Modern Romance June 2019 Books 1-4. Кейт Хьюит
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‘This suite was last occupied by my father fifty-odd years ago,’ Raj informed her grimly. ‘You can tell.’
‘You didn’t use these rooms when you were younger?’
‘No. Before my marriage I was expected to live in my father’s household.’
Zoe passed on into a ridiculously gigantic bathroom with a great domed roof studded with star tiles. The bathroom fittings huddled somewhat pathetically against the walls. ‘It just needs more furniture,’ she told Raj with determined cheer. ‘We could have one of those fainting couches in the middle and I could lie there like Cleopatra eating grapes.’
His starlit eyes focused on her without warning, an intensity within that look that made something quiver and burn low in her pelvis. ‘Naked?’
‘Whatever turns you on,’ Zoe mumbled, face burning, outclassed in her attempt to be light-hearted and dropping her head even while she pictured herself lying there naked for Raj’s enjoyment. A ridiculous fantasy, she scolded herself, for there would be nothing particularly sexy or seductive about her very small curves on display.
‘I have staff to introduce you to now,’ Raj announced, biting back the comment that seeing her naked in any circumstances would work a treat for him. There would be no flirtation between them, he instructed himself harshly, no foolishness.
‘Staff?’ she exclaimed in dismay.
‘Principally my PR team, but you will have your own PA to keep you well informed of events. My father has made certain requests. He would like you to give an interview to our leading newspaper.’
Zoe had frozen. ‘An...interview?’ she yelped in dismay.
‘Saying how you feel about arriving in your grandmother’s country and being on the brink of a state wedding. My team will advise you and remain with you during it. There is also a fashion stylist, who will recommend a suitable wedding dress and new clothes.’
‘I brought a wedding dress and an entire wardrobe with me,’ she informed him helpfully.
‘It would be distasteful to me were you to wear the dress you purchased for the marriage you planned to make to my uncle,’ Raj delivered succinctly. ‘You will wear nothing bought for that purpose.’
Zoe just couldn’t see why it should matter what she wore. ‘Don’t you think you’re being too particular?’
Raj settled hard black eyes on her, startling her. ‘No. I know what I like. I know what I don’t like. The concept of you wearing anything chosen with another man in mind offends me.’
Zoe sucked in a sustaining breath, deciding that he was more sensitive to her past history than she had appreciated. She returned to supervising the maid hanging her clothes because it seemed safer to keep her head down.
‘You will be kept very busy over the next few days choosing wedding apparel,’ Raj informed her from the doorway.
‘Can I use your phone for a few minutes?’ Zoe asked abruptly. ‘Mine needs charging and I want to catch up with my sisters and my grandfather.’
‘Of course.’ Raj dug out his phone, cleared the password and handed it to her. ‘I will see you later.’
And then, just like that, he was gone and she was staring at the space where he had been, all black silky curls with his dark, devastatingly beautiful face taut and uninformative. She had wanted him to stay with her, had wanted more. For a charged moment, she couldn’t cope with seeing that large gap between reasonable expectation and sheer idiocy for, naturally, Raj wasn’t planning to hover over her like a protective and loving spouse because he wasn’t really her husband in the truest sense of the word. No, he was genuinely offering her what she had told herself she needed and craved: an independent life in which they would live separate in mind and body. So why did that sensible arrangement now seem much less inviting? Why did his attitude currently feel like something of a rejection? She shook off that strange notion and told herself to stop overthinking everything before she drove herself mad.
Her grandfather was delighted to hear from her and eager to be assured that Raj was treating her properly, while adding that he would be arriving for the wedding, the fierce pride in his voice as he mentioned ‘state’ wedding so strong that it made her roll her eyes and swallow back a sigh. Winnie and Vivi were far less accepting of the change of bridegroom.
‘He’s a lot younger than the oldie,’ Vivi warned her worriedly. ‘Make sure he doesn’t try to get too friendly because he may have a different agenda.’
And when Zoe protested about how kind and considerate Raj had been so far, Winnie snorted. ‘He’s a prince, a future king—obviously he’ll be full of himself. And I looked him up online...he’s incredibly good-looking. Watch out for him trying to change the terms of your agreement.’
But when Zoe went to bed that night there was no sign of Raj being full of himself or looking to change the terms of anything. He had joined her earlier for dinner out in their private courtyard, a space shaded by towering and somewhat neglected trees and shrubs, and he had then excused himself to work. She had been measured up for a new wardrobe, had looked at length at designer dresses on a screen and had stated her preferences. By the end of the day she was too exhausted to stay awake, wondering where Raj was.
Raj worked late into the night before bedding down on the sofa in his office. It was the safe option. A vision of Zoe naked troubled his rest and at four in the morning he was on his phone trying to find out what a fainting couch was; for some reason he was determined to buy one regardless of cost. He groaned out loud at the conflict tearing at him. He didn’t want to get involved. He didn’t want to have sex with her...except when his resistance was at a low ebb. Why the hell would he buy a fainting couch for her to pose on? He found a purple velvet one hung with tassels and pictured her with a driven exhalation of breath before he thumped the cushion beneath his head. No couch, no flirtation, no sex, no intimacy whatsoever, he reminded himself grimly.
* * *
‘Well, I couldn’t say much for the accommodation,’ Vivi remarked with a decided sniff.
Zoe bit back a tart response because her sister had been making critical comments ever since she had arrived the night before and it was starting to annoy her. ‘It’s very comfortable and Raj says I can take furniture from any of the unused rooms in the palace or buy new stuff, but contemporary wouldn’t really work in surroundings like these. I haven’t had time yet to change anything with all this wedding craziness going on.’
‘That monster bathroom is just ridiculous,’ Vivi opined snarkily.
‘Raj’s father wouldn’t agree to any structural alterations when the bathrooms first went in. As far as he can, the King wants to preserve the palace as it was when he took the throne and I can understand that. It’s a very old and historic building and he feels more like the custodian for future generations than the owner who has a free hand,’ Zoe pointed out.
‘You’ve got more confident...that’s clear and I definitely approve of that,’ her eldest sister, Winnie, said warmly. ‘Here you are giving interviews and the like. I never thought I’d see the day.’
‘Oh, the interview was easy,’ Zoe carolled. ‘Raj’s PR team headed off any too personal questions for me and advised me on what to wear and all the rest of it.’
‘But you picked your own wedding gown,’ Winnie said knowingly, scrutinising the tiny glittering figure of her youngest sister. The dress was an elegant sleeved sheath with a modest neckline. Elaborate embroidery sewn with crystals and pearls adorned the lightweight tulle and it was the perfect fit for her petite frame. ‘It’s very chic.’
‘Oh, stop changing the subject, Winnie,’ Vivi cut in curtly, keen to cut through the chit-chat to what she believed was truly important, which was protecting Zoe. ‘You know that you’re as worried as I am. We talked about it last night.’
‘And