The bride and groom started down the aisle. Cleo went next, expecting to link arms with Kardal, but he had shifted positions with Sadik, and she found herself close to the one man who could—despite everything—still take her breath away.
“You are radiance itself,” he murmured as they strolled down the aisle. He nodded at several guests. No doubt rulers of distant lands and personal friends of the family.
“Thank you.”
As they had on the way up, the crowd continued to overwhelm her. This was for real, she thought, stunned and amazed. Her foster sister, the same person she’d fought with about bathroom time and who had once tried to pierce her ears with a sewing needle was an honest-to-goodness princess married to a sheik.
Even more shattering she, Cleo, was walking down the aisle of an eight-hundred-year-old church, next to a prince who could trace his bloodline back a thousand years. Oh, and she was pregnant by him.
Her head spun when they stepped outside and she saw that thousands had gathered around the church. In a special area set up to the left of the church, several dozen television crews reported on the event for the international news. Still cameras flashed, taking pictures everywhere.
The horse-drawn carriages stood waiting. After Rafe and Zara moved off in theirs, Sadik helped her into the next one. Thank goodness Kardal and Sabrina sat with them. Cleo didn’t think she was capable of forming words let alone dealing with Sadik right now.
“You look shell-shocked,” Sabrina said kindly as their carriage started forward. “I’m not surprised. This is a little overwhelming for me and I’ve been through it before.”
Cleo nodded, afraid that if she tried to speak she would either scream or cry. Neither would be especially helpful.
They returned to the palace. Pictures were taken, then the royal family joined the reception already in progress.
The largest palace ballroom had been transformed into fairyland, Cleo thought, still dazed. Thousands of yards of beaded tulle decorated the walls and pillars. Lights twinkled beside a cascading waterfall that hadn’t been there just a few days before. Buffets had been set up against three walls, and there seemed to be enough food to take care of several nations at once. A large orchestra played continuously. Champagne fountains flowed at both ends of the head table where Cleo found she had been seated next to Sadik. His doing, no doubt.
She managed to go through the motions, toasting her sister, offering best wishes, meeting people. Sadik stayed at her side for much of the afternoon. When Rafe and Zara disappeared to change for their honeymoon, he swept her into his arms and danced with her.
“I think they will enjoy their time away,” he said, speaking quietly into her ear.
“Yes. They will.” Her mouth felt numb. She knew she was talking, but she couldn’t feel her lips moving.
The king had arranged for the newlyweds to spend several weeks on his private yacht. They would cruise through the Mediterranean, then up the coast of Spain to France and England.
Her gaze swept over the room and something inside of her snapped. This wasn’t her world; she didn’t belong here. Nothing about the situation felt right.
But even as she prepared to run, she felt a fluttering sensation in her belly. Her baby turned or kicked, or maybe just waved. It was enough to remind her that there was more at stake than her own desire to belong. If she left, she would have to abandon her child, and Cleo was willing to walk through hell before ever doing that.
Yet compromise seemed hopeless. How were she and Sadik supposed to come to terms? Obviously, she would have to live in Bahania, but how? She refused to be supported, assuming that was what he had in mind. Yet who was going to give the former mistress of a royal prince any kind of job?
Sadik watched the light fade from Cleo’s blue eyes. She had begun the morning bursting with happiness for her sister, but somehow over the past few hours it had slowly disappeared until she looked wounded.
He did not like to think of her so, and tried to shake off the image. Still, there was no energy in her speech, and she only picked at her food.
Rafe and Zara waved to their guests and ducked out the far door. Sadik took advantage of the distraction and quickly ushered Cleo toward a side exit that led to the private wing of the palace.
“Where are we going?” she demanded, showing spirit for the first time that afternoon.
“I think we have things to discuss.”
“Oh, sure. Now you want to talk. Isn’t that just like a man. Before, when I had things to say, you weren’t interested. You were all caught up in finding out about the baby. Well maybe I don’t want to talk to you.”
Sadik ignored her outburst, just as he ignored the way she tugged on his hand as if trying to escape.
“There is no point,” he said calmly, continuing to lead the way. “I have no plans to release you.”
“That’s my big fear.”
When they reached the double doors leading into his private quarters, he slowed to study her. Cleo stared at the doors as if they led to a prison.
He smiled. “I promise I will not have you tortured once you step inside.”
“It’s not the torture I’m afraid of.”
Was she remembering, as he was, what had happened the last time they had been in these rooms together? Passion had exploded between them until they’d had no choice but to give in. They’d made love endlessly, every chance they had, clinging to each other, touching, taking, offering. He’d never known such desire.
He opened the door, then stepped back to allow her to go first. Cleo entered cautiously, glancing around as if checking to see all was as she remembered.
“Nothing has changed,” he told her.
“If you’re talking about the furniture, I guess you’re right. If you mean everything else, you couldn’t be more wrong.”
She crossed the large living room to the French doors that led to the common balcony. From there it was a relatively short walk back to her own suite. But she didn’t try to escape. Instead she simply pressed her fingers against the glass.
“This is how birds must feel,” she said quietly. “They can see to the other side, but something invisible prevents them from flying away.”
He frowned. “Of what do you speak?”
She sighed. “Nothing. Everything. The wedding went very well.”
The change of topic confused him. “I’m sure Zara and Rafe will be very happy.”
She nodded but didn’t say more. Drawn by a certainty that something was very wrong, he crossed to stand behind her. “What troubles you?”
She shook her head. He saw a single tear slide down her cheek.
Had she defied him, he could have fought her on equal terms and been confident in his victory. But fragility baffled him—especially in Cleo. She was the most tempting woman he’d ever met, and while her beauty kept him enthralled, he found her willingness to fearlessly clash with him one of her most intriguing features.
“What pains you so?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“I am an intelligent, successful man who knows much of the world. I am sure I could follow along.”
She looked at him. Tears glittered in her large, blue eyes. She swallowed. “All those months, you never tried to get in touch with me. I doubt you even thought of me. Then the second you found out I’m pregnant, you suddenly act as if you own me. I’m