Commanded by the sheikh

But now...with Olivia... When he’d wiped away her tears, when he’d held her in his arms, when he’d felt her pain...

He couldn’t let himself want more. Olivia didn’t want to love him, and he didn’t want to love her. They needed to keep it that way. Keep it simple. Keep it safe.

‘I can’t give you an answer now,’ she said finally. ‘It’s too big a decision. I know you have to marry by tomorrow, and I can tell you later today, perhaps. But I can’t...’ She shook her head, biting her lip.

‘I understand,’ Aziz said quietly. It was a huge decision, for both of them. And, just as Olivia had pointed out earlier, it was a case of needs must for him, but not for her.

She turned to him. ‘What will you do if I say no?’

‘That’s not your problem to worry about, Olivia. And frankly I’d rather you didn’t agree just because you’re trying to save me.’ He smiled wryly, although he felt a certain heaviness inside. He couldn’t stand the thought of her pity. ‘This isn’t a mercy mission.’

‘I know that.’

‘Any marriage between us would, I hope, benefit you as much as it would me.’ Although he wasn’t sure if he believed that. What did he really have to offer Olivia? Sex? She could get it somewhere else if she wanted it. Friendship? If she wanted friends, she could make them. She didn’t need to get married, for heaven’s sake.

So what would motivate her to agree? What was making her think seriously about it now?

And then he knew. Of course—a child. She wanted a child.

Not him; not his friendship or even just his body. Only a child. A child of her own.

‘Think about it,’ he said, and his voice sounded strange, stilted. He forced a smile. ‘You know where to find me when you have your answer.’

She nodded slowly, and after an endless moment she turned and left the room.

Aziz remained seated, staring, his mind spinning emptily. Distantly he wondered how he would feel if Olivia now agreed to marry him. And with a heaviness inside he knew it wouldn’t be the unadulterated relief he’d been anticipating just a few moments ago—and he didn’t even want to figure out why.

* * *

Olivia walked slowly down the corridor, barely aware of where she was going. Somehow she found her way back to her bedroom, which thankfully was empty. She didn’t think she could face seeing anyone just now, not even Mada or Abra with their kind, smiling faces.

She sank onto the bed, her mind still spinning, emotional and physical exhaustion crashing over her in a tidal wave.

What had just happened?

The events of the last few hours swirled through her mind, from her passionate kiss with Aziz in the royal gardens, to his shocking marriage proposal, to her own just as shocking admission. She’d told him about Daniel. She’d cried in front of him, had sought his comfort, had revelled in the feel of his arms around her. She was seriously thinking about accepting his marriage proposal.

She’d said it was madness, and he’d agreed. It was madness. She barely knew him. She’d have to be a queen, appearing in public, photographed by newspapers when all she’d ever wanted was a quiet, solitary life.

She’d have a child.

Another child—not one to replace Daniel, because no baby could ever do that, but one to keep and love, one to redeem both her past and herself. One to cherish...

Olivia told herself she could have a child without getting married. Women did it all the time; you didn’t even need a man any more, just a sperm bank. She was half-amazed she hadn’t thought of it before, yet the prospect held no appeal now. She wanted a child, yes, but she knew she wanted more than that. She wanted an equal, loving partner to support her and help raise their child.

And how on earth could that be Aziz? He’d just laid out all the reasons he didn’t want a real, loving marriage. She was heading for heartbreak at a hundred miles an hour and the only way to stop was to get on a plane to Paris.

But the thought of going back to Paris now felt like regression. Defeat. She couldn’t go back, not to the life she’d once had, and not to the little better than that life she’d been thinking of.

She wanted more. She wanted it all. But it was madness to try for it with Aziz.

Wasn’t it?

Aziz had made it clear he wasn’t looking to love or be loved. Enough and no more, he’d said. But how much was enough?

A tremor ran through her body as she once again remembered that incredible kiss...and imagined being with Aziz as a wife, a lover. The feel of his hands on her body, his mouth on hers...

With a shuddery breath Olivia lay down on the bed and stared at the canopy above her. Could she really be thinking about marrying Aziz?

She rolled onto her side, tucked her legs up to her chest and closed her eyes. Madness, she told herself. Madness. He’d already stirred up so many feelings and desires inside her. How much more of a maelstrom would he create in her if she married him?

Even if they set limits on their relationship, kept to simply being friends, it wouldn’t work.

Would it?

Or could she keep herself from feeling too much, from falling in love with him? She’d kept herself from feeling anything at all for ten years. Surely she could manage it?

Did she really have any choice?

With a jolt Olivia realised she’d already decided. Of course she had. She wasn’t going to go back to a half-life of safety, numbness and fear. Aziz had changed her too much already for that. And, if she wasn’t going to go back, she had to go forward. She wanted what Aziz offered: friendship, physical affection, a child.

It was so much more than she’d ever had in her adult life and it would have to be enough. She would make it be enough, Olivia told herself. She would choose joy.

A sudden bubble of incredulous wonder rose up inside her, escaped in a gurgle of sound—although whether it was a laugh, a sob or something in between Olivia didn’t know.

Because, while she was choosing life, hope and happiness, she had no idea what that would actually look like. Feel like. And even more alarmingly, she was quite sure that Aziz wasn’t choosing the same things.

* * *

Aziz paced the confines of his study, as he’d been doing for the last hour since Olivia had left him. He was going to wear the carpet to threads, he thought wryly, then let out an impatient sigh as he glanced at the clock.

How much time should he give her? And what the hell was he going to do if she said no?

He walked to the window, bracing his hands on the sill as the evening breeze, only just beginning to cool, blew over him. The trouble was, he didn’t just want some nameless bride to fulfil the terms of his father’s will any more. If Olivia refused his proposal, he could most likely find someone else to marry him. He’d sign another legal document that covered every eventuality; he’d work hard to make sure his bride was accepted by his people.

But he didn’t want to do that any more; he was amazed that he’d ever wanted it, that he’d been willing to enter an utterly soulless agreement with Elena.

And what are you going to have with Olivia, if she agrees?

Aziz pushed away from the window and paced restlessly once more. The afternoon with Olivia had blown all his preconceptions, all his priorities, to hell. Their passionate kiss. Her heartbroken confession. The feel of her in his arms, her hair brushing against his cheek, her tears wetting his shirt.

Just the memory made him ache in a way he hadn’t ached since he was a boy desperate to gain his father’s approval. His love.

Was he going to be so phenomenally stupid as to go down that path again? Try to make someone love him, someone who didn’t, and didn’t even want to? Who had said as much?

No, of course not. He’d learned his lesson, surely. And, while he might feel tender and protective towards Olivia when she was obviously in a vulnerable state, he wasn’t about to love her. Of course he wasn’t.

If he married her, he’d give her what he’d promised. Companionship. Children. Loyalty.

But not love. Never love.

A sound at the doorway startled him and he turned, his heart seeming to leap into his throat and then still completely as he saw Olivia standing there. She still wore the plain trousers and tailored shirt she’d had on earlier, but they looked slightly crumpled now, and her hair was loose and dark about her face. The dye, Aziz noticed, was already starting to fade; he could see streaks of caramel through the black, the real Olivia coming through.

‘Good evening.’ He cleared his throat and forced a light smile as he raised his eyebrows in teasing query. ‘You look rather serious, Olivia.’

‘I feel rather serious,’ she answered quietly. She stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. ‘Malik said I could find you here. I hope I’m not disturbing you?’

‘No, of course not.’ He’d just been waiting for her to find him for the last hour. ‘Have you made a decision?’

‘Yes.’

He smiled, shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and rocked on his heels. ‘Well, don’t keep me in suspense.’

‘I don’t mean to. It’s just—it’s a bit like leaping off a cliff, isn’t it, Aziz? And you have no idea what waits for you at the bottom.’

His heart lurched, although whether in relief or hope or even fear he didn’t know. Wouldn’t consider. ‘Is that a yes, Olivia?’