Because there between her heavy white breasts, glittering and gleaming in the candlelight, was the answer he had been seeking for so long, the diamond he had prayed these last days for his land to return to him.
Never had the desert failed him.
And despite his doubts, it hadn’t failed him now. His fingers slowly traced her neck, then picked up the heavy pink stone, his face expressionless as finally he held the jewel he had sought for so long. His mind was whirring. Here was the reason he had not been able to focus—the desert had sent the winds, the desert had continually sent him back to her, back to the stone, back to all he had been seeking.
‘This necklace is beautiful…’ He was having trouble keeping his voice even. Maybe she had found it when dressing, maybe one of his relatives had perhaps left it forgotten in a jewel box…
‘Thank you.’
“Where…’ he cleared his throat ‘…did you find it?’
‘Find it?’ His eyes jerked up at the question in her voice. ‘I didn’t find it. It’s mine.’
‘Yours?’
‘It’s my favourite thing…’ Effie smiled, reclaiming the jewel from his grasp and, holding it between finger and thumb, she gazed at it fondly. ‘It’s probably just glass, not worth a bean, but it means the world to me.’ She let the diamond drop, and it nestled in its resting place between her creamy bosoms. His eyes were drawn to its magnificence, the candlelight making it glimmer and shine as only a diamond could, and he felt awash with fear almost that she had this in her possession and was completely unaware of its importance… ‘I wear it all the time.’
‘You didn’t earlier,’ Zakari pointed out. ‘I’m sure I would have noticed.’
He saw her cheeks pink, a tiny shy smile dancing on her full lips as she answered. ‘It didn’t seem right to, given what we were doing… It was my mother’s, you see—she left it to me.’
There was a frantic conversation going on in his head, warning him, alerting him, to tread carefully, but not by a flicker did he betray his anxiety, his expression nothing more than mildly curious as he again picked up the jewel between his thumb and finger, then, holding it in the palm of his hand, he examined it closely and for Zakari there was absolutely no doubt—his search was finally over.
Again the desert had delivered, his distraction these past days had been merited—it hadn’t been Effie clouding his mind, it had been the desert guiding him, leading him back to the Stefani diamond.
Now, all he had to do was claim it.
‘Sit…’ Dropping the stone, he watched as it fell back against her pale skin, his eyes dragging back to hers. They sat on low cushions, Effie moving to serve the food. ‘Allow me…’ He poured her the champagne.
‘Aren’t you having one?’
‘I don’t drink…’ Zakari explained. ‘It does not mean that you cannot.’
‘I’ve never had champagne.’
‘Enjoy, then!’
He watched her take a tentative sip.
Watched as a flood of pink soon warmed her cheeks.
‘You said your mother left you the necklace.’
‘She did.’
‘And your father…’
The blush that spread across her face had nothing to do with the champagne… Her beautiful blue eyes suddenly downcast, the candlelight cast dark shadows on her cheeks, making her eyelashes impossibly long.
‘I don’t have a father.’
‘They broke up?’ he asked and she gave a small jerking nod.
‘Do you ever see him?’
‘No.’ Effie didn’t like where this conversation was leading. She wanted romance, she wanted what they had once had, yet Zakari was grilling her as if she were sitting some sort of test.
‘Have you ever seen him?’
Effie shook her head. ‘Can we talk about something else, please?’
‘I want to get to know you…’ Though Zakari flashed a smile it didn’t quite meet his eyes and the tone of his voice reminded Effie unequivocally that she was being spoken to by the King. ‘So you never saw him? But surely he supported your mother…’
‘They broke up before I was born,’ Effie gulped.
‘Do you know his name?’
Her cheeks were on fire, tears flashing in her eyes as shame swept over her. ‘No!’ The word was a mixture of a sob and a shout, her frustration not just at Zakari’s line of questioning, but at her mother’s vagueness over the years. The one piece of information she had so desperately sought from her mother had constantly been denied her, and it hurt and shamed her even now. ‘She said that she had fallen in love, but had known from the start that it could never last. I think he must have been married or something…’ A solitary tear rolled down her plump cheek. ‘So, no—I don’t know who my father is.’
Zakari could see her discomfort and distress and chose not to pursue it.
For now.
Aegeus… He topped up her champagne, then took a long drink of iced water. His dark eyes were black with hatred as he thought of the man who had treated his stepmother so cruelly—a hatred that, for now, Effie must not see.
How had he not worked it out before?
There had been more than just forbidden emotions involved—here in front of him was the result of that forbidden union .
She was Aegeus’s spawn!
‘Is everything okay, Zakari?’ Effie checked, wiping her tear away with the back of her hand. She’d been longing for this night, but since they’d sat down all it had been was question after question. The tenderness of before was markedly absent and Zakari seemed different somehow; though he was talking to her, she could sense his distraction.
‘Of course…’ He forced a smile, saw the tension in her features and quickly moved to right it. ‘How could it not be?’
Regal. When he had seen her dressed, her hair glossy, her face made up, it had been the first word that had come to mind—and with good reason.
Royal blood flowed through her veins.
No wonder the old bastard had died of a heart attack, Zakari thought darkly. No doubt Aegeus had realised that his putrid secrets were about to come spewing out.
Revenge. Zakari’s smile was genuine now as again he topped up her glass. He had known it was close, but finally it was actually here.
With the jewel now his, he could rule both Calista and Aristo.
Once the jewel was his, Zakari reminded himself, his tongue on the roof of his mouth as he pondered his next move. The answer came to him in a trice.
‘Marry me.’ It was not a question—kings did not have to ask twice, so why was she smiling and shaking her head?
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’
‘I have never been more serious.’
‘Of course you’re not—’ Effie smiled ‘—but it has been nice to pretend for a while.’
‘Effie, I do not joke about such things—I am serious.’ He watched her eyes dart, saw her face pale as she realised that he was. ‘That is the reason for all the questions tonight—you will understand I need to know your history if I am to take you as my bride.’
‘We can’t…’ She gave a nervous laugh. ‘I am a palace maid—the people would never accept me…’ Flustered now, she stood up, the game over, the fantasy ruined, now that he’d taken it too far.
‘I am King of Calista,’ Zakari warned. ‘I get what I want.’
Yet still she shook her head, half walking, half running from his table, and had there been a flicker of doubt as to her status, for Zakari it was extinguished then.
Royal blood did flow through her veins—there was an innate strength about her—and Zakari faced a fresh challenge now to convince her to be his wife.
And if there was one thing Zakari relished, it was a challenge.
‘These days with you…’ he caught her shoulder as she made to leave ‘…have been the happiest I have known. Our lovemaking, you cannot deny it was special—you bring me peace…’
‘Special!’ Effie gaped at him. Today she had come alive, her whole body, her life, her soul even, felt different. As wondrous as it had been, though, as much as she might think she loved him, she had never expected that love to be reciprocated. It had never once entered her head that their time together had been as magical for Zakari as it had been for her, that he might feel the same. ‘It was more than special. It was everything! More than anything I had dreamed possible…’
‘Tell me…’ Zakari implored. ‘Tell me how I made you feel.’
‘Beautiful,’ Effie breathed, lost in his gaze, dizzy with the turn of events.
‘Loved perhaps?’ he said softly.
He saw her blink rapidly, saw her throat tighten as she took in his words, saw the beautiful jewel between her breasts—and knew it was now his.
‘You love me?’ Effie frowned.
‘And you love Calista,’ Zakari continued softly, silkily evading answering. ‘You love the people of Calista. Effie, with you beside me, with you as my wife, I know I will be a better king.’ He wasn’t lying—though Zakari’s version of honest differed from most! ‘With you as my wife I will be a better ruler for the people—for all of the people.’