LITMIR.BIZ

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She didn’t want to believe it but her gut was telling her it had to be him. Head spinning, she desperately tried to think up some other explanation, figure out what could possibly have happened.

      As European royals, the King and Queen of Ebsberg had been present at the wedding but Anna had been thankful, at that point, to see that their son, Henrik, hadn’t joined them. She had completely forgotten about him until much later at the ball when out of the corner of her eye she had seen him arrive, looking unsteady on his feet, as if he had already been drinking. Having absolutely no desire to speak to him, she had deliberately kept out of his way, relieved that the relatively late hour meant she could legitimately slip away before he could corner her. But had Zahir spoken to him? Deliberately sought him out? Had it always been his intention to beat up her ex-fiancé?

      The barbaric thought made Anna feel physically sick. But there was only one way to find out if it was true.

      Leaping to her feet, she set off to find Zahir, pausing only briefly to try and get her bearings, to remember the way to his private quarters. With her pace quickening along with her temper, she flew along the echoing corridors, finally arriving at his door breathless and panting with anger. Rapping loudly on the panelling, she hurtled in without waiting for a reply.

      ‘What is the meaning of this?’ She advanced towards him, brandishing her phone before her like a weapon.

      Rising from where he had been seated at a computer, Zahir met her head-on, towering before her. ‘I could ask the same of you.’ Deep-set eyes flashed dangerously black. ‘I don’t take kindly to being ambushed in my own study.’

      ‘And I don’t suppose Prince Henrik takes kindly to being beaten up by some vicious thug.’ Trembling with animosity, Anna thrust the phone in his face. Taking it from her, Zahir gave it a cursory glance before tossing it back. Anna fumbled to catch it. ‘Well? What do you have to say?’ She could feel the hysteria rising in the face of his silence and the mounting realisation that she was right—Zahir had assaulted Henrik. ‘Do you know about this? Did you do this?’

      ‘I fail to see that this is any of your concern.’

      ‘Not my concern?’ Her voice screeched with incredulity. ‘How can you say that? It’s obvious that you attacked Henrik because of his association with me!’

      ‘Trust me, there are any number of reasons I could have hit that creature.’

      ‘So you admit it, then? You did assault Henrik?’

      Zahir shrugged and his dismissive gesture only served to pour more fuel onto Anna’s fury.

      ‘And that’s it? That’s all you have to say on the matter?’ She threw back her head so he couldn’t escape her livid gaze. ‘Aren’t you at least going to offer some explanation, show some concern for what you’ve done?’

      ‘I think you’re showing enough concern for both of us.’

      The air crackled between them, stirring the shadows of this cave-like room.

      ‘What do you mean by that?’

      ‘Some might say that you are unduly concerned about someone you should no longer have any attachment to.’

      ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

      ‘That you are displaying the behaviour of someone who still has feelings for this man.’

      ‘No...’

      ‘Are you regretting the past? Is that what it is? Do you wish you were married to him instead of me?’

      ‘No, no, it’s not that at all.’

      ‘Isn’t it, Annalina? Are you sure? You’ve told me yourself that it was Henrik who broke off your engagement. You still want him, don’t you? That’s the reason you are displaying such irrational behaviour.’

      Irrational behaviour? Anna’s eyes glittered back at him like shards of glass. She knew what he was doing: he was trying to make out that she was overreacting—that, even though he was the one who had committed the crime, she was the one who should be examining her motives. Well, she wasn’t having it. Positioning herself squarely in front of him, she clenched her teeth, ready to fire at him with both barrels.

      ‘Has it ever occurred to you, Zahir...’ she swallowed audibly ‘...that I may be displaying the behaviour of someone who’s worried that they have married a monster?’

      A terrible silence fell between them. For a moment neither of them moved, their eyes locked in a lethal clash that Anna couldn’t break but that tore into her soul. She could hear the roar of blood in her ears, feel the heavy thud of her heartbeat, but she was paralysed, Zahir’s painfully piercing black stare holding her captive as surely as if she’d been nailed to the ground.

      ‘And that’s what you think, is it?’ His voice was lethally low, barely more than a murmur. But it carried the weight of the loudest scream. ‘You think that I am a monster?’

      ‘I didn’t actually say that.’

      ‘Well, you are not alone. The Beast of Nabatean—isn’t that what they call me?’

      ‘No, I mean...’

      ‘Don’t bother to try and deny it. I know full well how the European bourgeoisie perceive me.’

      ‘But not me, Zahir. I would never call you such a thing.’ Anna had heard the insulting title—of course she had—but a loathing of prejudice and bigotry, and maybe a smattering of fear, had made her dismiss it. Until now. ‘This isn’t about what other people call you. And it’s nothing to do with how I feel about Henrik. It’s about you going around beating people up.’

      ‘And you think that’s what I do?’

      ‘Well, what am I supposed to think?’

      ‘I’d like you to leave now.’ He turned away and she was suddenly presented with the impenetrable wall of his back.

      ‘What? No!’ Horrified, she reached forward, her fingers clawing at the fabric of his shirt. ‘I’m not going until we have discussed this, until you have heard me out.’

      ‘I said I want you to leave.’

      ‘And if I refuse?’

      ‘Who knows what might happen, Annalina? How I might react.’ Swinging round, he closed the space between them with a single step, then towered over her, his fixed gaze as black as a raven’s wing. ‘Are you prepared to take that risk? Are you prepared to incur the wrath of such a monster as me?’ His words were clearly designed to intimidate her and it was working, at least to start with, Anna’s throat drying, her hands shaking from the sheer force of his might.

      But as she continued to stare at him a different reaction started to seep in. Suddenly her breasts felt heavy, her nipples contracting, her belly clenching with a fierceness that rippled down to her core, holding it tight in its grip. Suddenly her whole body was alive to him. And it was nothing to do with fear.

      She watched as his pupils dilated, her own doing the same in response. So he felt it too. Anger still pulsed between them but now it was laced with hunger, a carnal craving that was growing more powerful with each suspenseful second.

      She forced herself to swallow. How could she want this man so badly? It didn’t make any sense. How could she have given her heart to a man capable of such savagery? Capable of hurting her so badly? The wounds inflicted on their wedding night, still raw and bleeding, were a painful testament to that. But a monster? No. Arrogant, insufferable, formidable... Anna could reel off a list of his shortcomings. But loyal too and fiercely protective. She had seen the way he was with his brother, glimpsed the burden of pain and suffering caused by his parents’ tragic deaths before he had pulled down the shutters and pushed her away. She had heard the pride in his voice whenever he spoke of his country. No, Zahir was no monster.

      ‘Well?’ He bit out the word but there was an edge to his voice that betrayed him, angered him. He extended his arm, roughly clasping the back of

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