The Chatsfield: Series 2

He spread his hands. “I’m not certain what you mean by that. Of course you have seen me.”

“I’ve seen the ruler. I have seen the sheikh. But have I seen the man?” She thought of him, trembling above her as he found his release, the intensity that had passed between them. She felt as though she had seen glimpses of the man, like the sun peeking out from behind the clouds. But a shaft of light shining briefly through the darkness did not make for a clear day.

“The sheikh is the man, the man is the sheikh, et cetera.”

“If there were no kingdoms, if there were no kings, who would you be?” she asked, her voice rough as she echoed the words he had spoken to her when he’d held her in his arms.

“It is a question that cannot be answered. For the fact remains that there are kingdoms. And I am the king of one of them. And I must do the right thing by my people.”

“And why is this the right thing? Why is marrying a woman you don’t love the best thing for your people?”

“The preparations are in full effect. I have given my word. Going back on that could be nothing but detrimental. Leila is... My sister is going through something. I can’t talk about it. It is not my secret. I failed one sister, Sophie. I failed to protect Jasmine. I will not fail on that level, not again. I have hurt too many people to ever risk it again.”

She could sense the desperation in his tone, read the urgency that ran beneath his words. And she could hear things that were not spoken.

“You are the strongest man I have ever met. You give more of yourself with every breath than I will ever be able to give in my entire life. I have spent years consumed with the idea of showing up some man who barely even cares that I exist. How is that even a life? What have I ever done for anyone?”

“You are here because of a friend, Sophie. Don’t think I have forgotten that. I don’t have a scandal for you. Not the one you were looking for.”

“It isn’t about that now. I’ll help Isabelle how I can. But I realize you don’t really know anything about the Chatsfields.” She had realized it for a while now, and she could barely bring herself to be angry about it. Because she had been doing something for a person she loved, and he’d been doing the same. But things were different now, now that she understood him.

Now that he had seen her naked.

“What is it about?” His voice was rough, frayed.

“Right now it just feels like it’s about you and me. It feels like...it feels like something I’ve never experienced before. I feel like a person I’ve never been brave enough to be before.”

“We needed to leave this in the desert.” He sounded tortured now, angry almost, but also desperate. And it was that desperation that she clung to. “We cannot do this here.”

“Please, just for one more night. Please be the man. Because the man is not the king. I want to see the man.”

“Sophie,” he said, his voice a growl now, “you don’t know what you’re asking. The man is better off dead and buried. He is nothing. He is selfish, destructive. He brought death upon his house. And he deserves to remain locked down so deep that he cannot breathe, much less move, much less resurface and destroy anything else.”

“No, I don’t believe that’s true. Because I think the man is wonderful.”

He rose, fire blazing in his eyes as he closed the distance between them. He reached down, wrapping his hand around her arm, tugging her up to her feet. “You are a fool.”

Perhaps she was, perhaps she was seeing things that didn’t exist. Or perhaps she was the only one who saw the truth. Perhaps she simply needed to make him see.

She rose up on her tiptoes, and leaned in, brushing her lips against his. The spark that burned between them quickly ignited, raging out of control the moment they made contact with each other. He tightened his hold on her, wrapping his other arm around her waist and pulling her firmly against him, crushing her breasts against the hard wall of his chest.

She tilted her head, deepening their kiss, her heart pounding out of control. She wanted to do for him what he had done for her, wanted to strip away the layers, strip away the obligation, every outside influence that had managed to wrap itself around him and reveal who he really was beneath it all.

No matter what he said, she knew that he was hiding himself. She knew she had to find him.

Because he had found her. And how could she offer him anything less?

She pulled at his shirt, desperate to have his skin against hers. Desperate to find that moment of clarity she had felt out in the desert. That moment of connection. So perfect, so unlike anything she had ever experienced before. He growled, and deepened the kiss, pushing her back against the wall, her back hitting hard against the stone surface. But she didn’t care. It didn’t hurt, on the contrary it felt wonderful. To have the intensity that burned inside of her matched in their movements on the outside.

He pulled her shirt over her head, giving himself over to this completely. There was no restraint in him, not now, and it was absolutely perfect. Everything she wanted, everything she needed. She wanted to release the man that he wanted to keep contained. Wanted to set him free.

And she damn well would.

She put her hands on his belt, working the leather through the brass buckle, then moving to the closure of his pants. She pushed them down his lean hips, taking his underwear with them, not even remotely shocked at her boldness. She would have been, only days ago. But not now. She had left her fear behind.

She had left her protection behind, too, and she was revealing herself. Now.

She lowered herself slowly to her knees, wrapping her hand around his hardened length, squeezing him gently. His breath hissed through his teeth, his head falling back, his Adam’s apple bobbing. She could tell he was on the edge, could tell that she was close to accomplishing her goal. Because while she might be the one in the submissive position, he was the one who was at her mercy. On her knees before the king, she was about to bring him to his.

She leaned in, flicking her tongue over the head of his erection. She had no preconceived ideas about this act, she had never given it much thought. Yes, the subject had come up in groups of friends at university. But she had often tuned them out. Because it simply hadn’t mattered to her, because she had other things on her mind. She would simply sit there, and nod, and giggle at the appropriate moment. All the while her mind would be somewhere else.

Right now, it was certainly in the present. And right now, she knew exactly what she wanted.

“Sophie,” he growled, his hand going to her hair, holding her fast. “Be very sure you know what you’re doing.”

A sense of freedom flooded her, something intense blooming in her chest, spreading outward. A feeling of strength, a feeling of confidence. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never done this before. I’ve never even fantasized about doing it before. I’ll probably do it wrong. But I want to do this with you.” For the first time, she felt completely at ease admitting that she wasn’t an expert, she didn’t feel the need to stumble through, pretending that she was in her element. She didn’t need to be in her element, not when she was with him. She simply needed to be.

“You couldn’t possibly do it wrong,” he said, his voice rough.

She leaned in, sliding her tongue more confidently now over the head of him. Because he had said she couldn’t do it wrong, and now she felt confident in that. Felt free in that. She parted her lips, and took him in deeper, running her tongue along his length, tasting him fully. She squeezed the base of him with her hand, continuing to tease him with her mouth.

He tightened his hold on her hair, tugging hard as she continued her sensual assault. She could feel the layers he’d wrapped himself in starting to fall away. Feel the grip he had on his control loosening, as his grip on her tightened.

He pulled up hard, and she froze. “Stop it, now.” She had never heard him sound so close to the edge, and the thrill shot through her, canceling out any discomfort she felt from his hold on her hair.

“Why?” She knew why, and that was the best part.

“Unless you want it to end this way.”

Her face got hot, arousal rushing through her. “That might be nice.”

“Oh, no, I can make it so much better for you.”

He took hold of both of her arms, and lifted her to her feet, before shifting positions, and sweeping her up into his arms. He held her tightly to his chest as he strode through the study, heading deeper into his quarters. She looped her arms around his neck, her eyes fixed on his. But he wasn’t looking at her. He was looking ahead.

She leaned in and kissed his neck, pressing her lips right over the place where his pulse throbbed.

He pushed open the door, and she looked away from him so that she could take in their new surroundings. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the size of the bed at the far end of the room. Being with him had been perfect, even in a pile of blankets, in a tent. This, this was a fantasy. A fantasy and a half. One she had never allowed herself, one that she almost ached over not having had before. Because it might have made the moment more poignant. Because it would have been the culmination of a dream, rather than the realization of all the dreams she’d never let herself have. Though this moment needed nothing to be more important. It was impossible for it to be more important. It was everything.

Her heart swelled in her chest as he deposited her on the bed, curling his fingers into the waistband of her pants and taking them down, along with her panties. He positioned himself between her thighs, his dark eyes blazing into hers. “I will take the time to explore you, later.”

They both knew there was every chance there would not be a later. But it didn’t matter. It made for a lovely fantasy, added to all the fantasies she’d never had before. She might as well have one now. In this moment, she might as well believe that anything was possible. In this moment, she might as well believe in the possibility of everything. She shoved aside all of her practicality, all of her cynicism, and simply embraced this moment.

She nodded. “Later.”

He kissed her deeply as he tested the entrance to her body with the blunt head of his arousal, sliding inside of her slowly. She clung to him as he did, as he closed the distance between them. He shifted, gathering her wrists in his hand, and pushing her hands above her head, holding them there, as he continued to kiss her. He flexed his hips, sending a spike of pleasure through her body.

She lost herself in the motions, and the feeling of him inside of her. He broke their kiss, lowering his head and taking one nipple in his mouth, sucking it in deep. He lifted his head as he quickened his movements, as he started to lose himself in his own pleasure. She loved that she could recognize that, that she could feel the control burning away. It was what she wanted, it was what she craved.

He released his hold on her wrists, adjusting his position so that he was holding her hands, his fingers laced through hers, holding them above her head as he continued to thrust deep inside of her. She watched him, watched as the lines of tension in his forehead deepened, before they finally relaxed, as he shook, gave himself up to his orgasm and released his hold on the world. As Surhaadi fell away, as his need to care for everyone but himself fell away.

She watched his face as he became Zayn. Nothing more.

And then she was caught up in the same storm, everything ripped from her as pleasure took over, as she joined with him at the summit, caught in a storm that consumed them both.

She held him close after, listened to him breathe, felt his muscles tremble beneath her fingers.

And with every bit of confidence she had, a confidence that was now placed in herself, in who she really was, and not just in her ability to fool people into thinking she was something they wanted to see, she knew what she wanted. She knew what she needed. She knew how she felt.

“I love you.”

CHAPTER NINE

ZAYN STRUGGLED TO catch his breath, the weight of Sophie on his chest suddenly so great he couldn’t breathe.

He pulled away from her, rolling out of the bed, cursing himself in every language he knew, cursing his own weakness. He had sworn not to touch her again, and now he had. And now this. A wave of shame washed over him, a sick feeling that slid through his stomach like tar, coating everything it touched.

If it were only him. If he were all that mattered, he would break his engagement. He would keep her forever. But there was Surhaadi. And Christine. And Leila.

And, most of all, Sophie. Who deserved something better. Something other than him.

“Don’t do this, Sophie. Please.” He didn’t know why he was pleading with her, he should have done all this bargaining with himself, he should have done it before he ever touched her, before he ever touched her for the first time. But he had given in so easily, and then he had given in again.

“Don’t do what?” She sat up, her green eyes rounded.

“You know exactly what. Don’t bring feelings into this. There is no place for them.”

“This is the only place for them. I told you, I’ve spent far too long hiding to start doing it again now.” She flung the covers away from her body, revealing her soft pale skin, skin he had just tasted, just touched. Skin he had no right to look upon, a representation of trust he had no right to.

He wished that she would hide again, because looking at her like this was like staring into the sun. Too intense, too bright, a light that was too clean and pure for him to possibly process.

“Are you really going to do this?” she asked.

“Am I going to do what?”

“Are you going to marry her? Are you really going to marry her for your country?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He pressed down hard on the wound in his chest that seemed to be flowing freely, stopped the bleeding. He shut it all down, redirected the walls that she had demolished only moments ago.

“You can’t live like this. You can’t live your life for everyone else.”

“Yes, I can. It’s what I should do. It’s what I was always meant to do, but it’s what I was too cowardly to do when I was a young man. But I do it now, I am determined to continue to do it. And a couple of brief moments of insanity are hardly going to change that. When Christine arrives here, I will confess what I have done. And for every moment hereafter I will be faithful to her. I will be faithful to my country.”

“That is no reason to take a wife. It is no reason to pledge fidelity to somebody. Because you want to show faith to your country? What about love?”

“What is love?” he growled, rage rising up inside of him, and he couldn’t quite figure out why. Why this was affecting him so deeply. Why did it hurt like he was being stabbed with a pike straight to the heart. “What does it matter, anyway? I’ve never seen it do any good. I’ve never seen it help a damn thing. Jasmine loved Damien. Do you suppose Leila loves James Chatsfield? Do you suppose it will do her any good?” He knew he was betraying too much, but he could not hold it back right now, could not stem the tide of anger that was pouring from him.

Dimly, he realized that he was raging against something far bigger than Sophie, that he was pouring it all out onto her petite frame, and yet he could not hold it back.

“What does love have to do with anything? What bearing does it have on the world, on the things I must concern myself with? Love cannot come into it. It is only duty.”

“What is duty without love? An obligation. It is empty.”

“It’s only empty if you don’t act on it. I am acting. I am doing what I must.”

“Do something for yourself.”

“Myself? I do not deserve anything. I had my years of debauchery, of serving me. It is over. And it is for the best.”

“Do you know, Zayn? I lived for that moment in my mind, when I would go up to my father and tell him the mistake he made. I directed my entire life for that moment. I stayed in New York because of that moment. Because I was going to claim what had been lost to me. I selected the school I went to for that reason. I worked hard for that reason. I took this job as a journalist for that reason. And suddenly I just...I don’t care. I built my entire life around that. Around a triumphant moment in front of a man who doesn’t care that I exist. I would give it all up for you. To be here, to stay here. I was going to stand before my father and ask him to choose me now that I was worthy. I’m standing in front of you and I know I’m not worthy. I’m not a princess, I can’t help you. I can’t help your country. But I love you. I’m not waiting until I feel like I’m worthy, I’m just asking. Because what’s the point of being afraid? What’s the point of trying to contort myself into something I’m not even sure I want to be? I can’t be a princess, but I can love you. And that’s what I’m bringing.” She spread her hands wide, totally exposed, totally open. It terrified him to see it. Because she was so unprotected, and he would be the one to take advantage of that. He would be the one to wound her. “This is all I have. But I will give it all to you.”

“I cannot accept it.” His throat was so tight, it was nearly closed. “I can make no other decision but the one that has already been made. I have promised myself to Christine, and I must keep that promise.” It was becoming harder and harder to remember why. But he knew that he must, because it served his country, because it didn’t serve himself. Because it would keep eyes on him while Leila figured out what to do with her pregnancy. Those reasons. He knew all of the reasons. And he could not forget them.

She nodded slowly, tears glistening in her green eyes. “Okay.”

He reached out and grabbed her arm, pulled her to him. “You are not alone. I swear to you, I will take care of you.”

* * *

Sophie looked at Zayn, her heart burning. She knew he was offering everything he could. At least, he was offering what he wasn’t afraid to offer. He was clinging to the idea of duty, because duty was important, she knew that. But she knew there were other ways. And she knew that for whatever reason, he was keeping himself from seeing them.

She needed to turn away from him. She needed to leave. But it was impossible. When he was offering to care for her, when he was there, bronzed, strong and naked. Everything she had ever wanted. A fantasy she had never had before. All of him, all of this. She’d had a goal, she had a dream, but it had been so narrow. So limited. Now, suddenly, she saw all of the possibilities, all of the things that she could want, and they were still out of reach. And even though she knew this would end, even though he was promising an end, she knew she wasn’t strong enough to leave now. Not while there was still some time.

So she stood, waiting for him to tell her to go. Because until he told her to go, she wasn’t going to move.

She breathed a sigh of relief when he closed the distance between them, wrapping his arm around her waist and bringing her into contact with his body. “I will take care of you.” His words were intense, steady, a promise she knew he intended to keep. Another duty he was adding to his list. “No matter how far we are from each other, no matter how the years distance us, I will make sure you lack for nothing.”

For a moment she simply let his words wash over her, a balm she hadn’t realized her soul had needed.

She said nothing, instead she stretched up on her toes and kissed him. She didn’t want any more words to pass between them tonight. She simply wanted to be held. She simply wanted to be with him.

He picked her up, and brought her back to bed. And for the rest of the night she thought of nothing but the moment.

* * *

When Zayn woke up the next morning to an empty bed, he was certain of two things. Sophie loved him. And he desperately craved that love. He didn’t know if he was equal to it. If he could return it in the way she deserved, but there was no limit to how much he wanted it.

So many years of wanting nothing for himself, and now that he did, he could think of little else.

Except for Christine.

Sophie was right. They would make each other miserable in the end because while they would both fulfill their function, they would never meet their deepest purpose.

Because when Sophie had said she loved him, he’d felt something shift deep inside him. It had changed him.

It had exposed his weaknesses. Brought them out into the light of day. Sophie didn’t let him hide. She made him face the truth, face himself. And he knew he could do the same for her.

But not for Christine.

Duty without love is void.

It would be so for both of them. An empty, wasteland of duty, dry as the desert heat.

But for a moment, when Sophie had spoken those words, he had imagined a future that did not stretch out before him, dull, lifeless and bleak. An endless stretch of time that would mean so little. Married to a woman whose face he could scarcely picture. Whose voice he couldn’t conjure up. Whose lips he had never tasted, whose body he didn’t want. Was he truly going to have children with her? Was he going to bind her to him knowing that all she would ever be was a political means to an end?

Could he truly consign himself and Christine to a lifetime of dry, empty duty?

He had been using Christine all this time. Using her to ensure his stability, using her to ensure the stability of his family. And certainly, she was using him, too, but there had to be more. He suddenly wanted more for them both.

And he knew no matter what, he could not marry her. Not now. Regardless of what happened with Sophie, and he still didn’t know what might, he couldn’t promise himself to Christine now.

His heart raged as he reached for his phone. His decision was made. It was not in line with his duty. It was not the most honorable.

But it was right.

CHAPTER TEN

SOPHIE WENT BACK to her room the next morning before Zayn woke up. She had no desire to repeat the scene that they’d played out in the tent in the desert. And she figured he would be in much the same mind-set today as he’d been then. Possibly worse. Seeing as she had pronounced her love for him and he had rejected it. Well, he hadn’t rejected it entirely, he hadn’t sent her away, rather he had offered to take care of her. And in some ways she found that even worse.

Things that had made sense last night now seemed mostly embarrassing in the cold light of day. But then, pride wasn’t the most important thing. The fact that she had tried was. Because she had to. Because it had been worth all of the potential humiliation to finally demand that somebody want her for who she was.

She heard her phone vibrating on the table and she crossed the room, catching her boss’s name on the screen as she bent down to pick it up. “Hello?”

“Sophie, we haven’t spoken in a while.”

Probably because she meant less than nothing to him. She was as low on the totem pole as it got, and there was no reason for him to call and check in with her when he had no interest. “I know.”

“I hope that things have been going well there. I hope that you have some good buzz about the wedding.”

“Oh, yes, great stuff about the wedding.” Just thinking about the wedding made her want to shove something sharp beneath her fingernails. “I’ve had a look at the menu, I’ve spoken to the coordinator and I even know which designer the bride is wearing. And I may be able to talk my way into getting a sneak peek of the gown. The future sheikha hasn’t arrived yet, but when she does...”

“There’s been a lot of curiosity swirling around the royal family because of this whole shindig.”

“Oh, has there?” It stood to reason, it was probably why Zayn’s protective instincts were in such overdrive. Though she had a feeling he was just that way all the time.