Claiming His Replacement Queen (Monteverre Marriages 2)

She brought her gaze back to him. ‘I’m sorry but this kind of stuff is exciting for me. I’m trying my best not to get out my phone to research ancient symbols on the university library database.’ She paused, realising with a pang of sadness that she no longer had access to the database as she was no longer a student. Still, she forced a smile. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t.’

‘I’m thankful. What would my guards think of me if they walked in here and you were on your phone on our wedding night?’

‘Oh, I doubt the signal is strong enough in the middle of the desert, anyway.’ She smiled, hardly believing that they were having light conversation after the hyper intensity of the past two days. He still did not smile but his eyes seemed warmer at least, more inviting, like they had at the bar the first time they’d spoken. It seemed like another life, rather than mere days ago.

‘I can assure you the signal would be perfect,’ he said, offhand. ‘Zayyar trades in technology; it is the lifeblood of our economy right now.’

‘I read an article that called you an economic genius.’

‘The success of this kingdom is a result of the strength and knowledge of the members of government, the money that is put into educating our people and ensuring their quality of life. I believe that when you spend time on nourishing the foundations, growth is inevitable.’

‘My father seems to have a very different idea on the measure of economic success,’ Cressida said, tracing a circle on the embroidered bedspread. ‘When his advisors warned him that economic crisis was forecast, his answer was to buy a new fleet of tanks for the military. A show of wealth, he called it. As though pretending debt was not a problem would simply make it true.’

‘There are many leaders who think this way. My great-grandfather was one of them.’

She knew a brief history of the kingdom and the wars that had been waged two generations before. She could see it on his face, the tightness that settled around his eyes at the mention of his ancestor. ‘It must be hard, having that history to work against.’

‘Not as hard as it must have been for those who lived through it.’ He became quiet then, his features turning hard.

‘You care a lot about your kingdom,’ she said simply.

‘The same must be said of you, to have agreed to a marriage in order to save it.’

Cressida shrugged, studying the markings on the ceiling to avoid his knowing gaze. ‘There are not many things that third in line to the throne is expected to do, except remain free of scandal and marry according to the King’s wishes.’

‘And now King Fabian finds himself with only one direct heir...’ Khal mused.

Cressida looked up, surprised that she had not thought of that fact. Now that Olivia had given up her place in line to the throne the duty fell entirely upon Eleanor to ensure there was a new generation of Sandovals to carry on the name. And the throne. ‘My father is not known for his excellent decision-making skills.’

‘Your sister will make an excellent queen,’ Khal said earnestly. ‘I do not doubt that the future of Monteverre is in competent hands.’

‘They just need to survive the remainder of my father’s rule.’ Cressida smiled ruefully, worrying at her bottom lip. ‘But thank you.’

She felt something bloom in her chest at his kind words. She had always looked up to her oldest sister for guidance as a child but she had never envied her position one bit. She had never harboured a desire to become Queen, knowing her strengths lay happily in academic work and keeping a low profile. Just look where that had got her.

‘I must point out that you said that it was your duty to remain free of scandal, and yet in London...’

‘I was not seeking scandal,’ she said, her shoulders straightening. ‘I just acted on impulse for the first time in my adult life. It made sense at the time.’

‘And now?’

She felt it humming between them again, that sizzle of awareness that she wished she could ignore. But the events in London had made that entirely impossible. She could not tell herself that the attraction was one-sided any more than she could tell herself that the earth was square. It was simply a fact, heavy in the air between them. Ever present in the tension that seemed to coil tight in her abdomen whenever she was in his presence.

‘Now it is irrelevant.’ She shrugged. ‘I am...your wife.’

Something darkened in his eyes at her words. ‘Indeed.’

The large bed suddenly felt too small, her body restless under his heated gaze. She turned her head away, murmuring a hasty goodnight as she tried to relax into the pillows. She was vaguely aware of him moving to extinguish some of the lamps in the tent before returning to the bed but she didn’t dare open her eyes. Feigning sleep soon became effortless as the activities of the day caught up with her and sleep claimed her.

* * *

It was too hot, Cressida mused, turning over onto her stomach and feeling a sheen of sweat on her skin. The air in her nostrils was white-hot and strangely heavy in her lungs, almost painful. Her eyes snapped open, seeing a strange glow illuminating the room like dancing lights through a fog. Not fog, she corrected herself, smoke.

She felt drunk, consciousness sliding away from her like desert sand through her fingers. Sleep pulled her back, the strange dream melting away.

A man’s voice shouted nearby in a language she could not understand, jolting her once more. Then she was being lifted from the bed into strong arms and carried at frantic speed. The strange fog suddenly became recognisable smoke in her lungs, the dancing lights the visible flames of a red-hot fire that was burning up one entire side of the tent. Suddenly the stars were above them and fresh oxygen filled her lungs, making her eyes water. She looked up and found herself eye level with Khal’s strong jaw, his powerful body carrying her in a zigzag path through the encampment to where a trio of bl

ack dune buggies lay in wait. He deposited her onto the back seat, taking her face in his hands.