particularly want to talk about it. Especially not now at such a significant moment. Look, here are my advisers and staff come out to greet us. Prepare yourself, Ella, for I am sure you know how important first impressions are.’
Hearing the finality in his voice as he halted the discussion about his childhood, Ella straightened her golden veil with trembling fingers. She certainly remembered her first impression of him. How his dark and proudly arrogant beauty had seemed to call out to something deep inside her. How for one blissful night she thought she’d found it, only to have it swept away by his callous desertion of her. Had that been just an illusion? she wondered. And had she been guilty of imagining a special bond where none existed, as a way of justifying her own wanton behaviour?
The powerful car drew to a halt and her memories melted away in the presence of a practical dilemma. Because how on earth did you prepare yourself to face people as their brand-new queen?
‘Do they know I’m pregnant?’ she asked.
At this he gave an odd kind of smile. ‘Of course not, though it is fairly obvious to all but the most careless observer. But you need not concern yourself with that, Ella. Don’t you know what they say about royalty? Never complain and never explain. There will be no need for any kind of announcement. Many of my people will not realise the good news until a child is presented to them, for you will largely be hidden from view.’
Hidden from view?
What the hell did that mean?
His words sent feelings of alarm skittering over her skin but there wasn’t time to demand further explanation because the door to the car was being opened and a warm blast of fragrant air hit her. Ella exited the car as gracefully as she could—not an easy move, given that her beautiful gown was so jewel-encrusted that it weighed a ton.
Slowly, she walked along two lines of assembled people, where the advisers were exclusively male and wore subdued versions of Hassan’s robes. The only women present were servants and they lowered their eyes deferentially as she walked along the line, shyly uttering the Kashamak greeting she’d been practising for days.
There was so much to take in. High ceilings and marble floors, the glimmer of gold and the glitter of crystal. Was this how her sister Allegra had felt when she’d first arrived in Alex’s royal palace? Blown away by the sense of history and tradition? And the wealth, of course. Only this was the real thing. Not the kind she’d known when she was growing up, when one minute they’d all be driving around in a gold limousine and the next hiding from the bailiffs.
This was rock-solid wealth. Enduring and sustaining. Money like this could totally influence your thinking and behaviour. And yet, this was their child’s heritage, she realised. All this splendour and beauty was his or hers by birth—and she did not have the right to deny their baby that.
‘Clearly you approve?’ Hassan had watched with interest the movement of her ice-blue eyes as they quickly assessed her surroundings. Was she silently adding up his worth and realising that never again would she want for money?
‘It’s beautiful,’ she breathed. ‘Absolutely beautiful.’
Briefly, he found himself wondering whether he should have taken his lawyer’s advice and made her sign a prenuptial agreement. But something about that action had made him baulk. It had seemed inherently wrong to ask that of the mother of his child. No matter how outrageous her demands for any divorce settlement, he could easily afford it. And a woman who was satisfied with her pay-out would be less likely to cause trouble in the future….
‘So … you must be tired after the long journey,’ he said. ‘Would you like to see your quarters?’
‘My … quarters?’ Ella’s smile was uncertain. ‘Um, you’ve left the army now, Hassan.’
‘Forgive me.’ His answering smile concealed a faint confusion, an unknown feeling of being out of his depth. Who cared what he called it, the detail was surely insignificant? Usually, he would have gone straight off to long meetings with aides and ministers, followed by a hard ride on one of his horses. But now the comforting familiarity of his routine had been broken by a woman with rose-pink lips and ice-blue eyes.
His wife.
If it was anyone else, he would have assigned a servant to show her around. But because it was Ella and she was pregnant and therefore vulnerable, he found himself in the unheard-of position of being her guide. And for the first time in his life, he felt out of his depth. ‘I will show you to your suite of rooms. Does that sound better?’
‘My suite?’ She looked at him in surprise. For weeks, she’d been psyching herself up for married life. She’d vacillated between wondering if she was crazy to go through with it, or whether it was the only sane choice. But once she’d decided to marry Hassan, one comforting thought had remained to sustain her. At least sex with her new husband was guaranteed to be amazing. He’d shown her that she could experience pleasure in his arms, and the truth was that she couldn’t wait to sample it again. She edged him a tentative smile. ‘But surely we’ll be sharing a suite, as a married couple?’
Hassan shook his head, wiping out the tempting thoughts provoked by the soft curve of her lips. ‘It is not the tradition, no, not here. It dates back from the days when a monarch always had to be ready to go to war and did not want to disturb his wife if he left for battle in the middle of the night. So his isolation was a necessity, rather than a luxury.’
Ella’s heart missed a beat. ‘You’re joking?’
‘No, I am not. I am simply abiding by tradition, as well as giving you the opportunity to have some private space of your own.’ He saw the way her blue eyes had clouded, but for the hundredth time, he told himself it was better this way. Better for both of them. For a divorce would be far simpler if there had been no intimacy. His voice gentled by a fraction. ‘My culture is very different from the one you’ve grown up in, Ella, and you’ll need to accept that if you want to find any kind of contentment here.’
Contentment? Did he think she was going to be content if she was going to be locked away like a nun without even the warm comfort of her new husband by her side? She stared at him, daring herself to voice the truth. ‘So we aren’t going to be a proper married couple?’
Almost reluctantly, Hassan let his eyes drift over her. With the golden veil framing her pale face he thought how lovely she looked, like some fragile, shimmering statue. In that moment, he could have pulled her close to him and drunk in her exquisite beauty with a passionate kiss. But something stopped him and that something was logic. This was nothing but a marriage of convenience, made with the sole purpose of legitimising their baby. Much better by far to keep their relationship on a formal footing.
‘But we aren’t a proper married couple, are we, Ella?’ he questioned, his harsh tone subduing the sexual hunger which had flared inside him. ‘We were never intended to be. And I think it best if we don’t complicate this already difficult situation by pretending to be something we’re not.’
Ella felt his words rip through her like a chill wind and she stared at him in dismay, realising how isolated her life was going to be if Hassan was planning on distancing himself from her.
Well, she certainly wasn’t going to beg him to sleep with her! Biting back her hurt, she accompanied him along the wide expanse of marble corridor, wanting to ask him why the hell he hadn’t told her all this before he’d made her his bride.
Because he couldn’t have told her, that was why. If he’d given her any intimation of how constricted her life would be in his country then she would have refused to come. No amount of money or the promise of a quick divorce would have tempted her to a life of virtual imprisonment. She would have found some other way to support herself because she would have had to.
To all intents and purposes, Hassan had deceived her. But that was now irrelevant. She couldn’t change what had happened. All she could do was react to it. And she would do what she had done all her life, no matter what fate had thrown at her. She