Midnight in the Desert. Jane Porter
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at the cathedral that afternoon, which Ruby had to attend, as well as an evening reception at which she was to meet many important people. She stifled a groan at the thought of her inadequate wardrobe and wondered if the red suit could be freshened up for the occasion.
A knock sounded on the door and a young woman joined them. ‘This is Zuhrah, Your Royal Highness, who with the assistance of your personal staff will take care of all your needs,’ Wajid explained. ‘She speaks excellent English.’
Zuhrah explained that she would look after Ruby’s diary and take care of all the invitations she received. Wajid departed while the pretty brunette showed Ruby through the spacious suite of rooms that had been set aside for her use. Over the light lunch that was served in the dining area Ruby mentioned the red suit and Zuhrah wasted no time in going off to track it down. As soon as she had eaten Ruby took advantage of the bathroom—she would never take one for granted again—and enjoyed a long, invigorating shower. Having dried her hair, she returned to the drawing room, clad in a wrap, and asked Zuhrah, who was tapping out notes on a netbook, if her missing handbag had turned up. Apparently it had not and Ruby knew she would have to see a doctor if she wanted another contraceptive pill. But did she need to take that precaution now? Was she planning to continue sleeping with Raja?
She thought not. Her brain said no, a very firm no. A mistake was a mistake and better acknowledged as such. There was another consequence to be feared as well, she reminded herself ruefully. She had missed taking her contraceptive pills while she was in the desert and there had to be a risk that she might already have conceived a child by Raja. What was she going to do if that happened? A chill ran down Ruby’s spine at the prospect of such a dilemma. She loved babies but a baby that would be deemed royal would severely complicate her practical marriage and ultimately wreck any hope of them establishing a civilised relationship. She was convinced that if she had a child there was no way that Raja would agree to her taking that child back home to the UK with her again.
The service at the cathedral late that afternoon required nothing more from Ruby than her presence. Police stood outside the historic building with linked arms to hold back the crowds struggling to catch a glimpse of the new princess. The evening reception was a great deal more taxing, however, for while she was perfectly able to make small talk she was embarrassed several times by more probing questions concerning her background than she wished to answer. People were extremely curious about her and as yet she did not have the skill to deflect unwelcome queries. Later she would register that she had known the exact moment when Raja entered the big reception room for a flutter of excitement seemed to run through the gathered cliques. With a muttered apology, Wajid left her side and heads turned away from her, eyes swerving towards the door while a low buzz of comment sounded.
‘Real royalty,’ someone whispered appreciatively within Ruby’s hearing. ‘And you can definitely tell the difference.’
Mortified heat burnished Ruby’s fair complexion. Real royalty? Had she performed her role so badly? But then she knew that she could only be a pretend princess by virtue of her birth. How could she be anything else when she had spent all her life to date living as an ordinary person? But she was trying, she was trying very hard to be polite, reserved and dignified as Wajid had advised her she must be at all times while carefully avoiding controversial subjects. It was tough advice for a bubbly and naturally outspoken young woman to follow. To Ruby it also felt like trying to be something she was not while putting on airs and graces that went against the grain.
His tall powerful physique sheathed in a dove-grey suit, her husband looked devastatingly handsome. Her husband? Why was she thinking of Raja in such terms? He wasn’t her husband, not really, she told herself angrily, irritated by the mental mistake. A woman chose her husband with her heart but she had not. Guilty colour mantling her face, Ruby studied that lean, strong, wondrously handsome face and she steeled herself to feel nothing, absolutely nothing. She watched Raja work the room like a professional, smooth and practised and yet charming as well with a word here, a greeting there, for some a smile, for others a more serious aspect. He was a class act socially, everything she was not. Hovering at his elbow, Wajid Sulieman looked as though all his Christmases had come at once.
When refreshments were served, Raja was finally free to join Ruby. Lustrous dark eyes gleaming like polished amber flared down into hers while he rested a light hand at her spine. She went rigid, rejecting the temptation of even that much familiarity while recalling Bariah, who would never have been ill-at-ease in such a social gathering.
‘My family were very disappointed not to meet you today,’ the prince told her quietly.
‘Whereas here everyone is disappointed that I’m not you—you carry the accolade of being real royalty, unlike me,’ Ruby retorted, only to bite her lip a few seconds after that hot rejoinder had escaped her for she would have preferred to keep that particular thought to herself.
‘You are imagining that. A beautiful woman in fashionable apparel is almost always more welcome than a man,’ Raja fielded without skipping a beat.
Wajid introduced them to an older couple, who represented a charity that ran an orphanage just outside Simis, which Ruby, apparently, would be visiting the next day. In the wake of that casual announcement, which was news to Ruby, she appreciated how little freedom she now had when it came to how she might choose to spend her time. Her time evidently now belonged to an ever-growing list of duties, engagements and activities, not least of which was her need to learn the language so that a translator did not have to dog her every footstep.
‘You’re very quiet. What’s wrong?’ Raja enquired as Ruby mounted the stairs that led back to her suite.
‘It’s not important.’ Ruby pushed open the door and sped through to the bedroom to change into something more comfortable. A maid was engaged in hanging clothes in a closet there, male clothes. Her soft full mouth compressing as she recognised that fact, Ruby walked back into the main reception room where Raja was poised by the window.
‘You’re staying in this suite with me?’
‘Married couples usually share the same accommodation,’ Raja pointed out evenly.
Temper roused by that tranquil response skittered up through Ruby in an uneasy rush. He made it sound so simple but their relationship was anything but simple. ‘I didn’t realise that but for that plane crash you would have married my cousin Bariah,’ she admitted. ‘I hadn’t worked that out yet.’
‘A marriage would hardly have been included in the peace accord if the royal families did not have a bride and a groom in mind.’
As usual what Raja said made perfect sense and her teeth gritted in frustration. ‘I’m sure you would have preferred a proper Ashuri princess!’
Face deadpan, Raja gazed steadily back at her, patently refusing to be drawn on that touchy topic.
Tension roared through Ruby’s rigid stance like a hurricane seeking an outlet. ‘I said—’
‘I am not deaf,’ Raja cut in very drily. ‘But I do wonder what you expect me to say in reply to such an assumption.’
Flushed and furious, Ruby surveyed him. ‘Is an honest answer too much for me to ask for?’
‘Not at all, but I will not insult either you or your late cousin with the suggestion that I might compare two completely different women and voice a preference for either,’ Raja advanced, eyes cool while his strong jaw-line set hard as iron. ‘That is not a reasonable request.’
‘Well, as far as I’m concerned, it’s perfectly reasonable!’ Ruby slung back heatedly.
‘But to answer you would be disrespectful.’
‘Unlike you I’m only human. Naturally I want to know although I don’t know why I’m bothering to ask. Bariah was a real princess and would’ve had much more in common with you than I have.’
‘No comment,’ the prince pronounced stonily and with much bowing and scraping the little maid emerged from the bedroom and left the suite.
‘Bariah