Bought by The Sheikh Page 9

  Zayn felt his whole world grind to a slow stop as he tried to think of a way to answer her question. She had placed her trust in him innocently and blindly, and he felt a sudden certainty that he had damaged it beyond repair. “I can tell you something very important right now.”

  She lifted her gaze to his hopefully. “Oh?”

  He lowered his mouth and claimed hers, kissing her until her heart was hammering so hard against her breast that he could feel it. “I love you.”

  Julia felt a strange, unbalanced sensation tip her system. It was a statement that he must have made a million times. They were married, after all. But she couldn’t recall his having said it in the week since her accident, and for some reason, the words were very precious to her. She clutched them to her heart and buried them deep in her brain, hopefully immune from the ravages of her memory loss.

  All doubt evaporated from her mind. “I love you, too,” she said honestly. “It’s funny how I just know that. I’ve forgotten so much else, but I know for sure that I do love you.” And at that exact moment in time, she knew it with all of her heart. There was no room for doubt, nor uncertainty. He was her other half, and she didn’t care if she never remembered ‘their story’, just as long as she had him.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Have I ever seen this before?” She asked on a sigh of total awe-struck disbelief.

  Zayn gave her a side long glance. “No. We have not been to the palace.”

  Julia stood back from the car and tried to appreciate the sheer size of the royal residence. From this angle, it seemed to loom large out of the earth. It was completely circular in design, with lattice like windows carved into the marble to create the most fragile and beautiful effect Julia had ever seen.

  “Aren’t palaces supposed to be terrifying?”

  Zayn’s smile was unmistakably proud. “This was a palace built to show the cultural strength of the nation, rather than the military might of its army. Naman has a rich culture, and our architects and builders from the seventeenth century were renowned for their innovation and skill. This palace was the piece de resistance of the movement.”

  “It’s stunning,” she said honestly. Around the base of the building, palm trees had been planted and they stood tall and immovable, like sentinels in the sand. A solitary flag was flying from the very center of the palace roof.

  “I’m glad you approve.” If he freed Amal from the responsibilities of ruling, it would, after all, be their home. He caught her hand in his and squeezed it. “Come, I will show you inside.”

  Julia nodded, feeling more than a little intimidated by the sheer size and opulence of the palace grounds. In contrast to the bustling city that their home overlooked, this was a place of serenity and calm. In the middle of the desert, green lawns sprawled into the distance, and exotic looking flowers were bursting into colorful life. A warm breeze rustled past, carrying with it the scent of something sweet, like jasmine or magnolias. Julia’s dark hair caressed her cheek and she hooked it behind her ear. When she lifted her eyes, Zayn was watching her, and though his expression was guarded, there was something in his eyes that made her pulse scatter uncontrollably. She turned her attention back to the palace, trying not to show how easily he could disconcert her.

  “I thought today was about helping me remember things, anyway,” she said a few minutes later, as they made their way beneath a tall arch in the side of the building.

  The frown that crossed his face disappeared again so quickly that she thought she must have imagined it. He fixed a small grin onto his features instead and shrugged, in that sexy, nonchalant way of his. “You don’t know what will bring your memories back, habibte. The doctors are happy with your progress. You heard them. It is very unlikely your brain will be permanently damaged.”

  As he spoke the words, he felt an invisible steel band tightening around his chest. This idyllic time as husband and wife was the eye of an enormous storm. One that would certainly wreak havoc when it returned.

  His Julia. He had never stopped thinking of her as his, and this week, she had been. But it was a house of cards, and the winds were brewing steadily, gusting and ready to blow it all apart around him.

  “They said they couldn’t make guarantees.” Her voice quavered a little, and Zayn stopped walking, so that he could turn to face her. Julia paused beside him and looked up uncertainly into his handsome face.

  Zayn lifted a hand and brushed his fingers along the downy skin of her cheek. How he wished things were different. That this bond could remain. “If you don’t remember, we’ll make new memories,” he promised. His eyes shone with intention, and silently, he willed her to trust him.

  Julia swallowed down the strange sense of confusion that assailed her. For the last two days, she’d had the weirdest intuition that she was angry with her husband. And yet, she wasn’t. He was the perfect lover and companion, and she knew she felt only love and affection for him. So why was there this weird bubbling mistrust inside of her? Like the shadow of a memory, it haunted her, and colored everything he said now.

  Her smile was shaky. “We’ll see.”

  Zayn didn’t like her non-committal response, but he pushed it aside. He had spent his entire life controlling, dominating and directing. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose something as intrinsic to one’s being as knowledge and memory.

  “I just wish I could remember how this happened,” she said with a small grimace. “You and me… it’s all blank.”

  He nodded slowly. How could she know the memories she sought simply weren’t there?

  “I mean, we must have dated for some time before getting married?”

  His brow knitted together. “Why do you say that?”

  “Just a guess, I suppose. Why? Are you saying we didn’t date for long?”

  He angled his face away from her, staring down the long corridor in which they stood. “It’s pointless for me to tell you, Julia. You know what the doctor said.”

  “Did we email back and forth, like we used to?”

  His frown was gone almost as soon as it had appeared. “You remember that we used to email?”

  “Of course.” Her smile was wry. “I remember sitting through Intro to Law drafting emails that I hoped would be funny enough to make you laugh. So why don’t I remember anything more recent?”

  He sighed with exasperation. “Be patient, habibte. It will come back to you when it is supposed to.”

  She gnawed on her lip dubiously. Again, the feeling that her husband was keeping something from her fogged into her brain and she wished she could pinpoint exactly what was making her doubt him.

  “I want to show you my favorite part of the palace,” Zayn whispered into her ear, and his smile was so full of seductive charm that she grinned back at him, despite it being a clunky attempt to derail her investigations.

  “I’d love to see,” she responded honestly, shelving her strange intuitive sense that something was amiss. For now.

  Zayn put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his firm body. She fit so perfectly in the crook of his arm, beneath his shoulder. As they walked, Julia was surprised by how deserted the palace was. She said as much to Zayn and he agreed.

  “My parents are overseas, on a tour of Asia. Father’s role is mostly ceremonial now, leaving much of the day to day running of the government to Amal.”

  Again, that blurry cloud hovered on her mind. “Why doesn’t he want to rule?”

  Zayn titled his head to her. There were many reasons. He chose the one least likely to remind her of previous conversations with Adina. “He has never liked power. He has never liked making decisions.” Zayn let out a breath of frustration. “My brother is a great man. A kind man. But he is soft-hearted and soft-stepping. Naman has always respected Kings who were made of iron.”

  “A gentle King is not bad,” Julia said thoughtfully. “If he is smart and makes well-informed decisions…”

  Zayn nodded. “Perhaps. At the end of the d
ay, he simply doesn’t want the job. It is the one thing he has been told from birth he must do, and he has grown up believing it to be an albatross about his neck. He simply wants to travel with Adina, and write his precious poetry.”

  “He’s a poet?” She scrunched up her nose in amusement. “You’re so different to one another.”

  “You don’t think I’m poetic?” He teased gently, kissing her on the top of her nose.

  Julia blushed. “I think you’re a man who could inspire poetry.”

  He laughed. “You are flattering me, Sheikha. For what purpose?”

  It was Julia’s turn to giggle. “It’s true! When I first saw you, I’m sure a thousand sonnets ran through my mind.”

  He slowed his steps and once more turned to look at her. “For me, too.” It was true. He just hoped she would remember how strong their connection had always been when she finally pieced the truth of their marriage back together.

  He laced his fingers through hers and lifted her hands out to the side. “You know, I’m suddenly impatient to take you home again.”

  Julia’s tongue darted out and moistened her dry lips. Since that first night they’d been together, she had become a keen student in the ways of passion, and her tutor was exquisitely talented. But the certainty that something was amiss was growing stronger.

  “That would be a waste of a trip,” she said in what she hoped was a mock-stern voice.

  “Indeed.” He pressed a kiss against her forehead and then reluctantly released her. “This way, my wife.”

  Together, they emerged from the cavernous corridor that went beneath the palace into a hill-side orchard. Lines and lines of shrub-like trees ran away from the palace, to the desert sands beyond the castle walls. Julia walked towards the closest tree and inspected the strange, bobbled fruits that were weighing the branches down with their abundance.

  “What are they?”

  “Quince. A true national icon. And further down, pomegranate.” He leaned forward and plucked a quince from the tree and handed it to her. Its flesh was warm from the beating morning sun, and it felt lovely in her hands.

  “What does it taste like?” She lifted it to her nose to smell it, but there was no fragrance.

  “Don’t eat it,” he warned quickly. “They’re terribly astringent raw. But cooked slowly, they are very good. I will have our chef prepare some for you.”

  Slowly, they meandered down one of the rows of trees. “When Amal and I were young, we used to spend hours out here, hiding from our governess.”

  “You had a governess?” She pulled a face. “Sorry, I guess I already know that.”

  “You’re frustrated,” he guessed accurately.

  She nodded. “I hate that I feel like I hardly know you, when I must know you intimately. I find I don’t remember even the simplest details about you, and it’s infuriating. I mean, I know you, and instinctively, I do remember. But there are so many blanks. I feel like I’m running blind.”

  “You have me to be your eyes,” he said, pulling her back into the crook of his arm, where she would always belong.

  Julia couldn’t tell him that that was exactly what she was afraid of. What if her gut was right, and there was something vitally important about this man that she couldn’t remember? Something he had done that she didn’t approve of?

  She groaned in annoyance. Patience had never been her forte, and she struggled now to simply ‘wait’ for the information to come back to her. Julia needed a proactive plan to jog her memory, and one was beginning to form. She let her mind tick over what she could do to uncover the truth for herself and tried to act completely natural.

  “Your governess. Tell me stuff. Pretend I don’t already know.”

  It was not difficult. After all, there was so much they hadn’t yet learned about one another. “It was only when we were young, and then in between school terms. Our father was adamant that we would both learn about governance.”

  “Almost as though he knew Amal wouldn’t want the job?” She pondered.

  He nodded slowly. “Perhaps. Or perhaps just planning for the contingency that one of us might not make it.”

  Julia’s jaw dropped, and fear clambered at her heart. “That’s a horrible thing to say.”

  His smile was grim. “The lineage of the royal family cannot be left to chance. We are one of the longest running monarchies in the world. It is a point of pride for my family that the bloodline continues.”

  Julia stopped walking instantly. As though her feet were stuck in cement. She lifted her eyes to his. “A baby.” She shut her eyes, trying to focus. “There’s something about a baby.”

  Zayn waited, barely breathing. Slowly, it was coming back to her. He knew he didn’t have long before their battle lines would be redrawn. “Do you remember something?” He said in as bland a tone as he could muster.

  Julia opened her eyes and pierced his soul with the intensity of her stare. “I don’t know. It’s right there. I just can’t grip it.”

  “Stop forcing it,” he said honestly. “It’s a good sign that you feel so close to remembering details. They’ll come back soon.”

  Zayn led her down another valley of trees, this one had the sweet fragrance of honey and Julia breathed it in with wonderment.

  “It must have been a beautiful place to grow up,” she observed as a flock of brightly colored birds flew overhead.

  “For the most part.” He plucked a blossom from one of the trees and held it out to her. Julia inhaled its intoxicating scent and smiled. It was like summer in a tiny pale bud. “And your childhood?” He prompted.

  “My childhood was idyllic.” She slid him a sidelong glance. “But I’m sure you already know that. Your memory isn’t the one that’s got big spongy holes in the dark matter.”

  He nodded. “But I like to hear your stories. I’ll never tire of it. Talk to me, and your thoughts might come back.”

  “Well, most of my childhood was spent scampering down country lanes with Georgie. I was fortunate. Most people like me end up in public boarding schools, but dad was adamant that I stay at home. He sent me to the local comprehensive and made sure he picked me up every single day.” She looked at him thoughtfully. “He was a very attentive father. I think losing mum so suddenly made him realize that the life is capable of sudden change and deprivation in the blink of an eye. He’s never taken anything for granted. I truly felt adored and appreciated every day of my life.”

  “He did a good job, then,” Zayn said admiringly, and not for the first time, a sharp stab of something like guilt tried to make itself known. But Zayn didn’t want to feel it,, and he resolutely prompted Julia to continue. “And high school?”

  “As you know,” she drawled quietly, “I went to boarding school for high school.”

  “Why the change?” Zayn asked.

  The faintest blush stole into her cheeks. “My headmistress insisted to dad that I was academically gifted. She said it would be neglectful of him not to pursue the best education available to me.”

  “And what did you think?”

  Julia threw him a casual smile over her shoulder, once again bringing the flower bud to her nose. “I was almost a teenager by then. The unstinting paternal affection was wearing thin, in the face of such temptations as nail polish and boys and fashion magazines and scary movies.”

  He raised his eyebrows knowingly. “You wanted to spread your wings.”

  “Yes. And it was at boarding school that I met Georgie. She was in my dorm, and we were as thick as thieves from the first day.” Julia frowned. “You know Georgie?”

  “Yes. I’ve met her twice,” he said, unable to keep the disapproval from his voice.

  Julia was becoming an expert at reading Zayn’s responses, and now, she was puzzled. “Do you and she not get on?” Her frown deepened. She found it hard to believe she could have married someone who didn’t like Georgie.

  “I don’t know her well enough to say. I know she values you a great deal, which makes me think
well of her.”

  Julia tried to quell the strange sense of butterflies flapping in her stomach. “She is like a sister to me. And through her, I met Andrew, who is like a brother.”

  With great effort, Zayn kept his stride equal. “Nothing more than a friend, ever?”

  If she was ever going to be honest with him, surely it would be now, when her mind couldn’t easily keep track of the lies she’d told him in the past.

  “Andrew?” She poked out her tongue. “No. Never.”

  Fury and frustration weighed heavily on his chest at her continued deceit. He tried a different approach. “I would be jealous, of course, as I hate to think of you ever having cared for another man. But we are married, now, Julia. Your past is in the past.”

  The look she gave him was so obviously filled with confusion that he shook his head. Perhaps that night with Andrew had fallen through the cracks of her memory, too, for some reason. After all, he had incontrovertible proof that they had been together. Obviously not sexually, given his recent discovery that his wife had, in fact, been a virgin until very recently. But virginity didn’t mean she hadn’t been intimate with a man. There were many things a couple could do in bed together. The photographs were evidence they had been something more than the innocent friends she now claimed.

  He gritted his teeth as he thought of the spoilt brat who had taken Julia away from him, four years ago. He’d had an investigator look into Andrew at the time, and what he’d learned had confirmed his worst suspicions. He was a time wasting, entitled snob, who’d been born to a super-wealthy family, and been raised for a life of idleness. He also had a pretty impressive drug addiction, or he had back then.

  “Why do you think Andrew and I had a thing?” She asked perceptively. “He has always been a good friend to me, but nothing more.”

  Zayn thought about the last time they’d seen the boy, at her father’s house. He hadn’t imagined the lingering looks at Julia, the way he sought out opportunities to touch her. “Perhaps I’m imagining things,” Zayn placated. There was, after all, no sense ruining what little time they had together before her memory returned with arguments that could certainly wait. That were waiting for him, even now, fraying at the edges of this mock paradise.