It was just him and her and they could have been anywhere. Here, or in her bed, or under the stars in the desert. Time stood still, or perhaps it accelerated; Chloe couldn’t have said.
He broke away from his group and strode towards her, and slowly, speaking began once more, filling the room, but not Chloe’s ears. She was in a void of time and space, waiting.
She had only seconds before he arrived to rally her defenses, to remind herself that they weren’t living a fairytale, no matter how it might seem to onlookers.
“This is a beautiful dress,” he growled, dipping his head forward, so only she could hear the words. “But I look forward to removing it later.”
Her heart skipped a thousand beats.
“Your highness,” she bowed a little, her eyes holding his, her smile droll.
“Thank you for coming,” he said, more stately, but with a burning look of passion drowning out the civility of his words.
“I was asked,” she said with a shrug. “I didn’t think not arriving was an option.”
“You don’t want to be here?” He prompted, shooting her a sidelong glance.
“On the contrary,” she sucked in a breath. “I’m your wife. I should be here.”
His nod of approval showed that this echoed his own thoughts.
“Have you seen Malik today?” She asked as they moved deeper into the room. She’d been to enough of these events to know that she wouldn’t be alone with her husband for long. A tide was already surging towards him.
“Earlier,” he said with a nod. His eyes met hers and she felt the sadness in them.
“He was well, I thought,” she said softly.
“Yes.” The smile was grim. “Just weak. He could only talk for a few minutes before a coughing fit required him to rest.”
Chloe grimaced. “It was the same for me.”
“I cannot think he has much longer.” He spoke without shifting his expression but Chloe heard the desperation in the words and she understood.
“It’s like watching the coming of a storm,” she said huskily. “The sky is darkening, the rain will inevitably fall, and though you may seek shelter, there’s no stopping the sky from doing what it will.”
“Yes,” he grunted. “That’s exactly what it is. There is an … inevitability to all of this that is hard to watch.” He pulled a face. “But what else can we do?”
“Nothing. Just be there for him. Tell him we care for him and that his country is in good hands.”
He nodded, but his look took on a new meaning. “And deliver him with proof that our family will remain strong and unchallenged.”
A group of dignitaries approached at that moment, and Chloe was saved from making a reply, but anxiety thickened in her throat. She would know very soon if this was the month that had led them to conceive. She didn’t feel any different, but she had no idea if she would, or if pregnancy would just sneak up on her. All the reading she’d done had indicated that women often had pregnancies that were similar to their own mother’s, but Chloe had no idea what her mother’s experiences had been.
She moved away from her husband when the opportunity came, reaching for a glass of iced tea from a waiter, and standing back a little to watch proceedings.
Raffa was an exceptional statesman. Despite his wild, animalistic passion and the sense that he was of the land, he was able to control a room with a single look. She found him desirable at any point, but like this?
From the corner of the room, a movement attracted her eye. It wasn’t out of the ordinary, but perhaps it was an ancient and finely-honed survival instinct that had her shifting her gaze towards it.
A man, almost as tall as Raffa, and with a similar complexion, moved towards him. She saw the moment Raffa recognized the man, and though her husband continued to speak, she noted the tension emanating from him, the look of contained anger.
Fascinated, she sipped her tea and watched from beneath hooded lashes. Would the man approach Raffa? Or watch from a distance, as she was?
Neither.
He bypassed the group and his eyes latched to Chloe, so that she realized he intended to speak to her.
She didn’t betray with even a flicker of her lashes that her husband had given her cause for concern; that she was letting Raffa’s reaction be her guide as to how to welcome this person – whomever he may be.
“Your highness,” he said when he was close enough to be heard. He bowed low, and though it was obsequiousness itself, she doubted the sincerity of the gesture. “I have not had the pleasure of meeting you in person, though I have heard such flattering reports from one who knows you, perhaps, amongst the best of all.”
“I see,” she said, arching a brow. “And you are?”
“You may call me Goran,” he said with another bow.
“Goran.” The name wasn’t familiar to her, but then again, Raffa had so many acquaintances, how could she remember all of them? “Are you a minister in my husband’s cabinet?” She asked, her smile pasted in place with sheer willpower alone.
“No. We are old friends,” he said, and she knew him to be lying. She could feel the insincerity in the words in a way that made her skin crawl.
“Well, Goran, it was a pleasure to meet you,” she said with a dose of her own insincerity.
“You aren’t leaving already?” He prompted, lazily, but with an intensity that kicked her adrenaline up a notch. “Aren’t you curious how I know of you?”
“Your highness,” a more familiar voice called her attention and she looked to her left to see a man she’d met a handful of times striding towards her. His warm smile was reserved purely for her.
“Kalim,” she said, remembering his name at the last moment.
He bowed towards her. “I beg your pardon for interrupting,” he said, “but the Sheikh has asked me to introduce you to his
