CHAPTER SIX
Adin sounded better than he had in a long time, but he still had to break the call to pause and cough.
“Sorry, my child. Please, continue.”
“Uncle, you know I have the greatest respect for you.”
Adin’s laugh was cackled. “Yes, yes. What do you need?”
“It’s not what I need, sir.”
Adin coughed again. “Is there a problem in Falina?”
Ash nodded. “You could say that.”
“The marriage agreement is water tight. Neither side can break it. Is that old bastard asking for more?”
“No,” Ash shook his head.
“Because his daughter is an excellent candidate for Syed but we’re already paying above the odds.”
“Please don’t,” Ash said quickly. “I don’t think we should speak as though Charlotte is being bought.”
Adin’s laugh was deep. “Okay, if you wish. So? What is the problem?”
“I don’t think she will make Syed happy,” Ash said after a moment, guilt worming through him at the complete, bald-faced lie.
“I presume you’ve met her? She’s a beautiful girl. Intelligent. I like her.”
“I like her too,” Ash responded truthfully. “But she is not a match for Syed. They’re fundamentally different people.”
Adin was quiet, and Ashad wondered if the old man was listening to him. It would be a pleasant reprieve if he could be brought to agreement.
“Then they will have to learn to be compatible,” Adin said after a pause. “This marriage is to go ahead. I know Syed does not wish to marry her, but he must. He has thoughts of that American in his head, and only marriage can correct that.”
Ash shook his head. “You wouldn’t see him married to someone against his will.”
“You know Charlotte. Do you think he will be immune to her charms for long?”
“No.” Ash was numb. He could imagine that Charlotte would put anyone and anything from Syed’s mind with ease. “What if …” He felt an unusual sense of apprehension quiet his words.
“Yes?” Adin barked impatiently.
“I will marry her,” Ash said, and the second he said it, he knew that the words were an expression of what was in his heart. A smile moved over his face. “I will marry her.”
Adin’s laugh surprised him. “She has charmed you, eh?”
Ashad shook his head. “Syed doesn’t want to marry Charlotte. I would be happy to.”
“I’m sure,” Adin’s tone was droll. He coughed, and Ash could imagine the way his lips would have curved into a small smile. “She is Syed’s betrothed, Ashad. The contracts are done.”
“The details aren’t finalised,” Ash pointed out.
“The details do not matter. The betrothal is formalised. Neither I, nor Rama can put them aside.”
“Of course you can. You are the King …”
“Ashad?” Adin cleared his throat and when he spoke again his voice was weak. Tired. Guild flushed through Ashad. “You are a good boy. You know what is needed of you. Finish the contracts and come home.”
“But …”
“Enough. It is done. She is to marry Syed. Understood?”
His uncle’s insistence was strange. “Is this about the American woman?”
Silence crackled between them. Angry silence – at least, from Ashad’s part. And, he guessed, his uncle’s.
“Sarah Smith,” Adin muttered with obvious distaste.
“Yes.” Ash nodded, trying to recall the scandal that had taken place. Only Adin and Syed had been reticent to discuss it. Ash knew only that Syed had believed himself in love. That Adin had deeply disapproved.
“My son will marry whom I choose. For the sake of the kingdom and his own happiness.”
“But if he loves …”
“He does not love this woman. His body might have been won by her, but she is all wrong. No. He will marry Charlotte. And you, my dear nephew? You will find your own bride who is every bit as charming as Syed’s.”
Ash disconnected the call as quickly as he was able; he had never shouted at his uncle before but his current mood made him think a first time was looming.
He respected his uncle enormously, but the call had only served to harden his resolve.
Charlotte and Syed would be broken of this obligation – and he would do the breaking. To hell with the consequences.
* * *
It was a perfect morning in Falina. The sun was shining despite the earliness of the hour and the sky was a crisp, glowing blue. A light breeze lifted off the marina, filling the air with the hint of salt, and in the distance, the fishing trawlers had returned and the activity of the men unpacking them could be heard even at the entrance to Tiffany & Co.
“Your Highness.” The manager for the jewellery store bowed so low his nose almost touched the paved footpath.
Ashad nodded. “I appreciate your opening the store especially for me.
“Of course,” the man nodded. “Please.”
Ashad was ushered inside, past four security guards and several store clerks.
“You have the items.”
“As you ordered. Would you like to view them?”
Ash shook his head. The idea of doing so in front of half a dozen shop staff turned his stomach. These were private items; things he’d ordered with Charlotte alone in mind. “No.”
“Very good.”
The manager handed over a signature turquoise bag, tied at the top with a frothy white ribbon.
“It has been a pleasure arranging this for you.”
Ash nodded, curling his hands over the ribbon. “My embassy has organised payment and the confidentiality agreements?”
The manager nodded. “Such agreements are unnecessary, but we have all signed them.”
“Good.” Ash turned on his heel and strode out of the shop, his business concluded, his mind moving on to the next part of the puzzle.
Charlotte was just stepping out of her apartment building as he exited the shop. Her head turned in his direction and he laughed to see that she’d attempted to go incognito – a large, wide-brimmed hat, linen pants and a kaftan top completed the look. Unfortunately for Charlotte, nothing could take away from the unique sense of elegance and grace she possessed. He would have picked her a mile off.
Charlotte was self-conscious. She walked towards him slowly, studying first Ashad, then the bag he held, and finally, the marina. It was deserted, save for the early morning shop staff and the boat crews coming off the trawlers.
“Good morning,” his voice was a deep rumble that made her stomach twist.
“Hey.” She cleared her throat. “Something in there for your bride of convenience?” She said with a lifted brow, teasing him and hoping he’d dispel the existence of such a person at the same time.
He laughed. “More of a bride of inconvenience, actually,” he said cryptically.
Jealousy was a hard flash. “Right.”
“I have a question to ask you. And it’s important.”
Her heart began to hammer, hard, against her rib cage. Thumpedy thumpedy thump thump thump. She could feel it banging against her body. For the briefest moment, she let herself imagine that she was being proposed to. It was pure fantasy, but she let herself imagine that he was going to say something magical and special and ask her to marry him.
The direction of her thoughts was astounding. They’d just met! And she was betrothed! What the hell was she thinking? Marrying him would be madness. Madness!
More so than marrying Syed, a little voice in the back of her mind asked.
“Okay. What is it?”
His smile sent goose bumps along her arms. She felt the spark of attraction buzz between them. It was a palpable tension; if she reached out, surely she would feel the air vibrate with that need.
“Do you trust me?”
Her body tingled and her mouth was dry. Did she trust him? “Yes,” she whispered, and it was absolutely true. She trusted him completely and utterly. “I do.”
“Good.” He took a step and she moved with him instinctively. “Try to remember that.”
She wanted to ask him what the hell he meant but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she walked beside him, and found that each step they took made her feel more and more … alive.
Her fingertips itched. She wanted to reach down and put her hand in his, but instead, she dropped her hand and let it brush his. The look he shot her was pure fire. It burned through her.
What was she doing?
This had the potential to be a disaster!
How could she be falling for this guy? He was the cousin of her fiancé and it sounded like he had some woman, somewhere, who meant something to him. Would her parents consider cancelling her engagement?
She looked away from Ashad as the idea found feet inside her. Even if they did, would Ashad be interested in her? Was he just flirting for the sake of it? And did she want to be with someone who could make peace with being attracted to their cousin’s betrothed? In any event, there was no way her parents would let her cancel the wedding. Financially, far too much was riding on the union. Billions were at stake.
The boats they past were enormous. Some of the most luxurious in the world, she knew, despite her lack of interest in swimming. He stopped beside one and turned to face her.
“Here we are.” He didn’t smile. His look was one of challenge.
Charlotte’s skin paled beneath her tan. “Where?”
“You trust me, remember?”
She nodded. “But not to go on that thing.”
“Trust me,” he prompted, and now he reached down, squeezing her hand for such a brief moment that she almost doubted it had happened. He leaned closer though, so that his words breathed against her cheek. “I promise it will be worth it.”
Long-held fears were slicing through her. The boat was enormous though – more like a floating mansion.
“Fine. Let’s go.” She looked up at him with nothing but courage in her beautiful eyes.
He wanted to kiss her then, too. It was becoming a more and more frequently occurring impulse.
There were steps that led to the boat and it wasn’t rocking at all. Still, Charlotte gripped the handrail tightly as she moved upwards, onto the deck. Ashad signalled the captain the second she stepped on-deck, not wanting to give her a moment to change her mind.
The engine began to purr beneath them, making the deck reverberate. Charlotte was stricken and he put a hand in the small of her back, guiding her towards an area that had a high railing.
“Hold on, azeezi.”
“Why do you call me that?” She asked, her body stiff.
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“You know why,” she said quietly.
He sighed. “Hold on.” The boat was enormous but the driver was skilled. He negotiated it out of the dock with apparent ease, then turned it towards the open sea.
“Where are we going?”
“Not far.”
They stood in silence as the boat passed many other yachts of incredible design and proportion before it broke free of the marina and burst out of the sheltered area, into the sea. Waves hit the sides but could barely be felt from where they were.
It crested through the ocean, the morning sun bright against them as it cut through the water, finding its own path far from the shores of Falina before turning to run parallel with the coast line.
It went at speed, taking them past familiar landmarks.
After almost twenty minutes, Charlotte turned to face him. “I’m not afraid.”
He laughed. “Remember that, too.”
She frowned. “Why?”
“I’ll show you why. Come with me.” He took her hand now and she didn’t even think of pulling away. They were alone. Well, apart from his staff, whom she presumed could be trusted. She followed behind him, hoping for more than just a simple hand contact. The realisation shamed her, yet she didn’t stop.
At the edge of the deck there were white stairs. He stood aside, allowing her to go down them first.
“Third door on the right,” Ashad called from behind her. Charlotte moved down the wide, elegant corridor, catching glimpses of a lounge area, a dining room, and a cinema before entering the room he’d said.
It was a bedroom.
Holy crap.
A bedroom with an enormous bed, the latest word in designer styling, and portal windows that showed the bobbing ocean beyond them.
“Ashad,” she pulled at her hand now, not about to throw every caution to the wind.
“I have something for you,” he murmured, and confusion drew her brows together.
“What?”
He stowed the Tiffany bag beside the bed and lifted another. La Perla, it said. He handed it over and, curious, Charlotte peeked inside. Whatever it was was wrapped in tissue paper but she knew exactly what La Perla made.
“I don’t think I should look at this.”
“It’s not what you think,” he promised.
Charlotte reached inside and pulled out the tissue paper, unfolding it cautiously, as though it might be a snake about to bite her. Her fingers glided over the unmistakable sensation of lycra and now she moved faster, ripping the bag in her eagerness to see what was within.
A perfectly plain swimsuit, navy blue with white trim, one piece with boy leg. And in her size, too. She stared at it long and hard and then tossed it on the bed.
Because actually, of course, nothing about a swimsuit could be perfectly plain to Charlotte.
“You’d better not be suggesting I put that on.”
“Not only am I suggesting that, I’m going to see to it that you get it very, very wet.”
Her cheeks flushed and her pulse spiked at what had to have been an intentional double entendre.
“Ashad …”
“Do you trust me?”
Her heart flipped over in her chest but she nodded slowly, her eyes huge in her face. “I think I do.”
“Then let me share this with you.” He reached for her now, as though he could no longer help himself. His hand on her cheek was as gentle as a whisper. She pressed her face into it but he was gone again, moving away from her.
“Shall I wait outside?” A gravelled question that made her quiver. What would he do if she told him to stay?
“Uh huh,” she whispered, moving away from him.
He strode from the room, pulling the door shut behind him.
It took no time to change into the swimsuit and adrenalin was moving her fingers, making them dance. She studied her appearance in the mirror, then lifted her hair into a bun high on her head. She secured it with two pins she had in her handbag and then looked around, bemused. She wasn’t going to go above deck in just a bathing costume. She reached for her kaftan and pulled it over the top, the light-weight fabric the perfect complement to the bathers.
But she wasn’t really going to swim, was she?
Ashad was waiting, as promised, just beyond the door to the bedroom. He’d changed too.
She hadn’t expected that.
Ashad was wearing only a pair of dark black board shorts. They fell to just above his knees; there was nothing revealing about them, per se, except for his torso. His muscled, defined, tanned chest with a ridged wall of abdominals and a sprinkling of coarse dark hair that went all the way to the waistband of his shorts, was at her eye level.
“Ready?” He asked.
“I don’t think so,” she smiled up at him weakly.
He laughed, though, and she laughed with him, caught up in the spontaneity and madness of what they were doing. He leaned forward, peering through a window that was visible in the lounge. “We are almost there. Come.”
“Where are we going?”
A grin tossed carelessly over his shoulder was the only answer.
She followed behind him, curiosity overriding fear as they moved back onto the deck. The boat was still travelling quickly, though it had pulled back a little, humming more quietly now as it navigating its way into a sheltered cove.
“What is this?”
“A private beach.”
She nodded. This section of the coast line was broken up by several coves, and many of them had been bought out by billionaire’s decades earlier. It was something her father frowned upon; he believed the beauty of the country should be available for all to enjoy.
“Are you ready?”
She blinked at him. “No, I can’t do this.”
His expression was sombre. “You’re overthinking it.”
“Yeah. Because I can still remember what it felt like to have water filling me up from the inside out.”
He grabbed her hand and tugged her behind him, moving to the edge of the boat. A ladder dangled over the side.
“All you have to do is climb down,” he murmured. “Can you imagine how nice the water feels? So cool on this hot morning?”
She bit down on her lip, shaking her head. “It’s not as simple as that. I’m really afraid …”
He squeezed her hand, and sensation radiated up her arm, warming her heart. “Follow me. Trust me.”
She nodded, but doubts were arrowing through her.
He released his touch so that he could scale the ladder, easing himself down with natural strength. She watched him and, at the bottom, he pushed out from the boat with a confident, relaxed stride. He seemed to tear through the water as though it cost him no effort.
She watched in awe, and envy zipped inside her. How she would love to move like that. Her body was honed and fit; she pushed it to its limits in other ways. But swimming …?
“Come on,” he called up, motioning at her to follow.
“I don’t think I can.”
“I promise I won’t let go.”
Her heart banged hard. He wouldn’t? So far as inducement went, it was exceptional. She put a foot on the first rung of the ladder, and then the next, but belatedly recalled she was still wearing her kaftan. She pulled at it, lifting it over her head by releasing only one hand at a time from the railing. She tossed it onto the deck and then continued moving down the ladder, until her toe touched the water and she jerked to a halt.
But his hands were there, curling around her ankles, stroking her flesh, encouraging her. They were lighting fires where the water had driven an arctic fear deep in her heart.
She took another step, and another, until her knees were in the water, and finally, all of her legs. Her fingers gripped the ladder like a lifeline. Which, she supposed, it was.
He was right behind her. She could feel his breath on her shoulder.
“Let go,” he murmured, so close that she knew if she turned around their lips would mesh. “I’ve got you.”
And, true to his word, his hands came around her waist, holding her tight. He was so strong. So capable. She peeled one hand off the ladder, and then, against her mind’s wishes, the other. Floating in the water, being guided by him, she was processing the shock of the sensations. He shifted a little, bringing himself to face her. His eyes scanned hers, reading them minutely, looking for details that she wasn’t sure she possessed.
“How do you feel,” he asked, kicking under water, keeping them afloat.
“Terrified,” she said honestly.
His hands stroked her back, slowly, deliciously, making her tremble with emotions that had nothing to do with her swimming phobia.
“Of what?”
Her eyes flew to his, the understanding hammered between them.
“I’m marrying your cousin,” she said, but it was a plea.
A muscle jerked in his cheek. “I don’t want you to.”
The sob surprised them both. Ashad, because he hadn’t expected Charlotte to cry – ever – and Charlotte because she wasn’t sad. She was confused. Lost. Literally adrift at sea.
“I have to.” She blinked, and curled her hands around his neck. “I have to.”
“And yet,” he murmured, reaching his hands lower, grabbing her legs and pulling them around his waist, so that she was clamped to his body and could feel for herself the strength of his need for her. Recognition flared dangerously in her eyes; an answering desire was coating her insides. “There is this.”
She sobbed again. “Are you just trying to distract me from the fact that I’m in the ocean?” She said, in an attempt to defuse the tension.
He didn’t want the topic to shift; nor did he want to frighten her. “Why do you have to?” He asked softly, kicking them through the water with an easy, powerful stride.
She swallowed, her fingers gripping him tightly. But she didn’t ask to go back to the boat.
She was brave.
Fearless? No. She had fears, but she faced them with resolution and determination.
“You know why,” her smile was weak.
“Tell me,” he insisted, his eyes burning into hers.
She bit down on her lip. “The marriage to Syed is important to my people. The financial arrangement is one that will enable my parents to improve our infrastructure in vital ways.”
Ashad knew as much. The amount negotiated by Charlotte’s father was specific, and in addition to the financial settlement there were many agreements that would secure increased prosperity for the country of Falina.
“We have had a long period of civil war,” she said softly. “And war with Kalastan. Wars are expensive. Our people have suffered.” She shook her head slowly. “And our marriage – my marriage to Syed – will encourage a lasting sense of peace. Once we have children, they will become the first Falinese-Kalistani royalty. That matters.”
Jealousy fired inside him. “But to marry him for these reasons?”
“What do you want me to say?” She asked quietly. “What is the alternative?”
He ran his hand up and down her back, his eyes locked to hers. He wanted to ask her to marry him! The words thundered through his mind, begging to be released. But he couldn’t simply ask her! Not after Adin had been so insistent that the wedding go ahead.
The only way to free Charlotte, to free Syed, and to make it possible for her to accept his proposal, was to make it impossible for Syed and Charlotte to wed.
He stared down at her, his eyes seeing her soul and pain, her hopes and needs.
“What do you feel in here?” He brought his hand around to her chest and tapped lightly at her heart.
“Nothing.” She bit down on her lip and now there was a new air of determination on her face. “I feel nothing.” Her path was before her. She had known it for a long time. “I’d like to go back to the boat now, please.”
He shook his head. “You have choices here.”
“No, I don’t,” she whispered. “I have one choice.” She looked over her shoulder. The yacht was blocking out the sunshine and she shivered.
Ashad felt it ripple her flesh and it sent answering coldness through him.
“The thing is,” she spoke so softly he almost didn’t catch the words over the lapping of the waves. “I have disappointed my parents before. Enough times to know I don’t want to do that again.” She forced her eyes to meet his. “I am their only child. And I want them to be proud of me.”
“How can they not be?” He asked. “You are a wonderful person.”
She laughed, a short, sharp sound. “Please don’t do this. I know what’s expected of me, and yet, when I look at you…”
“Yes?” He kicked through the water, and turned around, spinning her, allowing her to feel the current and coolness.
“It’s ridiculous.” She compressed her lips. “Let’s go back.”
He nodded. “We will. But Charlotte?”
She bit down on her lip and he stared at the gesture, the soft flesh dragged between her white teeth.
“There is no escaping this. Whether you marry him or not, you will become my mistress.”