Royals Untamed!. Annie West

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       CHAPTER TWELVE

      SUMMER IN PARIS was nowhere near as hot as Barazbin, but relief from the heat scarcely made up for the pain in her heart. For two whole days Amber had given into despair and had stayed in the flat, not wanting food, not wanting anything other than Kazim. Finally, sense had prevailed.

      This morning she had thrown open the windows of the flat, sounds from the streets below filtering in. Spurred on by the fact that Annie and Claude would soon be home, she’d set about bringing life back to the tired rooms.

      Next she moved onto the task she’d been putting off—unpacking. She was back from Barazbin for good and it was past time to sort through everything she’d hastily packed a few days earlier. As she reached into the bottom of the case, her fingers touched the red silk of her abaya—the one she’d been wearing on that last night with Kazim, the one she’d allowed herself to bring home so that she could remember him.

      Each time she saw that silk it would either take her back to the moments when he’d coldly accused her of lying, or to the moment when he’d seductively removed every trace of it from her body before making her his, one last time.

      As if in slow motion she stood and lifted the garment up against her. She inhaled deeply, smelling the desert—and Kazim.

      Why did she have to love him so intensely and so painfully?

      That night in the desert had been a mixture of anguish and ecstasy. He’d refused to acknowledge her love, but his body had welcomed it. Then it had all changed by the time they’d returned to the palace. He’d become cold and distant.

      She closed her eyes against the memory of the moment she’d left the palace. He’d been like a statue, firm and resolute. He had no emotion for her, not even sympathy, and she’d been forced to retreat behind her sunglasses as tears had welled in her eyes. Tears she would never let him see.

      When he’d told her why she had to go it was obvious he was saying it out of duty. He was ending their marriage because of duty to his kingdom.

      Well, so be it. He’d made his choice, one that was probably for the best. After all, she’d made it clear from the start she hadn’t wanted to return to Barazbin. All that existed between them was passion. Her love for him had to stay buried. She had to think of it as a love affair, a wild and passionate few days that had come to an end.

      It was time to move on.

      There had been no word from him since she’d left. Nothing. Over the last few days she had come to accept that what they’d shared had been driven by lust—certainly on Kazim’s part. Lust that had burnt itself out, finally overridden by duty.

      But hadn’t he married her out of duty? She frowned. If duty had been his motivation wouldn’t he have wanted the marriage to work? Her head felt heavy with confusion. Even when she wasn’t with him he could still muddle everything.

      ‘Enough!’ She spoke firmly to her reflection as she brushed her hair and scraped it up into a ponytail.

      She needed to focus her attention on more important matters. In a few days Annie and Claude would be back. Her life could return to normal and the last few weeks would fade into a dreamlike status.

      But it isn’t what I want. She pulled hard to tighten her ponytail but the sudden jolt of pain wasn’t nearly as sharp as the one that ripped through her heart each time she thought of Kazim.

      She closed her eyes against that pain. This is the last time. You have to move on. She opened her eyes and glared at her reflection. ‘Stop this.’

      There would be time enough to sort the unpacking tomorrow. Right now she felt enclosed; the short amount of time back in the desert had reminded her to be appreciative of space—and right now that was what she needed.

      As if on a mission, she grabbed her bag and, feeling slightly liberated, opened the door of the flat, humming as she quickly went down the stairs. It was gloomy in the corridor but sunlight streamed in as soon as she opened the old door that Kazim had been so disgusted with.

      ‘Oh!’ she gasped, shock hurtling at her, and stepped back a pace. Had her imagination just done that? She blinked a few times and looked again. Kazim was standing on the street, a few steps below her, as large as life.

      ‘What have you come for this time? You’ve already made it clear that our marriage is over,’ she snapped angrily at him. How dare he come back and upset the delicate balance she’d finally managed to achieve?

      He moved towards her, his casual Western clothes allowing him to blend in with everyone on the street—almost. The wild untamed power he’d always radiated was still evident and his shiny black hair and handsome features meant he would never completely blend in; even in Barazbin he’d stood out. Just as he had when he’d found her at the club. The aura of power that surrounded him was undeniable.

      Neither was she immune to him. Her heart rate accelerated, racing wildly, and, although she tried to tell herself it was nothing more than the trauma of seeing him on her doorstep, she knew it was him. Her husband.

      She cursed herself for not being stronger. But how could she quash her love for him? It was almost impossible, even when it was obvious that he would never love in return.

      ‘We need to talk, Amber.’ Eyes as black as midnight slipped quickly down her body and she fought hard against the sensation of tingles, as if he’d actually touched her. Did he have to do that, look at her with hot desire in his eyes whilst his voice sounded so aloof?

      ‘I don’t think so, Kazim.’ A prickle of indignation ran down her spine and she stood taller, thankful for her position above him on the steps. It made her feel in charge. In control. ‘You’ve said it all.’

      ‘No.’ He moved up a step. Closer to her, but still leaving her able to look down on him. ‘No, I said only what I should have said, what it was my duty to say.’

      She fumbled absently with the strap of her handbag and scrunched her eyes in confusion. Why did he have to talk in riddles all the time? Couldn’t he just say what he needed and go?

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