that the first time the King saw you it was obvious that he was noticing you as well.’
Molly wondered if that was true, if it was possible that the same awareness that had initially electrified her had also affected Azrael. While musicians took their seats, dancers trooped in and tossed sweets to the guests. Azrael took a seat on the stage beside her as a table was arranged in front of them and Zahra excused herself.
‘Zahra’s been a wonderful help,’ Molly confided. ‘Explaining everything, translating for me. I didn’t make any mistakes.’
‘Everything at an occasion like this is new to you. Don’t worry about making mistakes,’ Azrael responded quietly.
A veritable feast of food was brought to them and Molly ate sparingly, too conscious of being the centre of attention to relax, but as the evening wore on and she watched Azrael take part in an astonishingly acrobatic traditional dance with actual swords her tension gradually ebbed because all around her people were happy and obviously having a good time. Every so often Zahra would approach her and bring people for her to meet, and the emeralds that still glowed round her neck were complimented many times and clearly a highly recognisable symbol of Djalian royalty that the guests liked to see on display.
They left the continuing festivities in the helicopter. ‘Where are we going?’ she asked Azrael.
‘You’ll see,’ he parried. ‘I hope I have made the right choice. Butrus thought I was crazy. The normal option would have been to remain in the encampment for the night.’
But Molly was grateful for any choice that took them away from the noisy partying and the almost suffocating attention of so many people. Privacy, she appreciated, was a gift Azrael rarely enjoyed and it would be the same for her because the local media would publish their wedding photos. At the same time, now that the cameras and the audience were gone, how would they be together and how would Azrael behave?
Azrael lifted her out of the helicopter because she was struggling in her capacious layers of brocade and silk and very much looking forward to changing into something more comfortable and shedding the heavy jewellery. In the darkness she couldn’t see where they were. All she could see was an actual burning torch flaring against a wall.
‘Where are we?’ she asked because she could still see no artificial light and it was very quiet. As she drew closer to the torch she saw that the wall was a rock rather than an artificial creation and her brow furrowed in confusion.
‘It is a surprise. The helicopter will pick us up again in the morning.’ Azrael hesitated. ‘I brought you back to the cave for the night...’
A cave? The cave? Molly hinged her dropped jaw shut again, grateful for the darkness. ‘Wow,’ she said chirpily as if it were the best news she had ever heard, because she was not stupid, after all.
If Azrael was taking her back to the cave for their wedding night it was because he believed that was romantic and, since he was far too practical to be what she would have deemed a natural romantic, it signified a feat of imagination and effort on his part that she had to admire...even if she hated it.
‘The stars are beautiful and the moon is full,’ Azrael pointed out with pronounced determination as they trudged across the sand by the light of his cell phone.
My goodness, he’s trying—he’s trying so hard to make this special and you are an ungrateful cow, Molly scolded herself furiously. But to be fair, he had wrong-footed her because she had been planning to tell Azrael that she thought it would be wisest if they stopped having sex until they had both decided where their marriage was heading. Why? Because sex with Azrael killed her brain cells, she thought wildly, knowing there was no way she could drop the sex ban on him when he’d gone to the extreme lengths of taking her to a cave for the night. I mean, how lucky am I to be the woman who gets to spend another night in the cave?
A clutch of robed men moved away from the front of the cave, bowing to them both and addressing Azrael in their language. ‘They are honoured to guard us tonight,’ Azrael translated.
Molly contrived a brilliant smile and passed on into the cave...and found it transformed. There was a bed, a proper bed and lit lanterns everywhere. A seating area with rugs was arranged around a small fire as well as a table with covered dishes. Towels were heaped helpfully by the pool edge. Her contrived smile blossomed into a genuine smile and she spun back to Azrael to say spontaneously, ‘You’re not crazy. It was a wonderful idea.’
Smiling brilliantly, Azrael lifted her off her feet and set her down on the side of the bed.
‘How on earth did you get a bed out here?’ she whispered wonderingly.
‘With the help of the same tribe who once brought supplies here for my mother and I,’ he told her, watching as she tugged off her headdress and set it aside, shaking her head so her copper tresses spilled in bright spirals across her pale skin. She toed off her shoes and settled back against the heaped pillows, emerald earrings gleaming in the flickering candle light and acting as a reminder of something he had forgotten.
Azrael dug into his pocket to retrieve the ring box and handed it to her. ‘I had it made to go with the necklace. I intended to give it to you before we signed the marriage contract but we were never left alone.’
‘Better late than never,’ Molly quipped, flipping open the box with inquisitive eyes, which widened at first sight of the huge oval emerald surrounded by diamonds. ‘My word, this is gorgeous.’
Long brown fingers eased the ring out of its velvet bed and installed it on her wedding finger.
‘Thank you,’ Molly said warmly, understanding that the ring, given in private in contrast to the royal emeralds, was a personal gift.
No, she acknowledged, it very definitely wasn’t the right moment for a serious discussion about whether or not their marriage had a future. He had made such an effort to please her that she was touched and surely a lasting future was more than implied by such an approach? I want to keep you. And she very much wanted to keep him, she conceded helplessly, watching him ditch his cloak and his head cloth and visibly shed the tension of the day.
‘Would you mind if I took a dip in the pool?’ Azrael enquired very politely. ‘It’s warm in here and it has been a long day.’
‘Of course not,’ she said, her body starting up a guilty hum at the very idea of him stripping. That very first glimpse of him in the same cave had turned her into a committed voyeur.
It was their wedding night but he was probably exhausted because he rarely enjoyed more than five hours of rest. Determined to get more comfortable, Molly stood up and began to remove the heavy emerald brocade robe.
‘Allow me,’ Azrael murmured, lifting it from her taut shoulders. ‘Keep the emeralds on. It is a joy to see you wear them as I imagined.’
The hands she had been lifting to remove the weighty necklace dropped again and she settled back on the bed, striving not to look as though she was watching him undress when that was exactly what she was doing. He shed his tunic and stepped out of the loose linen pants he wore below, shedding his boxers at the same time, and the light fell on that long, elegant back she had so appreciated when she was half-unconscious and her breath betrayed her with a sudden indrawn hiss that made him whirl around, an ebony brow lifting in query.
‘Your back...’ she muttered hot-faced, sliding off the bed to approach him and step behind him, fingers lifting to trace the paler slashes of old scarring that
