Midnight in the Desert: Jewel in His Crown / Not Fit for a King? / Her Desert Prince. Jane Porter

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       CHAPTER EIGHT

      FROM her small collection of clothing, Ruby selected a black dress she had bought to wear at her mother’s funeral and a beige cotton casual jacket. She would be too warm in the garments but they would have to do because she couldn’t wear the red suit again. Some minimal make-up applied to conceal the puffiness of her eyes and her pallor, her hair caught up in a high ponytail for coolness, Ruby forced herself to walk out to the dining area and join Raja for breakfast.

      ‘Good morning …’ Raja murmured lazily as if they had not parted at odds the night before.

      ‘Good morning.’ One glance at that handsome face and her mouth ran dry and her heart thumped loudly behind her breastbone, while a tiny heated knot of reaction pulled taut in her pelvis and made her clench her thighs together as she took a seat opposite him. Face burning with discomfiture, she suddenly didn’t blame herself any more for succumbing to Raja’s lethal sex appeal. He was a heartbreakingly beautiful man. Her biggest weakness was her failure to appreciate how clever and calculating he might be, but now that she did know she would be a great deal more cautious.

      ‘I’ve made arrangements for a new wardrobe to be assembled for you in Najar,’ Raja informed her.

      ‘I do need more clothes. I don’t own dressy outfits but I wouldn’t want anything too expensive or flashy,’ Ruby responded thoughtfully as he poured tea for her and she buttered a roll. ‘The state this country is in, it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to be dressed up like some sort of celebrity.’

      ‘Wajid would disagree with you. He thinks life is too dull here and that you will bring some much-needed colour and the promise that brighter times lie ahead. Here you are a celebrity, whether you like it or not, and celebrities dress up.’

      Zuhrah joined them along with her male administrative counterpart, Asim, who organised Raja’s diary. Ruby’s engagements at the orphanage and at a school were discussed and useful sheets of facts tucked into a file for her. She could not help noticing that the heavy-duty visits, like one to a homeless camp and another to a makeshift hospital, fell on Raja’s shoulders, Wajid evidently having decided such venues were no place for a lady. A lighter note was struck when a maid appeared with a crystal vase filled with the most exquisite white roses, which she placed on the table.

      ‘Oh, how lovely!’ Ruby got to her feet to lean down and draw in the rich opulent perfume of the perfect blooms and only then noticed the gift envelope inscribed with her name. She recognised Raja’s distinctive handwriting immediately. Eyes veiling, her facial muscles freezing, she took the card and sat down again to open it with pronounced reluctance.

       I am sorry for upsetting you. Raja

      Her teeth gritted. She reckoned there was never a truer word written than that apt phrase but she was unimpressed by the apology, for a wife barely able to look at him never mind speak to him was naturally a problem he had to fix. No doubt any effort made towards that objective would be all for the greater good and the peace treaty, as well.

      ‘Thank you,’ she said with the wooden intonation of a robot and gave him an even more wooden smile purely for the benefit of their audience of staff. Wajid would have been proud of her, she reflected bleakly. Instead of throwing the vase at her royal husband she had smiled at him, showing a restraint in her opinion that raised her near to sainthood. After all, had he been sincerely sorry would he not just have apologised across the table?

      Ruby didn’t do a good fake smile, Raja acknowledged wryly while he wondered if it had been accidental or deliberate that at one point she had actually pushed the vase of roses out of her way to lay down her file. And then he could not credit that he had actually spared the brain power to wonder about something so trivial! He left the room to phone his jeweller and explain what he wanted: a diamond of the very highest calibre. Raja did not embarrass easily but her silence over breakfast had embarrassed him. He did not want their differences paraded in front of their staff for inevitably it would lead to gossip and the news that their marriage was in trouble would enter the public domain very soon afterwards.

      Wajid accompanied Ruby to the orphanage and revealed that Raja had requested that he do so as soon as he had realised that Wajid had scheduled them to make visits separately.

      ‘His Royal Highness is very protective of you,’ Wajid told her with approval. ‘When he is unable to be with you he wants you to have every possible means of support.’

      It occurred to Ruby that that was paradoxical when Raja seemed to have the power to wound her more than anyone else. His protectiveness meant nothing, she reasoned unhappily. The prince was simply one of those very masculine men who deemed a woman to be more helpless and instinctively expected to have to take care of her. That in the desert she had proven him right on that score still blasted a giant hole in her self-esteem. But why did she feel so unhappy? Why had he hurt her as no other man had ever succeeded in doing since her stepfather had gone out of her life?

      It hadn’t just been sex for her, Ruby conceded reluctantly, striving to be honest about that. Raja was strong and clever and resourceful and she admired those traits. Add in his looks, boundless sex appeal and equally extensive charm and her defensive barriers had begun crumbling so fast she had barely registered the fact. Of course she had never met the equal of Raja al-Somari before. He came from a different world and culture but he had also been shaped by every educational advantage and great wealth and status. Twenty-odd years earlier, Ruby’s mother Vanessa had made the mistake of falling in love with just such a man. Was Ruby about to make the same mistake? Not if she could help it.

      The limousine СКАЧАТЬ