The wedding had been small, nothing like his brother’s extravaganza, but everyone had said it was romantic, the way the prince had fallen in love with the daughter of his father’s archenemy thus uniting what had once been the two biggest tribes in the country. Zach hadn’t thought of it that way at the time it was going down, but the advantages were obvious on a political level. On a personal level his mother seemed to take great delight in the ‘love match’ so he had remained silent about the real reason behind their union .
A union he’d had the power to prevent when Nadir had informed him that he’d come up with a plan to extricate him from it. Zach knew it would have been what Farah wanted. Hell, it was what he wanted. So why hadn’t he done it? Especially with his brother about to become the next king; it would have meant total freedom for him, which he had now firmly denied himself.
Nothing made sense, not the churning feeling in his gut, nor the way Farah made him feel so hungry for her. As if she was the last woman in the world for him.
Well, she is, his conscience reminded him, and you will be the first man to touch her.
Something he found himself increasingly impatient to do. Probably he should be a little worried about his eagerness to bed a woman who so obviously didn’t like him, but he wasn’t. They might not have started this marriage in a conventional way but he had no doubt that she would please him. As he would please her once she stopped being so prickly about everything. *#*
She was an intriguing personality, his new wife— headstrong and handy with a sword, as well as brave and fiercely loyal, with a keen intelligence all tied up in one delectably feminine package he was straining to unwrap.
Nadir’s comment about his deliberately choosing the wrong women in the past came back to him. Was it possible? He never would have said so before but he also knew that Amy had never stirred the level of feeling in him that Farah did.
Scanning the milling crowd he easily located Farah across the room talking with his mother. She looked striking in a long-sleeved cream gown that skimmed her slender frame and ended at the floor. A whiff of something far more insidious than desire curled through him as he watched her. It gave him pause and, as if sensing the swirl of emotion coursing through him, his lovely bride glanced at him from beneath her long lashes.
Her eyes flared briefly as he took her in and Zach could almost feel the shudder that went through her. As much as she might not like to admit it, she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. His blood heated, driving everything else out of his head except bedding her.
‘Drink, little brother?’
Cursing under his breath, Zach arched a brow at his brother. He knew Nadir felt sorry for him. He knew he wasn’t in love with Farah and since finding love himself he’d turned into some sort of agony uncle. But he didn’t want a drink. He didn’t want anything to dull his senses for his wedding night to come. ‘No, I’m good.’
Was it too early to leave? He glanced at his watch. They’d been at the reception for an hour; surely that was long enough.
‘Imogen was wondering where you intend to go for your honeymoon.’
Honeymoon? Interesting question and one he hadn’t even considered. He’d spent the last three days in back to back meetings trying not to think about sex before marriage. Now he realised that a honeymoon would be the perfect excuse to take Farah away from the worries of Bakaan and the reason behind their marriage. A chance to start fresh.
But where to go? Paris? New York? The Seychelles? No, wrong time of year for— Suddenly Damian’s birthday invitation swung into his mind. Ibiza? Could he take her to Ibiza?
‘I wouldn’t recommend it.’
Not realising he’d spoken out loud until Nadir replied, Zach frowned. ‘Why not?’
‘It’s a bit...wild. But why would you— Ah...’ His brother smiled. ‘Offshore racing.’
Zach shrugged. ‘I am still the team owner,’ he pointed out. ‘But it’s Damian’s birthday. I should be there.’
Nadir’s brows rose. ‘You’re going to spend your honeymoon at a mate’s birthday party?’
‘Of course not,’ Zach grated; he wasn’t that selfish. ‘The party is one night and we’ll have the whole week. What’s wrong with that?’
Nadir held up his hands at Zach’s aggrieved expression. ‘You’re the expert on women, not me.’
‘Glad you finally admit it,’ Zach growled. Ibiza was the perfect idea: fun, carefree and totally different from Bakaan. What could possibly go wrong?