Special Deliveries: Heir To His Legacy. Elizabeth Lane
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a ring for you.”
She flipped open the top of the box. “From the Crown Jewels?” She examined the piece. It was gorgeous, utterly perfect and unique.
A garnet, deep and clear, set into bright yellow gold, fashioned into vines that held the stone in place like a glittering flower.
“This is a little… much, don’t you think?” she asked, touching the jewel with her fingertip. It struck her then, that no one had ever given her a gift. A strange realization, especially when this wasn’t a gift, but a piece of the facade.
It felt like one, though. And not just any gift, something extravagant and beautiful. Something special. The sort of thing her parents never would have done for her because she was simply an afterthought.
It was embarrassing to realize how badly she wanted to put it on. How badly, in that moment, she wanted it to be special. How badly she wanted someone, even if it was Sayid, to think she was special enough to deserve something so incredible.
She closed the lid on the box. On the feeling.
She didn’t need that. Aden was her family. The only family she needed.
“Do you like it?” he asked.
“Of course. But I don’t need a piece of the Crown Jewels.”
“You do. Because every al Kadar woman is presented with a piece of it for her wedding, and you will be no exception.”
“It’s not a real marriage.”
“So give it back when we divorce.”
She cleared her throat. “And when… when do you think that will be, exactly?”
“When will you be ready to live apart from Aden?”
She shook her head. “I won’t. Not until he’s grown.”
“Then we will be married until then.” He studied her closely. “It is a big commitment for someone your age. For someone whose life is outside of the royal family.”
“Having a baby is always a big commitment. When a woman finds out she’s pregnant… in that instant, her whole life changes. Her whole future changes. That’s all that’s happened to me. Yes, the circumstances are more complicated. And yes, the change happened a little later. But I’m willing to change my expectations of life for him. More than that, I want to.”
“You will be a good mother for him,” he said, his voice steady. Serious. “You will be the mother Tamara would have wanted for him.”
Emotion swelled in her chest, and again she was conscious of the empty space in her that wanted so badly to be filled by another person. She wanted him to take her in his arms, to tell her everything would be fine. To simply hold her up for a while so that it wasn’t only her strength keeping her from falling to her knees.
But she couldn’t afford the weakness. Not when Aden needed her.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Now, there is the small matter of lovers,” he said, changing the subject with a shocking swiftness that made her head spin.
“Of what now?”
“Lovers,” he said.
“I mean, I heard you, I just wasn’t sure what you… meant… by it?”
“If I am not in your bed, I will, at some point during our marriage, be in the bed of another woman. I am willing to give up a lot for my country, and to give Aden the best life he can have, but I am not giving up sex for sixteen years.”
She blinked. She supposed asking that of him was completely unreasonable. And yet, there was a small spark of anger, jealousy, inside that started in her stomach and flared up to her chest, making her heart pound hard.
Not so much jealousy in a possessive way. Not because she couldn’t bear the thought of sharing him, which would be silly, all things considered. But because a part of her very much wanted to be the woman in his bed. Wanted to be the one he couldn’t abstain from and, more than anything, be the one to benefit from his experience.
So stupid, Chloe.
The idea of seeing him with other women, of watching them parade through the palace in… tiny nighties with their big fake boobs bobbing up above the necklines for all the staff to see, made her stomach clench tight.
“Just… whatever you do,” she said, “be discreet. I don’t want to be conscious of what’s going on inside your bedroom. You keep it in there, I won’t open the door. To you, you can be getting some, to me, you can be in there all by yourself. And unless I open the door you can be both promiscuous and celibate. It’ll be Schrodinger’s affair.”
“Because it’s impossible to prove unless the door is opened?”
“Yeah, exactly. That’s the joke.”
“You need to work at cultivating more mainstream humor.”
“That would have killed in Advanced Quantum Field Theory.”
“The same applies to you. When you take a lover, you must use complete discretion. There can be no hint of a scandal for the media. None at all.”
“Um… okay.” She was celibate no matter which side of the door you stood on, and she had been for all of her life, so the idea of taking a lover after her marriage, after becoming a mother, seemed a little out there for her.
But she wasn’t going to admit that, either. The only thing worse than knowing Sayid was getting action with some gorgeous girl, was knowing that she wasn’t getting any action with an equally gorgeous guy. Which had never, ever mattered to her before. Stupid that it seemed to now.
“This is very serious, habibti. If I get caught in a scandal, very few people will care. I am a man in a man’s world, and when it comes to sex, men are forgiven much. Women are not. If anything happens there will be an outcry for me to divorce you. This marriage is about image, and nothing must compromise that. Nothing can be done to damage the way the people see you.”
“Don’t worry. I will be the soul of discretion when engaging in my illicit affairs. No sex on the dining table,” she said, and she felt her cheeks heat. She was trying to play at being sophisticated and worldly, trying to pretend she could stand there discussing just how their extramarital affairs would work without feeling horrifically awkward and embarrassed. It wasn’t working.
His eyes darkened, his jaw tightening. “On the dining table? I think that would be quite uncomfortable anyway.”
She swallowed. “Shows how much you know.”
“I could show you how much I know.”
The words escaped Sayid’s lips without his permission. He should not press this. Should not push her to see how far the attraction could take them. But it was so easy to embrace, the images flashing through his mind, hot and fast.
As hard surfaces went, the dining table didn’t feature in his fantasies. But against the wall? Her legs wrapped around his waist? That he could most certainly work with.
He could strip her of her clothes, of every inhibition. Could knock every fact she knew about the universe out of her head while she cried out her pleasure. And he would take his own in her gladly.
He clenched his teeth, tightening his hands into fists, trying to ignore the raging of his heart, the rush of blood south of his belt. He couldn’t afford to burn off his sexual frustration with Chloe. Couldn’t afford to let passion of any kind erupt between them.
Control was essential, keeping his defenses up, was essential. Always. And most especially with her. Why, he wasn’t certain, but he knew that it was. Sex, the desire for it, for a woman, should not make him shake inside. And yet she did.
Which was why he could never touch her.
“I… that’s okay. I don’t need