‘I do not have the liberty to indulge my desires. Accepting I do not have any right to the throne is difficult. I am still coming to terms with it.’
‘And what of Elena?’
‘We love each other. She has accepted I will not be Sheikh, although I am still ruler of my mother’s tribe, and as such I give my obeisance to you.’
To Aziz’s shock Khalil sank to one knee, his head bowed. Aziz’s eyes stung and he blinked rapidly.
‘Get up,’ he said, his voice choked. ‘I’ve never stood on ceremony.’
Khalil rose slowly, his gaze steady. ‘People like you, Aziz. You have charmed most of Europe. You can win the affection of the people of Kadar.’
‘Thank you for your vote of confidence.’ Except, Aziz acknowledged, he’d won the love of people by not being himself. By play-acting a role he was already tired of. And when people learned the truth...
Olivia knew the truth. He’d spilled his sad, sorry secrets to her and she was still here, still supporting him.
Loving him?
Was that what she’d been going to tell him? Could he dare believe that she felt even a little for him what he felt for her?
Could he risk baring his heart to another person, begging someone to love him back?
Aziz blinked the questions back. ‘You must have heard, I’ve married myself,’ he told Khalil.
‘Yes.’
‘Since it’s not Elena, the people may have trouble accepting my bride.’
‘Then it is up to you to show them how capable she is.’
And Olivia was certainly that. She was calm, strong and dignified, yet with so much heart and warmth. He hadn’t seen it at first, not when she’d just been his cool, capable housekeeper. But he saw it now and he felt his heart swell with pride. She would, he thought, make an excellent queen.
‘You can do this,’ Khalil said quietly. ‘You can do it on your own, but it would be my honour to help you.’
Aziz stared at Khalil for a long moment, his thoughts whirling through his mind like leaves in a storm. Then slowly he nodded and reached out to shake the other man’s hand.
The past was, at least in part, forgiven. Healed. He had Olivia to thank for it; he knew that. Olivia had helped him and healed him in so many ways.
He needed to tell her that, needed to tell her so much. If only he could find the courage.
* * *
Two hours had passed since Aziz had left their bedroom and the sky was inky-black and spangled with stars. Olivia had been staring at it through the window, the shutters thrown open to the night, her mind first blank and paralyzed, then seething with questions and fears, and back again.
At some point she dressed, and Mada brought food in that she couldn’t eat. She paced the room restlessly and then picked at a salad, nearly threw it up and went back to the bed, sitting on its edge as she clutched a pillow to her chest.
In her mind she went over that last exchange with Aziz. He’d looked so cold, so closed. She’d wanted to be with him, to share this with him and support him in whatever happened with Khalil, but he hadn’t wanted her. That had been all too painfully obvious.
She clutched the pillow hard, felt the first threat of tears. Maybe she should just give up. Admit defeat. Accept what Aziz was offering, or even try to live apart if it would hurt too much.
Or you could tell him you love him.
The thought flooded her with terror. What would happen if he told her he didn’t love her? If he looked appalled or horrified? She might slide into the kind of endless despair she’d felt after losing Daniel. Losing Aziz, she knew with heart-sickening clarity, would be just as painful.
She heard the snick of the door opening and closing and Olivia glanced up, the pillow still clutched to her chest.
Aziz stood there, his expression impossible to read. Olivia swallowed hard.
‘What happened?’ she managed in a whisper and Aziz walked slowly into the room. He turned to gaze out of the window, his back to her.
‘Khalil has renounced his claim.’
‘Renounced—?’ Olivia stopped and stared at Aziz who was still facing away from her. ‘But that’s good news, isn’t it?’ she asked uncertainly because he didn’t seem happy.
‘Very good news.’ Aziz’s voice was flat. ‘Apparently he’d always believed he was the rightful heir. He didn’t think his mother had ever been unfaithful to my father.’
‘And he learned...’
‘The truth. Yesterday. His aunt told him. He’s officially withdrawing his claim. There will be no war, no referendum. He wants to support my rule, help heal our country.’ He stated all this so matter-of-factly, his back still to her.
Olivia stared at him in confusion and then with a terrible, dawning realisation: his throne was essentially secure. If he wanted to, he could end their marriage. After all, he’d told her that he’d never wanted to be married in the first place.
She hadn’t even been introduced to the public, Olivia thought sickly. And, if Khalil had renounced his claim, he would have let Elena go. Aziz could marry Elena, if he wanted to. If he wanted to be married at all.
She licked her lips, felt her heart beat with slow, hard, painful thuds. ‘Do you...do you want to annul the marriage?’
‘Annul?’ Aziz turned around, his expression still so very blank. ‘Is that what you want, Olivia?’
‘I’m asking because you seem so...so strange, Aziz. And I know you never wanted to be married in the first place.’
‘No,’ he agreed after a moment. ‘I didn’t.’
‘So...’ She spread her hands, not wanting to be the one to say the words. She didn’t want to offer him an out. Only hours ago she’d wanted to tell him she loved him. She’d wanted more, not less.
She still wanted more.
‘So?’ he repeated. ‘So you want me to release you from our marriage vows? Is that it?’ His voice rose, surprising both of them. ‘So much for taking them seriously, then.’
‘I thought it’s what you wanted!’ Olivia cried, her voice breaking. ‘Tell me what you want, Aziz.’
He stared at her, his chest heaving with emotion, his eyes full of anguish she didn’t understand. ‘I want you to love me,’ he whispered. ‘God, I’d never thought I’d say that again. I never thought I’d let myself beg for someone’s love ever again.’
‘You don’t need to beg—’
‘But after I left you to see Khalil I realised how much I wanted you with me. How much I loved you.’
Olivia blinked back tears, amazement and hope unfurling inside her. ‘You did?’
‘Yes. I love you, Olivia, so much. I’ve been fighting it since you came to Kadar or, hell, maybe even before then. Maybe since I first started wondering about you, about the woman with the wonderful laugh who played music that made me want to both weep and sing. I just haven’t wanted to tell you, haven’t wanted to admit it even to myself, because it was so frightening to think of being rejected again—and this time even worse.’
‘You wouldn’t—’ Olivia began, but he continued, the words coming faster.
‘I don’t expect you to love me back. I’m not asking for a miracle. But I needed to tell you, and I hope—’ His voice wavered before he continued. ‘I hope that maybe in time you might come to feel for me as I feel for you. At least a little.’
‘Oh, Aziz.’ A tear slipped down Olivia’s cheek as she realised how much this beautiful, broken man was risking for her. He’d told her he loved her without any idea of how she felt in return. Without even hoping that she might love him the way he loved her.
He loved her.
‘Is that too much to ask?’ he whispered. ‘In time? I know you’ve been hurt, Olivia. So badly. But I want to help you get over that pain, at least as much as you can. I’d never minimise how much losing Daniel affected you, but—’
‘Aziz.’ She smiled through her tears as she walked towards him. ‘Stop talking.’
‘What—?’
‘I love you,’ she said simply. ‘I already love you. Now, here, so much. I wanted to tell you earlier but I didn’t have the chance, and the truth is I was afraid you wouldn’t want to hear it. Afraid of what I’d do, how I’d feel, if you told me you didn’t want my love.’
Aziz was staring at her as if he couldn’t make sense of her words. ‘But a few minutes ago you asked if I wanted to annul our marriage.’
‘Because I was afraid.’ She knew she needed to explain more. ‘I didn’t tell you everything about when I gave up Daniel,’ she began. ‘Or just how badly it affected me.’ She closed her eyes for a second, heard her father’s determinedly cheerful voice in her head. Do what your mother says, Olivia, it’s for the best. Now, come on, darling, let’s have no more unpleasantness. Play the piano for me, eh? Just like old times.
As if she hadn’t just spilled her guts right there in front of him, torn out her heart and offered it to him, begging him to help her. Support her.
It had been that fear, the memory of how hurt she’d been, how destroyed after confessing her heart, that had kept her from telling Aziz she loved him. But she was telling him now. She’d tell him everything.