LITMIR.BIZ

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and the deed is done. They’re already married.’

      ‘With one bedroom in a palace the size of a small city!’ Vivi interrupted worriedly, seriously suspicious of that development. ‘How’s she going to fight off a guy twice her size?’

      Zoe paled at the tenor of the conversation. ‘I won’t have to fight him off. Raj sleeps elsewhere. We haven’t had to share a bed since that first night I told you about, and that was kind of unavoidable and he apologised for it.’

      ‘Raj is smooth, sophisticated, predatory,’ Vivi outlined in condemnation, finally speaking her mind, for she had taken one look at Raj in all his good-looking, silkily soft-spoken glory and seen him as a major threat to the terrifyingly innocent and fragile little sister she loved. How could such a very handsome and wealthy man not be predatory? Zoe’s near rape had almost destroyed her and Vivi didn’t want her sister plunged into any situation that could threaten her peace of mind. ‘I would imagine he is never stuck for the right word in a difficult situation.’

      ‘He’s not predatory,’ Zoe argued with distaste. ‘He’s been kind. He’s courteous and considerate and that’s all we need right now.’

      ‘Leave it, Vivi,’ Winnie said ruefully. ‘All you’re doing is putting more pressure on her.’

      Zoe’s hand shook a little as she reapplied her lipstick. She was furious that Vivi had called Raj predatory after only meeting him for an hour over the formal dinner that had been staged the night before. Stam Fotakis, her grandfather, had been grudgingly impressed by Raj, pointing out to her with satisfaction that, unlike her sisters’ husbands, Raj had never been tagged a womaniser.

      Diamonds flashed with every movement of her body. Raj had sent her jewel cases containing a tiara, a necklace and earrings. She didn’t know whether they were family heirlooms or bought specially for her use and she hadn’t had the chance to ask him because she had barely seen Raj since their move to the palace two weeks earlier. He joined her for dinner every evening but his manner was formal and distant and she didn’t know how to break through that façade.

      And although she had tried to penetrate that barrier to establish a friendlier vibe, Raj remained resolutely detached and very, very polite. His attitude frustrated the hell out of her. She didn’t know what the matter with him was or what was travelling through his brain. The warmer, milder, more approachable side of Raj had vanished as though it had never been.

      Although she could have had no suspicion of the fact, Raj’s attitude was frustrating his royal parent even more.

      ‘Any normal man would want to keep her!’ King Tahir was proclaiming to his stony-faced son.

      ‘I have no intention of keeping Zoe as a wife,’ Raj asserted quietly. ‘You knew that going into this.’

      ‘She’s a beautiful, gentle girl. Everyone who has met her has talked highly of her. She could be a tremendous asset to you with her personality and ancestry,’ his father fumed. ‘Why are you sleeping in your office with a beautiful wife in your bed? Have you forgotten how to woo a woman?’

      The obstinacy that ran through Raj like a steel backbone flared and he gritted his teeth. ‘She agreed to a fake marriage and I will abide by that agreement as I will abide by the one I made with you.’

      The King paced the floor and silence fell. It was the silence of unresolved differences and residual bitterness that most often distinguished meetings between father and son. It took effort for the older man to persist. ‘I loved your mother. I know she was unhappy as my wife but I loved her very much and the mode of her death devastated me,’ he bit out harshly. ‘I have to live with my regrets and my mistakes but I still remain grateful for the time I had with her.’

      Raj swallowed hard, unable even to look at his father and utterly taken aback by that confession. He had never realised that his father actually loved his mother but he did recall that, after her passing, the older man had lived like a hermit for over a year. Not guilt so much as grief, Raj adjusted now, his view of the past softening the trauma of loss just a little.

      Ironically, even appreciating that could not lift his gloom because there was nothing to celebrate when marrying a very beautiful woman who appealed to him on every level but who would ultimately leave him. His mother had left him by taking her own life, Nabila had left him through betrayal of all that he held dear. But then, hadn’t he agreed that Zoe would ultimately leave him? Hard cheekbones colouring at that timely recollection, he reminded himself that he was in control of events and walking the path he had chosen. By the time Zoe walked out of his life again, he would surely be glad to reclaim his freedom.

      * * *

      The state wedding was so official and serious that Zoe’s face ached with her set and determined smile. Being the cynosure of all eyes was taxing for her, but she wouldn’t let herself dwell on that reality because she was well aware that all brides were subject to close scrutiny. Instead she reminded herself that she was lucky enough to have her grandfather, her sisters and their husbands with her for support. Sadly, the formality of the event had persuaded her sisters that their young children were better left at home and she suppressed a sigh. Winnie’s son, Teddy, was a very lively little boy and her toddler daughter was full of mischief while as for Vivi’s twin boys, sitting still for any length of time was a massive challenge for them, but Zoe was still disappointed not to have had some time with her nephews and niece because she had always adored children and had grieved over the truth that she was unlikely to have any of her own.

      Yet her recognition of her attraction to Raj and her enjoyment of that amazing kiss had made her think that just maybe there was hope for her in the future. Maybe some day, after all, she would be able to have a relationship with a man like any normal woman, and if that happened then she just might have children of her own to love and care for eventually. More than anything else, what she had learned about herself since arriving in Maraban had convinced her that staying in her grandmother’s country was the very best thing she could do to steer herself back into the land of the living. There was a whole world out there waiting to be discovered and for the first time in years she was filled with hope and optimism.

      In the short term, however, she acknowledged wryly, there was the marrying, the constant smiling and the solemn bridegroom to contend with at their reception. If a smile had cracked Raj’s face once she must not have been around to see it. A half-smile would play about the corner of his full sensual lips in the most infuriatingly tantalising way and she would watch and watch those lean, darkly beautiful features of his, but the real thing never quite made it, even for the authorised wedding photographs, which had proved to be an exercise in rigid formality.

      Yet everywhere in Raj’s radius, a virtual party was in swing, his return to being Crown Prince clearly a development that was celebrated by the many important guests attending, who ranged from visiting royal connections to business tycoons, top diplomats and local VIPs. His popularity was undeniable, although he was quick to dampen comments that tactlessly suggested that some day he would take Maraban forward in a different way from his father. Zoe sat through a lot of business talk before escaping back in the direction of her sisters.

      She had already done her stint with Queen Ayshah, who had employed Farida as a translator and had embarrassed the other young woman greatly by insisting on passing on her convictions of what it took to be a good royal wife. A feminist would have had a field day with those rules, Zoe reflected with strong amusement, but then the elderly Queen had grown up in a different world where a woman’s happiness and even her life could be utterly dependent on retaining her husband’s favour. Thankfully, Raj would have no such power over her, Zoe thought fondly as she took a detour towards the cloakroom before approaching Winnie and Vivi.

      In the big anteroom surrounding the cloakroom, a tall, slender woman rose from a chair and addressed her. ‘Your Royal Highness?’ she murmured with modestly evasive eyes. ‘May I have a word?’

      Zoe looked up into one of the most beautiful faces she had ever seen: a flawless oval graced by almond-shaped brown eyes with remarkable lashes, a classic slim nose and a pouty full mouth. The woman wore a

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