Modern Romance June 2019 Books 1-4. Кейт Хьюит
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have subsided.
Walking down the last flight of stairs, she was wondering whether or not to call in on Raj in his office when she broke out in a cold sweat. Her legs wobbled under her and she snatched at the stone balustrade to stay upright but the sick dizziness engulfing her was unstoppable and as she lurched to one side, dimly conscious that someone was seizing hold of her from behind, she passed out.
When Zoe came around slowly, she winced at the sensation of a needle in her arm and gripped the hand that was holding hers in dismay. Her eyes fluttered open as Raj leant down to her saying, ‘Don’t try to get up in case you faint again. Dr Fadel decided a blood test would be a good idea...sorry about that.’
The very quietness of his voice made her scan the room behind him, which seemed to be filled to the brim with anxious-looking people. Mortification made her close her eyes again and do as she was told because she had a clear recollection of almost tumbling down that last flight of stairs.
‘I’ll be late for my appointment,’ she protested.
‘You will not be leaving the palace today.’
‘But...’
‘Not until the doctor has diagnosed what is wrong with you,’ Raj spelt out more harshly, in a tone she wasn’t accustomed to hearing from him.
In shock at that attitude, she glanced up at him, but he had already moved away to speak to the older man closing a doctor’s bag on the desk. She registered that she was in Raj’s office on the sofa he had slept on when they were first married, and very slowly and carefully she began to inch up into a sitting position.
Raj stalked back to her. ‘Stay flat and lie still,’ he told her wrathfully.
He was furious with her, Zoe realised in consternation, wondering why. Possibly the uproar her faint had caused, she reflected unhappily, because the room was still crammed with staff all trying to speak to Raj at once in his own language, so she could only follow one word in three that she was hearing and those were the simple ones. Her ambition to learn Arabic was advancing only slowly. Finally, the room cleared and they were alone again.
‘May I sit up now or are you going to get angry again?’ Zoe murmured.
Raj gazed across the office at her and then moved forward before hovering several feet from her as though an invisible wall had suddenly come down between them. ‘I apologise. I was not angry with you, I was angry with myself for neglecting your health,’ he admitted tautly. ‘I knew you were unwell but I listened to you when you refused to let me call the doctor in. I shouldn’t have listened!’
‘Raj, that was my fault, this stupid virus, and I’m not awfully fond of medics.’
‘You will want to express thanks to your bodyguard, Carim. He saved your life when he prevented you from falling down the stairs. At the very least you would have been badly hurt with broken limbs,’ Raj framed jaggedly, his hands clenching into fists by his side. ‘But such a fall could definitely also have killed you and nothing is worth that risk.’
‘Of course, it isn’t,’ Zoe agreed soothingly because she was shaken as well by the accident that she had so narrowly escaped. ‘OK, you were right and I was wrong.’
‘I swore to look after you and I have failed in my duty,’ Raj informed her hoarsely.
Zoe paled. ‘It’s not your duty, Raj. I’m a fully grown adult and I made an unwise decision when I chose not to consult a doctor. Please don’t blame yourself for my mistake.’
‘How can I do anything else?’ Raj shot back to her with seeming incredulity. ‘You are my wife and you are in a country foreign to you. Who else should stand responsible for your well-being?’
I’m not your real wife. The declaration sprang to her lips but she didn’t voice it, belatedly recognising that whether Raj viewed her as his real wife or otherwise he would still feel that it was his duty to ensure her well-being. Three months ago she would happily have flung that declaration of independence at him but now she knew him a little better, knew the crushing weight of responsibility he took on without complaint. As his father, the King, suffered increasing ill health and days he was unable to leave his quarters, more of his obligations were falling on Raj’s shoulders. Unsurprisingly, Raj didn’t have an irresponsible bone in his lean, beautiful body and he was infuriatingly good at blaming himself for any mishap or oversight.
‘I’m sorry if I seemed to speak rudely and angrily,’ Raj breathed tautly, silvered dark eyes locked to her lovely face. ‘But I was very concerned.’
‘I understand that and I’m fine. In fact I think I’m recovered enough now to make that appointment.’
‘No, they will have to settle for me doing it in your place,’ Raj sliced in forcefully. ‘You’re not going out anywhere until we have heard from the doctor—’
‘Raj, for goodness’ sake, I’m fine,’ she told him again, swinging her feet down onto the floor to punctuate the statement.
‘We’ll see,’ Raj asserted with tact as he reached for her hand to help her upright, tugging her close to him, his stunning dark deep-set eyes below his straight black brows roaming over her delicate face. ‘But we will not see today...however, I am free this evening, and if you were to feel strong enough to welcome me home on that couch, I would be extraordinarily pleased.’
Zoe gurgled with laughter and stretched up on tiptoe to taste his wide sensual mouth with her own. And that was that, he was magically distracted from his overwhelming anxiety about her welfare. Her heart hammered and her fingers closed into his shirtfront because she wanted to rip it off him. Against her, she could feel him hard and ready and hunger coursed through her, turning her wanton with need.
With an enormous effort, Raj set her back from him. ‘We can’t. People are waiting for my arrival,’ he reminded her raggedly. ‘But it is one of those occasions when I wish I had the freedom to tell everyone but you to go to hell!’
Zoe flushed, censuring herself for tempting him merely to distract him because it had been a selfish move and he was never selfish, which made her feel bad. On the other hand, the couch invitation was welcome, she acknowledged with a tiny shiver of anticipation, wondering what had happened to the genuinely shy young woman she had been mere months earlier. She wasn’t shy with Raj. In fact, she was doing stuff with Raj she had never dreamt she would ever do with any man, once alien things like purchasing very fancy lingerie and posing in it, revelling in the rush of powerful femininity his fierce desire for her and his equally audacious appreciation gave her every time. She had discovered a whole new self to explore and secretly it thrilled her.
Outside the office door, she thanked the guard who had saved her from falling and he grinned at her, telling her in broken English that he would have died sooner than let anything happen to her on his watch. His undeniable sincerity shook her and she climbed the stairs, thinking that until now she hadn’t quite grasped how the people around her and those she met during engagements viewed her as Raj’s wife, certainly hadn’t taken that level of care and concern as seriously as they did. It struck her that many of those same people would be disappointed when she and Raj split up. But then there was nothing she could do about that, was there? She was a sham wife but they didn’t know that, didn’t know that she was nothing more than a glossy convenient lie foisted on the public, she ruminated unhappily.
She was having lunch when the middle-aged doctor she had glimpsed in Raj’s office called to see her. Dr Fadel was King Tahir’s doctor and resident in the palace and, fortunately for her, he had qualified in London and spoke excellent English.
After the usual polite pleasantries, he asked if he could dismiss the hovering staff and she nodded acquiescence with a slight frown, her tension rising. Of course, he was about to tell her that her hormones were all out of kilter, which was the most likely diagnosis, and she didn’t want to discuss her absent menstrual cycle with an audience either.
‘I am blessed to be the doctor to break such momentous news,’ he then informed