Zoe coloured as if he had turned a spotlight on her and dropped her head. ‘Well, I don’t know what your expectations would be but I can assure you now that I wouldn’t want sex. I’m not into sex. It’s something I can live without, but you?’
That he couldn’t even look at her without thinking about sex was a truth Raj decided he needed to keep to himself. Overpowering curiosity assailed him at the same time. What had put her off sex? One bad experience? An assault? Those were not questions he could ask and he suppressed the urge to probe deeper even as he winced inwardly from the upfront immediate rejection she was handing him. She didn’t want sex with him. He had never met with that kind of rejection before and he pushed away that awareness, deeming it arrogant and ultimately unimportant in the greater scheme of events.
‘I can offer you the exact same marital agreement that persuaded you that you could marry my uncle,’ Raj broke in to insist with measured cool.
Zoe tossed her head back in surprise. Little tendrils of white-blonde hair were beginning to cling to her damp brow because she was feeling too warm even in the shade of the tent. Probably because even talking about sex set her cheeks on fire with self-consciousness, but she knew that she had to be frank with him. There was no other way and no room for any misunderstandings if she was candid from the outset. It shook her to acknowledge that she was seriously considering the marriage he was suggesting, for it was unlike her to take a risk. And Raj, her sixth sense warned, would be a risk.
‘Unfortunately, you’re not old enough to treat me like a daughter!’ she told him ruefully.
‘But I am old enough not to put pressure on a woman, who doesn’t want me, for sex,’ Raj retorted without hesitation. ‘I appreciate that you would have to take that guarantee on trust but it is the truth. I have never had to put that kind of pressure on a woman and I never will.’
‘OK,’ Zoe mumbled, feeling that they had done the topic of sex and not having it to death. ‘I admit that I would like to stay in Maraban and explore a little of my heritage.’
‘I could make that possible,’ Raj told her.
‘Where would we live?’
‘In the palace, which is, I must admit, a little dated,’ Raj acknowledged, choosing to understate the case because he himself considered his surroundings immaterial as long as the basics were in place.
His father, unhappily, had a great reverence for history and it had proved a major battle to persuade Tahir to allow even modern bathrooms and cooking facilities to be constructed in the ancient building. Guests were lodged in one of the very contemporary villas built within the palace compound to provide convenient accommodation for visitors while preserving his father’s privacy.
‘I could live with dated,’ Zoe muttered uneasily. ‘I’m really not very fussy. My sisters and I lived in some real dives before we met our grandfather a couple of years ago and he invited us to move into a property that he owns in London.’
‘The palace is not a dive,’ Raj murmured with reluctant amusement. ‘To sum up, you are prepared to consider my proposal?’
‘Thinking about it, wondering if I can trust you.’ That admission slid off the end of Zoe’s tongue before she could snatch it back and her face flamed with guilt.
‘I keep my word...always,’ Raj proclaimed with pride, dark eyes aglow with conviction. ‘You have nothing to fear from me. You would be doing me a very great favour. The last thing I would do is harm you. In fact, if you do this for me, I will protect you from anything and anyone who would seek to harm you.’
He was gorgeous, she thought helplessly, standing there so straight and tall and emotional, so very emotional. She had never met a man who teemed with so much emotion that he couldn’t hide it. She had never met a man she could read so clearly. Reluctant hope, growing excitement and the first seeds of satisfaction brimmed in his volatile gaze. She couldn’t take her eyes off his, could still hear the faint echo of his fervent promise to protect her from all threats.
‘We would still be able to get a divorce after a few months?’ Zoe checked anxiously.
‘Of course. We would not want to find ourselves stuck with each other for ever!’ Raj quipped with sudden amusement.
And for the very first time in a man’s presence, Zoe felt slighted by honesty. She scolded herself for being oversensitive. Naturally, he wouldn’t want to stay married for good to a woman he didn’t love and neither would she wish to stay with him, would she? He was simply voicing the facts of their agreement.
‘Then...’ Zoe rose to her feet, suddenly pale with the stress of the occasion and the big decision she was making for herself without consulting her sisters, who probably would’ve voiced very loud objections ‘...I will agree to marry you and I can only hope that it brings you the advantages that you believe it will.’
Raj took a sudden step forward and raised his arms and then let them fall again as he stepped back. ‘Forgive me, I almost touched you but I am sure you prefer not to be touched.’
‘I do.’ But Zoe was lying. He had been about to sweep her up in his arms and hug her and she was disappointed that he had recalled her rules and gone back into retreat. He was passionate, a little impulsive, she suspected, the sort of guy who occasionally in the grip of strong feeling would act first, think later. She would have liked the hug, the physical non-sexual contact, the very warmth and reassurance of it, but it was better that he respected her boundaries, she told herself urgently. ‘So when will this marriage take place?’
‘Today.’
‘Today?’ she exclaimed in soaring disbelief.
‘My father does not trust me enough to allow me to return to the palace without immediate proof that I have changed my ways,’ Raj told her grimly. ‘This marriage will provide that proof. He brought the palace imam here with him.’
‘We’re getting married here...now?’ she prompted incredulously. ‘What on earth am I going to wear?’
‘My father leaves nothing to chance. I would suspect that his wife has brought appropriate clothing for you.’
‘Which wife?’ she prompted curiously.
‘He only has one wife still living. My mother died when I was nine and her predecessor died about ten years ago. The Queen, his first wife, is called Ayshah,’ Raj proffered. ‘She is pleasant enough.’
Zoe breathed in deep and slow. She was going to marry Raj and make a go of her life all on her own. She would stay in Maraban for several months and there would be no more panic attacks. She would pick up some of the language, learn the history and find out about her grandmother’s culture. It would be an adventure, a glorious adventure, she told herself firmly while watching Raj stand by the doorway, quite unconscious of her appraisal. He smiled with sudden brilliance. And gorgeous wasn’t quite a strong enough word for him at that moment...
‘MY FATHER TELLS me that the King is arranging a state wedding to take place in two weeks’ time and for that you can wear a Western wedding gown,’ Farida informed Zoe in a discreet whisper. ‘The King wants to make the most of your entry into the family.’
Apprehensive enough about the wedding about to take place, Zoe could have done without the news that there was to be a second, which would be a public spectacle. Such an event lay so far outside her comfort zone that even thinking about it made her feel dizzy. But she squashed that sensation. Baby steps, she told herself soothingly. She would cope by dealing with one thing at a time, and fretting about the future would only wind her up. Right at that moment it was sufficient to accept that she was about to legally marry a man she had only met for the first time that day.
Marrying