man to be without the comfort a woman can provide, not good for Kharidja to be without the comfort of an heir. Every sovereign needs a consort. ‘
‘You would do well to remember that topic is taboo, Firas.’
His man of business blanched but pressed on resolutely. ‘Forgive me, Highness, but I must speak up, for the good of our kingdom. You need a wife. I have seen how you are when you are together. There is clearly something between you. It would be unconventional to say the least, but taking the Frenchwoman as your wife would meet with your people’s approval, I’m sure of it.’
‘Enough, Firas!’ Zafar interrupted tersely. ‘You go too far. I strongly suggest you restrict yourself to carrying out my wishes.’ Zafar handed the man the document outlining the proposals for Colette’s repatriation. ‘Make the necessary arrangements,’ he said, dismissing him with a curt nod.
As the door closed, Zafar returned to the window, staring out sightlessly at the courtyard. Never had five weeks passed so swiftly. It was not just the pleasures of the flesh he and Colette shared, though each night it seemed that they reached new, unimagined heights of ecstasy. Just thinking about it made him hard. That first night together, the exquisite pleasure of their joining, it had been almost overwhelming. Almost. He had been so close to spilling himself inside her, to losing himself in her. He had taken care not to do so again, even though the primal urge to possess her completely was almost impossible to resist. He could not risk the consequences. He did it for Colette’s sake, he told himself, though he knew it was as much for his own. To surrender in such a way would be folly when he knew she must leave. They were from different worlds, he reminded himself, and soon they must each return to their own.
Though he kept up the pretence of teaching her, he was learning far more from Colette than he cared to admit. Never before had he been with a woman so liberated by her sensuality, so unreserved in her expression of it. My pleasure is your pleasure , he told her, and never before had the words held such truth. Knowing that he had been her first true lover made him feel ridiculously pleased with himself. Thinking that she would take another... No, he could not think of that.
But they had shared more than just passionate nights. As Firas pointed out, she was more often than not by his side during the day, a friend and a confidante. He had never had either. He had not realised how lonely and isolated he had become. Colette had blurred the boundaries between night and day, prince and man.
He would miss her terribly. There, it was said. He would miss her, but there was nothing to be done about it. She did not belong here, and he could not, in any event, keep her with him. That, he had known from the beginning. Two years ago he had sworn never to take such a risk again. He would honour that vow.
* * *
Colette pushed the hospital plans to one side. She would never see it completed. It was unlikely that she’d even be here to see the foundations laid. A month, Zafar had said it would take to make arrangements for her return, and it had already been five weeks. How much longer did she have? She hadn’t asked, because she didn’t want to know the answer.
How was it possible to fall in love in five short weeks? Sighing, she made her way out of her quarters to take her favourite walk along the battlements. It was impossible not to fall in love with a man like Zafar, she thought, leaning over the parapet to watch the date harvest. She had loved Leon in a gentle way, but she had never been in love before. With Zafar it was different. What was surprising was that it had taken as long as five weeks for her to lose her heart to him. Not that it made any difference at all, for he did not love her, and even if he did, he deserved much better than a penniless foreign widow. A prince deserved a princess.
But he did not love her. Every time
‘You would do well to remember that topic is taboo, Firas.’
His man of business blanched but pressed on resolutely. ‘Forgive me, Highness, but I must speak up, for the good of our kingdom. You need a wife. I have seen how you are when you are together. There is clearly something between you. It would be unconventional to say the least, but taking the Frenchwoman as your wife would meet with your people’s approval, I’m sure of it.’
‘Enough, Firas!’ Zafar interrupted tersely. ‘You go too far. I strongly suggest you restrict yourself to carrying out my wishes.’ Zafar handed the man the document outlining the proposals for Colette’s repatriation. ‘Make the necessary arrangements,’ he said, dismissing him with a curt nod.
As the door closed, Zafar returned to the window, staring out sightlessly at the courtyard. Never had five weeks passed so swiftly. It was not just the pleasures of the flesh he and Colette shared, though each night it seemed that they reached new, unimagined heights of ecstasy. Just thinking about it made him hard. That first night together, the exquisite pleasure of their joining, it had been almost overwhelming. Almost. He had been so close to spilling himself inside her, to losing himself in her. He had taken care not to do so again, even though the primal urge to possess her completely was almost impossible to resist. He could not risk the consequences. He did it for Colette’s sake, he told himself, though he knew it was as much for his own. To surrender in such a way would be folly when he knew she must leave. They were from different worlds, he reminded himself, and soon they must each return to their own.
Though he kept up the pretence of teaching her, he was learning far more from Colette than he cared to admit. Never before had he been with a woman so liberated by her sensuality, so unreserved in her expression of it. My pleasure is your pleasure , he told her, and never before had the words held such truth. Knowing that he had been her first true lover made him feel ridiculously pleased with himself. Thinking that she would take another... No, he could not think of that.
But they had shared more than just passionate nights. As Firas pointed out, she was more often than not by his side during the day, a friend and a confidante. He had never had either. He had not realised how lonely and isolated he had become. Colette had blurred the boundaries between night and day, prince and man.
He would miss her terribly. There, it was said. He would miss her, but there was nothing to be done about it. She did not belong here, and he could not, in any event, keep her with him. That, he had known from the beginning. Two years ago he had sworn never to take such a risk again. He would honour that vow.
* * *
Colette pushed the hospital plans to one side. She would never see it completed. It was unlikely that she’d even be here to see the foundations laid. A month, Zafar had said it would take to make arrangements for her return, and it had already been five weeks. How much longer did she have? She hadn’t asked, because she didn’t want to know the answer.
How was it possible to fall in love in five short weeks? Sighing, she made her way out of her quarters to take her favourite walk along the battlements. It was impossible not to fall in love with a man like Zafar, she thought, leaning over the parapet to watch the date harvest. She had loved Leon in a gentle way, but she had never been in love before. With Zafar it was different. What was surprising was that it had taken as long as five weeks for her to lose her heart to him. Not that it made any difference at all, for he did not love her, and even if he did, he deserved much better than a penniless foreign widow. A prince deserved a princess.
But he did not love her. Every time
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