The Sultan's Virgin Bride: A story of lust, loyalty and passionate resentment. Read online

  “Happy,” she answered with a smile. “And relieved I did not trip, as I walked that long aisle.”

  Katherine’s eyes was watery. “You were perfect. So beautiful. I was very proud of you, my darling.”

  Eleanor put an arm around her mum’s waist. “You know, before I married Aki, I was a PhD student in International Law. That should make you more proud than the fact I married the Sultan of Talina.”

  “Of course.” Katherine squeezed her daughter’s waist affectionately and simultaneously rolled her blue eyes. “Honestly, you’re such a stickler for this feminist business.”

  “It’s not a ‘business’, mother, it’s an imperative on all women.”

  “And that fits in with you marrying a stranger how, exactly?”

  Eleanor’s smile was beatific. “Because I chose to marry him. Feminism is about choice. I was not forced to marry Aki. I was not paid to do so. And I am in no way uncomfortable with what lies ahead.”

  “Good. Because I think your husband has the potential to be a difficult man.”

  Eleanor put her head on her mother’s shoulder, and through the crush of people, she could make out Jak, and a rigid Michelle by his side. They were locked in conversation with a stuffy looking pair of men. In the midst of the celebrations, their group was sombre.

  “I would say that, of your two sons-in-law, my husband will prove the least difficult.”

  She felt Katherine stiffen beside her. “Yes. I think you are right.” Together they watched as Jak spoke with all the appearance of civility that they had, at one time, thought to be true.

  “Nothing good comes of marrying a man at twenty years of age,” Katherine muttered with a disapproving shake of her head.

  “Excuse me, Mrs Rami, would you care to dance?” Nasir seemed to have completely shelved his concerns about the authenticity of Eleanor’s marriage. His face was beaming with happiness and pride. As he led his wife towards the dance floor, Eleanor heard him say, “I never thought I would get to bring you home, my darling. To show you all the things about Talina that make it so special. This is the happiest night of my life.”

  And Eleanor’s heart soared. She had done it. Somehow, she had fixed a great sadness in her beloved father’s life. Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked fiercely. She didn’t want to be seen to be crying. She dipped her head forward and cut a path through the room easily. Amazingly, unlike most other weddings she’d been to, no one stopped the bride to speak to her. She was not just any bride though. She was royal, now. Queen of a powerful country.

  The palace was, as one would expect, enormous. Built on the back of the wealth of the silk traders, it sprawled for over an acre. White marble that glistened in the sun and glowed in the moonlight stretched four stories tall. And atop the walls were dozens of cupolas, some marble, some gold, some copper. Eleanor wasn’t sure she’d ever get to understand the layout of the palace completely, but becoming familiar with her new country was a task she was looking forward to. One of her attendants made to follow her but Eleanor shook her head. “I just need a moment, please.”

  “Madam, my duty is to accompany you…”

  “No,” she shook her head and smiled disarmingly. “I am in the palace. Security guards are everywhere. If you wait here, I’ll come back in ten minutes.”

  The attendant seemed to prevaricate, then finally nodded uncertainly.

  “Excellent. Thank you.”

  Ellie swished through the long, wide, deserted hallway. The artwork on the walls was stunning; impressionist masterpieces down one side, and ancient Talinese tapestries on the other.

  Her feet made no sound on the floor, as her flat shoes had a soft leather sole.

  Half way down the corridor, she took an arch to the left, and then another to the right. She knew she was in the private wing now, because she remembered the portraits on the walls. She slowed her speed, and then stopped completely, to look at the gold framed, life-sized painting of Aki’s grandfather Amos. The man who had exiled her father.

  He had died four years earlier. Long enough in the past to no longer feel animosity towards him; and yet she did. Hadn’t he realised that Nasir had no interest in pressing his right to the crown? Nasir was the last person in the world who would let ego and a need for power control him.

  She stepped closer to the painting. Amos had been a large man, in stature. Similar to Aki. The same dark eyes stared down at her now from beneath beetled brows. She shivered. These eyes, in this face, seemed capable of great cruelty. She moved away quickly. Somewhere along here was the room she’d used to get ready in hours earlier.

  She approached the door and then stopped walking. Voices drifted from across the hallway. Recognising Aki’s, she edged closer. It had not been her intention to eavesdrop. More of an instinctive curiosity. And had she not heard her name mentioned, she would have stepped away again swiftly. Craning against closed doors to catch whispered conversations was definitely not Eleanor’s style.

  “Eleanor is not a bride I would have chosen for myself, and you know it.”

  Was it possible for a heart to explode and yet for a person to remain breathing? She gulped and leaned a little closer.

  Ryan’s thick Australian accent was unmistakable. “You hardly know her.”

  “I know enough,” he muttered darkly.

  “Yeah? Like what?”

  She heard Aki’s heavy exhalation. “I know that she is motivated by a love of wealth and prestige. I know that she is dumb – for how blindly she walked into this union.”

  “You both walked blindly into this marriage.”

  Aki was obviously offended. “I do not walk blindly into anything, Ryan. I researched my bride. I researched her family. Not that I needed to. The Rami claim to the throne has made them well known to me. At none of our meetings did she so much as address me. Not a single question. How can I be married to someone so insipid? How can my country have such a weak-minded fool as its Queen?”

  The color had drained completely from Eleanor’s face. She had to lean against the wall for support.

  “I thought you said she’s some legal genius?”

  He snorted. “A PhD student. Probably attained on the weight of her father’s wealth and name alone. Academic achievements do not equate to real world intelligence..”

  Eleanor pressed a hand against her ribcage, to stop her heart from aching the way it was. It didn’t work.

  “So why did you marry her then? You had all the choices in the world at your feet. Why her?”

  “You know the answer to that,” Aki responded shortly. “The threat of those loyal to her family – to her father’s right to rule – would continue to undermine me as it did my grandfather. Without me taking this step, the country would be forever divided. Now? The two families that descended from the throne of our first desert King are one again. The issue is forever and finally put to rest.”

  There was silence, except for the sound of liquid being tipped into glass. She would have guessed he was a scotch man, but she didn’t know. Apparently she didn’t know anything about her husband at all.

  “Does she know that’s why you married her?”

  “Unless she’s even more stupid than I give her credit for, then I presume so.” Perhaps Ryan scowled at him, for Aki’s tone was verging on defensive when he spoke again. “If she had asked me why, I would have told her. If she’d said to me, ‘Why have you come to my home and put this suggestion forward’. But she didn’t.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  “That it made sense. And it does. But I vow to you, Ryan, I will hate every minute I am forced to pretend an interest in my bride.”

  “You married her for tactical reasons. I get it. So why did she marry you?”

  “Obviously to remove the shame from her father’s shoulders.”

  The sound of ice against the sides of glasses. Eleanor guessed that they were drinking. “That shows that she is of a loyal character, then.”

  “Self-serving, more like. A
nd yes, loyal too. Loyal to her father. Yet another person I must tolerate who carries an allegiance to a man who would never be King.”

  Ryan swore, and his colorful language was something that Eleanor approved of. In fact, she wished she could belt out a few choice phrases in that moment. “None of that is this woman’s fault.”

  “She is barely a woman,” he grunted. “A girl. An ignorant, foolish, American child-bride.”

  Eleanor felt like a part of her was dying.

  “She’s twenty four. A mere decade younger than you.”

  “But sheltered and spoiled all her life, she might as well be fourteen.”

  Ryan knew that when Aki had made a decision, he was generally intractable. He tried a different approach with his old friend. “At least she’s nice to look at.”

  Eleanor’s stomach was in knots.

  “Yes. She’s attractive, I suppose.”

  “Attractive, you suppose?” Ryan mimicked his words back to him. “She’s hot. Why would you even argue that point?”

  “I don’t know if I can find a woman desirable who is so averse to using her brain. A woman who’s willing to marry a stranger to placate her father. The idea of taking her to my bed is… arduous. She will no doubt be as unimaginative and bland as her lack of brain-power and spine leads me to believe.”

  Ryan’s laugh was filled with surprise. “You cannot start a marriage with such a low opinion of your wife.”

  “She deserves nothing else from me.” A sound of frustration. “We will have a marriage in the bedroom, because we must. But she will never be my equal. She will never be of interest to me. She is simply a pawn in a game of power. Controlling her by marriage is far easier than having her out there where I cannot keep even an eye on her activities.” He expelled a sigh of annoyance. “She is the daughter of a man I have always despised. Her very existence has been a thorn in my side since she was born, as her sister’s was before her. Without marrying her, she would have been a focus for anyone who wanted to create tension in my government.”

  “Even in America?”

  “Especially in America. Don’t you see? She was simply a faceless figurehead – a name that they could cling to. What if she married and had a son? What if I had no children? No. I had to control her bloodline, though it gives me no pleasure to contemplate the fact that my heir will also be of the Rami family. The very idea of pretending that I don’t loathe her is anathema to me.”

  Eleanor didn’t need to hear anymore. She couldn’t bear to. She walked quietly across the corridor and slipped inside the privacy of the room she’d used as a dressing room. All around her, there was chaotic mess, and it seemed to taunt her now. For it reminded her of her state of fevered excitement, in preparing to marry Aki. She’d practically ripped the dress from its bag; pulled her shoes out of the box, uncaring that she was strewing tissue paper across the floor. She sat down on the plush sofa and put her head in her hands.

  Eleanor doesn’t make mistakes. Michelle had said those very words in this very room only a little while earlier that very day. And she’d been very, very wrong. Eleanor might not have made mistakes often, but when she did, she did it good and proper.

  She’d just married a man who hated her. A man she desperately wanted, who didn’t want her at all.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The last of the servants was completing her preparations. Eleanor, not given to feminine beauty rituals, had spent the last two hours being primped and primed for her first night with Aki. Her hair had been washed and dried until it shone. They’d styled it so that it fell in loose curls half-way down her back. Her outfit was a traditional Talinese robe; cream in color, it fell from neck to ankle, and had violet beads stitched in an elaborate pattern down the middle. It was soft and comfortable, but it made her look a little like the fourteen year old he’d accused her of being. She jutted her chin out in a defiant angle.

  He had been wrong about that, and everything else too.

  Damned wrong.

  If he thought he’d married a vapid, shrinking violet, then she’d gladly show him otherwise.

  She stood impatiently, waiting for the black nail varnish that had been applied to her feet to dry. She’d already earned a gentle reproach from one of the more senior servants for having smudged her manicure. She didn’t dare repeat the mistake with her feet.

  But the knowledge that Aki was waiting for her was building like a dam of water in her chest, and tension and nerves were eating away at her. It was almost three o’clock in the morning, yet she was far from tired. Somewhere in the distance, the party was still in full swing. One of Aki’s cousins had informed her that it would turn into a breakfast when the sun came up. She had even smiled and winked, as she’d said, “And you and Aki will return, a truly married couple.”

  The inference had been clear. A truly married couple. Something she’d been so excited about at the start of the day now felt impossible to contemplate.

  How could she sleep with the man when she knew what he thought of her? She had married him, but his harsh words had forced her to remember that she was a strong and independent woman. She was not beholden to give him more of herself than she wished. He had made it clear that he benefitted from their union as much as she did. In marrying Eleanor he had brought together two families who had a claim to the throne, thereby settling any potential civil unrest. Permanently.

  She had already, then, given him enough.

  “Finished?” She asked, brought back to the present by the departure of all but one of her attendants.

  “Almost. Close your eyes and hold your breath, please.”

  Eleanor did as she said. The familiar sound of perfume being spritzed met her ears a moment before the delicate scent assailed her nostrils. It was gardenia and night-flowering jasmine; perfect for this desert Kingdom.

  “You are ready. I will advise His Highness’s staff.”

  “No,” she interrupted quickly. She softened the harsh word with a small smile. “I will go directly. I would like to surprise him.”

  “Oh… but…”

  “I know you have traditions, but I have ideas about how things will operate now.”

  The inference was clear. She was Emira, wife of the Sultan, and she intended to exercise her power from that moment forward. “Very well, madam.” The servant bowed low and exited the room immediately.

  Leaving Eleanor to her own devices. She moved quietly to the full-length mirror and paused, taking in her reflection. She still looked like herself. Confident. Happy. Normal. But inside, a part of her had hardened to steel when she’d heard herself being discussed in such a vulgar and disrespectful way. She summoned that metallic strength now and used it for courage. She would not allow the needs of her treacherous body to control her behaviour.

  Aki was just a man.

  A man who made her feel as none other ever had, but a man, nonetheless.

  She spun on her heel and crossed the thresh hold of her bedroom. Their marital suite was two doors away. She had been shown the room the day before, and given the option of updating the décor. Even of selecting which flowers would adorn the arrangements on this, their first night together. The memory taunted her now, for how optimistic and excited she’d been about beginning her marriage to this man.

  She didn’t knock. He deserved no such courtesy. Instead, she swept into the room as though it was her birth right. Which, she supposed, in some ways, it was.

  Aki was leaning against a wall, staring down at the palm tree lined garden beneath. She had the same view from her room, and she knew that the trees formed a perfect square; and in the middle there was grass so green it looked as though it had been cut from a golf course.

  He turned at her unexpected intrusion, and masked his features. But she’d seen it. Overhearing his conversation with Ryan had given her a key of sorts to his personality, and now she understood. That look she had taken to be brooding was actually one of cynical derision.

  “My bride,” he said with a defere
ntial seeming nod.

  Ryan was right. She was beautiful. No. That word was not sufficient. He’d known many beautiful women. He took the time to look at her properly now, for she was his wife, and he had every right to enjoy the sight of her.

  She bore a hint of her heritage in the honey hued tan of her skin, though if he hadn’t known her Talinese roots, he would have thought her to be as American as they came. When she smiled, as she had during their wedding ceremony, her cheeks creased into dimples that made her look young and innocent. Her eyes were almost feline in appearance; wide set and almond shaped. Her lips were generous and pouting; they were almost always set in an enigmatic smile. Except for that moment when they were pursed together.

  He let his gaze drift lower. The robes disguised most of her body, as they were designed to do. She had come to him as a gift, and the tradition dictated that she was his to open. But regardless of the boxy, flowing garment, he knew that beneath it was the figure of a goddess. Far more appealing to him than the slender proportions that were fashionable, Eleanor was short and shapely, in a way that made his fingers itch to grab hold of her.

  He cleared his throat, forcefully reminding himself that his wife was a woman who, besides physical appearance, held little interest for him. He held his hands out to her, but she stayed resolutely still, just inside the door of their room.

  It brought a small frown to his face. Surely she had understood? He meant for her to come to him. Instinctively, he crossed to her instead.

  When he put his hands out and touched her shoulders, she flinched. “Don’t.” It was quietly spoken, but unmistakably tense.

  “You are nervous.”

  “No,” she denied. “I am not nervous. Nor am I here to consummate our marriage.”

  It earned a small flicker of surprise from Aki. He had not expected his wallflower wife to be capable of such a firm statement. “I see,” he drawled.

  “I doubt it,” she snapped, stepping out of his arms. “I only came here tonight to define the parameters of our relationship.”

  “You did?” Inwardly, he grimaced. He was doing a damned good impersonation of stupidity himself, now.