything could trigger memories of their time together—a hard blue sky, the taste of anise, the whisper of silk. All of it brought the days and nights she’d spent with him, falling in love with him, rushing back.

Olivia walked down the four narrow flights of stairs to the street, opening the front door of her building to a crisp autumn day...and Zayed.

She stared at him in disbelief, blinking several times as if she thought he might vanish, a desert mirage right here in the middle of Paris.

‘Hello, Olivia.’

Still she stared. He wore a navy-blue business suit, his dark hair brushed back from his bronzed face, his grey-green eyes sparkling as he gave her a smile that was both wry and tender.

‘What...?’ Her voice was hoarse. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Looking for you.’

The frail hope that had been unfurling inside her withered before it had had the barest chance to bloom. ‘You want a divorce,’ she said woodenly. After all this time, it shouldn’t hurt, but even now it felt as if he were plunging a careless fist into her chest and yanking her heart out. Her last tie to him would be cleanly severed.

‘A divorce?’ Zayed shook his head. ‘No, Olivia, I don’t want a divorce.’

‘But Princess Halina...?’

‘Have you not heard from her?’

Olivia bit her lip and shook her head. ‘I haven’t.’

‘And nor have I. Princess Halina refused to marry me, back when we were both in Abkar.’

‘Refused,’ Olivia repeated. Her mind was whirling. ‘That must have been disappointing.’ Had he come to her as second best? Once she would have accepted being the runner up, a last resort. She would have been grateful. But Zayed, funnily enough, had shown her that she was worth more. That she deserved more. Too bad he hadn’t realised it.

‘It was surprising,’ Zayed allowed. ‘But not disappointing. What I felt most of all, habibi, was relief. Because the only woman I want to be married to is my wife.’

Olivia registered the term distantly. She still couldn’t believe what he was saying, what he was implying.

‘It’s been three months, Zayed, and I haven’t heard a word from you.’

‘I know.’ He took a measured breath. ‘A few days after I last saw you, Malouf’s military staged a coup. There was bloodshed and violence; I could not leave my country.’

‘I know that. I read about it in the news. But since then...not even a message...?’ She shook her head, hating that it had come to this, that part of her, even now, wanted to accept whatever he was offering. How little he was offering.

‘I had to find you first,’ Zayed replied steadily. ‘And, the truth is, I wanted to give you some time.’

‘Time?’

‘To consider what you really want. I know, Olivia, that you’ve never really lived on your own. You never had a chance to discover what you were truly capable of. I wanted to give you that chance, as well as some emotional distance from what we experienced. So we could both discover if what we felt was real and lasting.’

‘What we felt.’ Olivia hitched her bag higher on her shoulder, afraid to hope. ‘What is it you feel, Zayed?’

There was no hesitation in his voice as he answered. ‘I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time now. The seeds were planted that first night.’

Why was she so afraid to believe? ‘But you left me,’ Olivia whispered. ‘When I was so ill...’