He frowned. “You are to be my wife,” he said, as if that explained everything. “My grandmother left me her jewels with the understanding I would pass them on.” His gaze softened with an understanding that stunned her, he said, “No woman has seen these since her death, Cleo. They are only for you.”
She swallowed against a sudden tightness in her throat. She wouldn’t have thought he was sensitive enough to realize she was worried that Kamra, too, had adorned herself with the stunning set.
“Thank you,” she whispered, overcome more by his thoughtfulness than the gift itself.
He smiled, then bent low and kissed her. His mouth was soft yet demanded that she yield to him. Had she been able to speak, Cleo would have pointed out that she had no plans to resist. Not when it felt so completely right to put her arms around him and feel his body close to hers.
When he parted his mouth, she did the same. He slipped inside her mouth, his tongue gently stroking hers. Shivers of delight rippled through her. Passion flared. They had only made love once since she arrived, and she found herself quickly warming to the idea.
But instead of taking things to the next level, Sadik broke the kiss and sighed. “I think we should wait until later,” he said, sounding regretful. “Although you continue to tempt me.”
Cleo accepted his decision. Her response surprised her. Had Sadik continued kissing her and maybe started touching her, she wouldn’t have refused him. Even now the wanting seemed to grow inside of her. She knew it was because she loved him. But would her love save her or be her downfall?
“There is more,” he said, returning his attention to the box. “As my wife, there will be many beautiful jewels for you to wear. But this one is very special. It was a gift from Queen Elizabeth, the first one, to the queen of Bahania.”
As he spoke he drew a delicate and beautiful tiara out of the a velvet bag. Despite the age, the workmanship was exquisite. The white gold encircled the diamonds in a series of circles. Large, pale pearls hung down, swaying as Sadik handed it to her.
Cleo couldn’t believe it. She had joked with Zara about getting a cast-off tiara or two. The elegant head-piece truly symbolized being a princess. She couldn’t believe that Sadik had simply handed her one, especially not one with such an amazing history.
“Is it really that old?” she asked. “Is it safe to touch it?”
“Yes to both. Sabrina is the expert in antique jewelry. Actually the tiara disappeared for a time, taken by someone in the City of Thieves. It was only recently recovered. When I heard of it, I thought you would enjoy having it for your own. Will you wear it today?”
She nodded, because it was impossible to speak. Sadik was showing her a sensitive side she wouldn’t have believed existed. Maybe this marriage did have a chance.
“There are those who say a bride is not to wear pearls on her wedding day,” he said. “That her new husband will make her cry once for each pearl.” He touched the lustrous orbs. “There are nine pearls in the tiara. May I only disappoint you nine times in our long life together.”
Tears filled her eyes. He didn’t say anything. Instead he held her close and for now, that was enough.
The wedding took place in the small chapel in the palace. There was seating for perhaps a hundred, but less than twenty sat in the ancient pews. Cleo paused at the back of the church, more nervous than she would have thought.
Sadik stood waiting at the end of the long center aisle. Candles flickered. There were no windows in the chapel, no stained-glass saints to offer benediction. No visiting dignitaries, no murmuring crowd. She stared at the man she would marry, then started forward when the organ music changed to the wedding march. She walked alone.
King Hassan would have escorted her, had she asked. He didn’t come out and say so, but she knew it to be true. Cleo preferred to go to Sadik on her own. She wanted to remind herself that she was doing this of her own free will. She would not be dragged to the altar.
Her cascade of roses and starburst lilies shook slightly in her hands. Her taffeta dress rustled with each movement. She’d chosen the low-cut empire style from several gowns that had been sent over. The simple lines hid her growing belly. She wore the amazing and unexpected engagement ring Sadik had given her that morning on her right hand. They had picked out simple gold bands for wedding rings. After the ceremony she would switch the engagement ring back to her left hand. Then they would go to the reception.
Cleo didn’t actually mind that the reception would be small. There would be a dinner for those who attended. No crowd of several thousand, no orchestra, no endless pile of official gifts. Her wedding couldn’t be more different from Zara’s, but then, neither could her marriage.
Cleo was determined to make the best of it, for herself and for the baby. A life of unhappiness would surely hurt their child.
So she walked slowly toward the front of the church, prepared to marry a man who would not love her. His tenderness today gave her a small amount of hope. If only she could figure out a way to follow Sabrina’s very sensible advice. But Cleo didn’t have a clue as to how to bring a man like Sadik to his senses, let alone to his knees.
Chapter Ten
P leading exhaustion, Cleo escaped from the party shortly after dinner. She couldn’t help contrasting her small, quickly arranged reception with Zara’s gala affair. Of course she had no one to blame but herself for the different circumstances. Zara had been smart enough to fall in love with someone who loved her. And she’d been smart enough not to get pregnant. Cleo tried to make a joke by telling herself she would do it better next time—except she knew there wouldn’t be a next time. No matter what his feelings were for her, or hers for him, she and Sadik were married, and it was going to be a union for life. She would not give up her children, and he would not want the scandal of divorce.
She paused in the hallway, unsure which way to turn. Then she remembered one of the servants telling her that her things would be moved into Sadik’s suite during the ceremony. She doubted that anyone would have unpacked her boxes from Spokane and wondered what Sadik would say when he saw her rather tattered teddy bear collection. It was not likely to go with his designer-perfect interior.
Cleo made a left at the next hallway, then stopped in front of Sadik’s door. Her door now, she reminded herself. Her world. Her life.
She stepped inside and closed the door behind her. She’d seen the living room of his suite at least a dozen times and yet it looked unfamiliar. She took in the dark furniture, the original paintings on the wall, the view that was similar to the one from her room. She knew that this suite was laid out differently, with three bedrooms instead of two. The master suite was larger, with two smaller bedrooms on the opposite side of the living room.
Cleo crossed in that direction. The bedroom on the left contained a home office setup. The lack of papers on the desk, along with the dust cover on the computer, told her that Sadik didn’t do work in here. As his actual office was less than a five-minute walk away, it made sense that he would go there when he needed to get things done.
The second bedroom had been tucked in a corner of the palace with views of both the ocean and the gardens. A good-size alcove jutted out toward the lush foliage below. A double closet held adjustable racks.
The space was completely empty, the walls bare. Cleo wasn’t sure she’d ever been in this room before, but she knew it had been emptied for the baby. She placed her hand on her stomach as she turned slowly, taking in the views and the space. It was easy to picture a crib against the far wall and a changing table between the windows. Later, when their child was older, toys could be stored in the alcove. Eventually, when there were other children—she didn’t doubt that Sadik wanted many—they would have to move to one of the family suites. But for now this would be home.
Cleo crossed to the wall and touched the smooth surface. What color would be best? A pale yellow, perhaps.