about embracing Chrissie as his wife and queen or that he would willingly have selected her for that role now.
After all, what choice had Jaul had? His passionate temperament was uniquely misleading. He was a wildly passionate male but, at heart, he was ruled by cool intellect and practicality. The marriage he had chosen to put behind him and dismiss had come back to haunt him in the worst way and now he was trapped with a wife he couldn’t divorce without shocking and disappointing his people. Fate could well be forcing him to make the best of a bad situation. Her skin turned clammy while she pondered that humiliating theory but she knew that it would be stupid to ignore that wounding analysis of their marriage and even stupider to assume that sharing Jaul’s bed meant anything more to him than the casual and convenient slaking of sexual need. Sobered by those reflections, Chrissie tightened the sash on the oversized robe and went back into the bedroom, relieved to appreciate that there were two en suites attached to it. Just at that moment she needed her own space and peace in which to rebuild her poise. Home truths, she thought reluctantly, were necessary to keep her feet on the ground but, my goodness, they could hurt...
WITH LIZZIE BY her side, Chrissie crossed the entrance hall of the British Embassy in Marwan City with her pale head held high, her hair swept up and ornamented only with a short veil and her perilously high sparkly shoes tap-tapping on the tiles.
Her dress was such a neat fit that she could barely breathe in it but she felt like ten million dollars in the exquisite dress with its shimmering embroidered fabric glistening even in the dulled light. She was a stock size...just, and Zaliha had discovered that several exclusive designers were willing to fly in a selection of dresses and accessories for a queen’s approval. The gown hugged her arms and her upper body, nipping in at the waist before flaring out with the fluidity of the most expensive silk.
‘You look spectacular,’ her sister whispered with fierce pride. ‘And I’m so pleased that Jaul is making such an effort to give your marriage a firmer footing in the present.’
If anything, Chrissie’s smile dimmed as she had not allowed it to dim during the lengthy photographic session that had preceded her departure from the royal palace. Lizzie had not recognised that Chrissie was fulfilling a more public than private role in agreeing to the renewing of her wedding vows. Chrissie, conversely, was hugely aware that a visible wedding was very much what the people of Marwan wanted to see and rejoice in. The first half of the day would celebrate her British identity with the blessing at the embassy followed by a formal wedding breakfast back at the palace. But afternoon would find Chrissie being prepared for a traditional Marwani wedding, which would be staged at the palace at dusk and followed by a big party.
Jaul broke off his conversation with his brother-in-law, Cesare, to focus on his bride’s entrance with dark eyes that swiftly turned to scorching gold. She was so beautiful in that gloriously feminine gown. For the first time he appreciated what the hole-and-corner wedding he had insisted on in London two years earlier had cost her. That had been no dream day for a starry-eyed bride, he conceded remorsefully. He had wanted to present his father with a fait accompli but marrying Chrissie in the bright spotlight of paparazzi publicity would only have made his father more bitter and hostile. In the end, though, his attempt not to rebel too publicly against his father’s edicts had only exacerbated the situation and had ensured that their marriage remained a dangerous secret.
As the embassy chaplain approached her, Chrissie could barely drag her eyes from Jaul’s strikingly handsome dark features. His lean, powerful physique sheathed in a light grey morning suit, Jaul was drop-dead gorgeous, but Chrissie had been even more taken with him when she had seen him wearing jeans at dawn to get down on the floor of the nursery and play with Tarif and Soraya before he began his working day. The twins chattered with excitement when their father appeared now, associating his frequent visits with the kind of fun rough-and-tumble games they adored. Watching Jaul play with their children warmed the cold spot deep inside Chrissie, which repeatedly sought to warn her that if she wasn’t careful she would get her heart broken again.
Jaul reached for her hand as the chaplain began to speak and Chrissie suppressed the treacherous swell of her insecurity. For a few seconds indeed, she was lost in the memory of their wedding day two years previously and of the joyful sense of security she had experienced as that ring went on her finger, a security that had proved to be sadly short-lived. Her rings were back where they belonged now because she had reclaimed them from Cesare’s safe.
Chrissie smiled, reminding herself that they were making a fresh start at being together and that, so far, Jaul was doing absolutely everything right. She didn’t need his love and devotion, she told herself impatiently. She would focus her energies on becoming the very best mother and Queen she could be, not on chasing soap-bubble dreams of romance. He had been her first love, for goodness’ sake, and they had only been students. That time couldn’t be reclaimed or relived and, anyway, would she even want to go back there? Back to the silly rows they had once had, rows redolent of their immaturity and inability to compromise?
One thing she did appreciate was that Jaul had changed. She wondered if what he had endured in the wake of the accident had made that change in him because he was considerably more tolerant and less domineering than she remembered him being.
More cameras flashed as Jaul escorted her out of the function room. In the limousine on the way back to the palace, he flashed her a charismatic smile and lifted a lean brown hand to acknowledge the crowds lining the side of the road. ‘One down, only one more to go. We will feel very much married by the end of this day.’
Her turquoise eyes brightened with amusement. ‘Yes...’
‘Tonight we’ll be travelling into the desert for a few days. I have to meet with the tribal sheikhs and it’s the perfect opportunity to introduce you to their families. While we are becoming an increasingly urban society, there is not a family in the country that does not have a connection by birth or marriage to one of the tribes. Their support is influential,’ he told her quietly. ‘Zaliha will travel with us as an interpreter for your benefit.’
‘Of course. I’ll have to get lessons in Arabic.’
‘It wouldn’t be of much use to you in the desert. The tribes speak an ancient dialect,’ Jaul told her ruefully and reached for her hand, disconcerting her. ‘I really do appreciate your can-do attitude to all of this.’
‘I’ll do whatever I have to do to be a good queen,’ Chrissie assured him, lifting her chin. ‘I’m not planning to embarrass you or the children either now or in the future.’
His luxuriant black lashes lowered over a brightly assessing gleam of gold. ‘A commendable goal but I have a rather more personal outlook.’
Chrissie tugged her fingers free lightly. ‘Have you really?’ she dared before she could bite back that cynical challenge. ‘I doubt very much that you see our marriage in personal terms. How could you? The ceremonies today are the ultimate publicity blitz calculated to please your subjects.’
‘What we appear to feel in public can continue in private. It doesn’t have to be fake,’ Jaul countered smoothly.
‘Let’s keep it simple, Jaul. We’ll both do our best in our respective roles and see how it goes,’ she suggested lightly.
‘As you wish.’ Jaul wondered what had happened to the outspoken and passionate young woman he had married. That Chrissie would never have settled for such prosaic goals. No, indeed she would have demanded his love and attention and shouted loudly if she failed to receive her due. Was the change
