A Diamond for the Sheikh's Mistress

Zafir reached out and cupped Kat’s jaw. His eyes were suspiciously bright.

‘I love all of you, Kat—every bit. I love the little girl who was pushed out in front of cameras and lights at far too young an age. I love the young teenager who struggled to protect her mother and who did something radical to keep her mother alive because she had no other choice. I love the young woman who didn’t let her experiences make her bitter, but who clung on to something good in spite of being blackmailed by an arch manipulator... And I love the woman who overcame a massive life event to become even stronger and more proud. You have a huge life ahead of you, and you’re going to be an inspiration to so many people.’

Zafir got down on one knee in front of Kat and she stopped breathing. He pulled a black box out of his pocket and looked ridiculously nervous. He opened it to reveal a square-shaped Art Deco ring, with a red stone surrounded by white diamonds.

‘Is that...?’ She couldn’t even finish the question.

Zafir nodded, his eyes on her as he took the ring out of the box. ‘It’s part of the Heart of Jandor red diamond. My great-grandfather had it made for my great-grandmother out of an offcut of the original stone. It wasn’t her engagement ring, but she wore it every day. I wanted to give you a different ring, Kat. To symbolise a fresh start... That is...if you’ll have me?’

Kat’s chest had swelled so much that her eyes stung. She felt as if she might float away, but Zafir was anchoring her to the ground, waiting for her answer.

At the last moment old insecurities surfaced. ‘What if your mother is right, Zafir? I’m not cut out to be Queen... I’ll let you down...’

Zafir stood up, looking fierce. ‘You will make a great Queen, Kat. You’re compassionate and passionate. You’re intelligent and endlessly kind—and stronger than anyone else I know. Jasmine adores you and Rahul would die for you. When I saw you holding that falcon you humbled me with your innate grace. It was then that I knew I couldn’t let you go. And then I found out about my father and I knew I had no right to ask anything more of you. Do you want to know what Amira said to me at the hospital?’

Kat nodded, feeling overwhelmed at everything he was saying, each word soothing the wounds of her soul.

‘She said to me, “Your Queen is beautiful,” and she was right. You are beautiful—inside and out. My mother was born and bred to be Queen and she spread nothing but pain and misery... You are more of a Queen than she could ever be.’

Kat eventually held out her hand and said in a choked voice, ‘Then, yes, I’ll be your Queen. I love you, Zafir.’

He grew blurry in her vision as he put the ring on her finger, and then she was being lifted into his arms and taken over to the bed.

He laid her down and said fervently, ‘I need you, Kat, so much...’

She put her arms around him and arched into his body. ‘I’ll never walk away from you again,’ she said emotionally. ‘You’re my King and my home, Zafir.’

Six months later

Kat stood behind the curtain with Amira’s hand tightly clasped in hers. They looked at each other and Kat winked. Amira smiled widely. In the last few months the little girl had been transformed into her normal gregarious self again, with a new prosthetic leg.

A

woman stepped forward and whispered, ‘Your Majesty, whenever you’re ready...’

Kat wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to being called Your Majesty, but slowly, with each day, it was sinking in that she was a Queen.

She looked at Amira to make sure she was ready, and then took a breath, pushing the curtain aside and stepping forward.

Lights illuminated their path down the long catwalk. They were both dressed in the latest designs from Jandor’s best designers for Jahor’s inaugural fashion week, with all proceeds from the show going to the global amputee fund that Kat and Zafir had set up in recent months. The fund gave money to all aspects of limb loss, including research into prosthetic limbs.

Kat had been persuaded out of retirement by Julie, but was only agreeing to modelling work that didn’t conflict with her role as Queen of Jandor, and work that didn’t disguise her limb—and, again, all proceeds were going to charity. She was determined to make her face and her body work for the best causes this time, and she’d never felt more fulfilled or happier.

But then, her work wasn’t the most important thing in her life. Not by a long shot.

As they reached the end of the catwalk and Amira twirled around just as Kat had instructed her earlier, Kat caught Zafir’s eye where he was sitting in the front row. His grey gaze blazed into hers, and then it dropped explicitly to where the swell of her six-months-pregnant belly was visible under the kaftan she wore.

The baby kicked, and Kat couldn’t stop a huge grin breaking across her face as her eyes met Zafir’s again. And then she turned and walked serenely back down the catwalk with the little girl.

* * *

The following morning the headline on the front page of the Jahor Times simply said The Look of Love. And below it was a picture of Kat and Zafir gazing at each other, with her hand protectively cradling the swell of her belly.

Zafir threw down the newspaper and turned to face Kat, where she lay in bed. He splayed a big hand possessively over her naked pregnant belly and Kat rolled her eyes when the baby kicked.

She grumbled good-naturedly, ‘It’s already two against one...’

Zafir pulled Kat close and smoothed his hand down her body until he found her left thigh. He lifted it up so that the centre of his body came into contact with the centre of hers. She gasped when she felt him, hard and ready.