Royals: Claimed By The Prince. Penny Jordan
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how long were you standing there watching?’ She had gone through the scene enough times to realise that Kamel could have heard some, if not all, of the exchange with Rob.
Grave-eyed, she looked up from her contemplation of her hands and heard him say, ‘Long enough.’
She ground her teeth in exasperation at this deliberately cryptic response.
‘So he cheated on you?’
Oh, yes, he would have heard that bit.
‘It happens.’
There was no pity in his voice; Hannah let out a tiny sigh of relief.
‘Dumping him on the actual wedding day was a pretty good revenge.’ Kamel understood the attraction of retribution, though, being a man to whom patience did not come easily, he struggled with the concept of a dish served cold.
‘I didn’t plan it.’ She looked startled by the idea. ‘That’s when I found out.’
He looked at her incredulously. ‘On the actual day?’
She nodded, experiencing the familiar sick feeling in the pit of her stomach as the memory surfaced. It had been an hour before the photographers, hairdressers and make-up artists were due to arrive. She had knocked on Sal’s door under the pretext of collecting the something blue her best friend had promised her, though what she had actually wanted was reassurance—someone to tell her she was suffering from last-minute nerves and it was all normal.
‘I walked in on him with Sal, my chief bridesmaid. They were... It wasn’t until later that I discovered he’d worked his way through most of my circle.’
She didn’t look at him to see his reaction. She told herself she was past caring whether she came across as self-pitying and pathetic, but it wasn’t true. She simply didn’t have the strength left to maintain the illusion. The last few days one hit after another combined with exhaustion had destroyed her normal coping mechanisms... What pride she had left had been used up in her encounter with Rob.
‘So he slept with everyone but you.’
Her eyes flew to his face. ‘So you heard that too.’
He nodded. He had heard, but not quite understood. It was not a new strategy, and she was the sort of woman who was capable of inspiring obsession in susceptible men, though why a man who was willing to marry to get a woman in his bed would then choose to sleep around was more difficult to understand. Especially when the woman in question would make all others look like pale imitations.
‘So the only way he could have you was marriage.’ Twenty-four hours ago the discovery would not have left him with a sense of disappointment. Twenty-four hours ago he’d had no expectations that could be disappointed—he had only expected the worst of her.
His cynical interpretation caused her cobalt-blue eyes to fly wide open in shocked horror. ‘No, I wanted to.’ She gave a tiny grimace and added more honestly, ‘I would have.’ The fact was she simply wasn’t a very sexual creature, which did beg the question as to why she couldn’t look at Kamel or even hear his voice without feeling her insides melt. ‘But he...’
Kamel watched her fumble for words, looking a million miles from the controlled woman reputed to have a block of ice for a heart, and felt something tighten in his chest.
‘Apparently he wanted to worship me, not—’
‘Take you to bed,’ Kamel supplied, thinking the man was even more of a loser than he’d thought.
‘I don’t actually think he thought of me as a woman. More an addition to his art collection. He likes beautiful things...not that I’m saying I’m—’
‘Don’t spoil all this honesty by going coy. We both know you’re beautiful. So why is it everyone thinks he’s the injured party?’
‘I’d prefer to be thought a bitch than an idiot.’ The explanation was not one she had previously articulated. She was startled to hear the words. It was something she had not admitted to anyone before.
‘And your father still invited the man here?’ If a man had treated his daughter that way he would have— Kamel dragged a chair out from the dressing table, swung it around and straddled it.
‘Oh, it was easier to let him think I’d had second thoughts. They’ve been friends for a long time and Dad had already had an awful time telling everyone the wedding was cancelled. A lot of people turned up and it was terrible for him—’
‘And you were having such a great day...’
Hannah’s protective instincts surfaced at the implied criticism of her father.
‘You were right. It was my fault. This is my fault, totally my fault.’
He shook his head, bemused by her vehemence, and protested, ‘You didn’t ask the guy to jump you!’
‘No, not Rob. Getting arrested, getting you mixed up in it, terrifying Dad half to death. If he has another heart attack, it would be down to me.’
It was news to Kamel that he had had one. The man certainly hadn’t been scared enough to change his lifestyle. ‘I think a doctor might disagree. Your father does not hold back when it comes to saturated fat.’
‘You’re trying to make me feel better.’
He studied her face. ‘It’s clearly not working.’
‘Why are you being nice? It’s my fault we had to get married. I should have waited for help. I shouldn’t have left the Land Rover. I shouldn’t have been there at all.’ She shook her head, her face settling into a mask of bitter self-recrimination as she loosed a fractured sob. ‘All the things you said.’
‘The village did get the vaccines, and the help they needed.’
Lost in a morass of self-loathing, she didn’t seem to hear him. ‘I couldn’t even help myself, let alone anyone else. I was only there to prove a point. I’ve spent my life playing it safe.’ She planted her hand flat on her heaving chest and lifted her tear-filled eyes to his.
‘I always played by the rules. I even wanted a safe man... I didn’t even have the guts to do what I really wanted.’ She shook her head slowly from side to side and sniffed. ‘I went to university and did a course I had absolutely no interest in rather than stand up to my dad. I got engaged to a man who seemed safe and solid, and when he turned out to be a total bastard did I learn? No, I got engaged to a man I knew would never hurt me because...I always go for the safe option.’
He let out a long, low whistle. ‘Dieu, I wanted you to take responsibility for your own actions—not the financial crisis, world hunger and bad days in the week that have a Y in them.’
Startled, Hannah lifted her head. Her eyes connected with his and a small laugh was shaken from her chest. ‘I just want...’ She stopped, her husky voice suspended by tears, her control still unravelling so fast she could not keep pace.
With a muttered imprecation he dropped down to his knees beside the bed and pushed the hair back from her damp face.
‘What do you want?’
Her wide brimming blue eyes lifted. ‘I just want to be...to feel...not like this.’ She gnawed at her lower lip and brought her lashes down in a protective veil. ‘Sorry, I don’t know why I’m saying this stuff to you.’
Responding to the painful tug in his chest, Kamel stood up and gently pushed her down. Sliding his hand behind her knees, he swung her legs onto the bed, pulling a pillow under her head before joining her.
‘Go to sleep,’ he said, lowering his long length onto the bed beside her.
‘I can’t sleep. I have dreams that I’m back in that cell and he is...’ She struggled to sit up. A light touch on her breastbone stopped her rising and after a moment she stopped fighting. ‘I can’t sleep.’
He