Modern Romance July 2018 Books 1-4 Collection. Sharon Kendrick

and she’d seen her husband’s black eyes roving greedily over her body before he deliberately lifted his gaze to hers.

      ‘You are not ill?’ he demanded.

      She’d shaken her head. ‘I heard a noise, that’s all. It woke me up.’

      He’d lifted his broad shoulders in apology, pointing to the discarded riding crop which had lain beside one leather-booted foot, which had been tapping at the marble floor with impatience. ‘I must have thrown that down with more force than I intended.’

      She’d wanted to ask him why. Just as she’d wanted to ask him whether he might break his cast-iron rule and take her into his arms and kiss her. Now. Here. No matter how damp and sweaty he was. She had held her breath for one long moment when such a scenario had seemed possible—if the darkening of his eyes and the hungry hardening of his lips had been anything to go by—before he’d given her a dismissive smile.

      ‘Forgive me for waking you.’

      ‘I don’t mind.’

      ‘You should. A pregnant woman needs her sleep.’ There had been a pause. ‘Go back to bed, Hannah.’

      The memory retreated as Hannah bent down to dry her toes, then pulled a silky robe over her head. Was that what happened in relationships? Were you always seeking something more, no matter how much you had? And wasn’t the danger that she could jeopardise what they did have, if she allowed these restless longings to take over?

      So she tried to count her blessings and to pray that some of Kulal’s icy reserve might melt a little. One morning, he had flown her to the north-eastern side of Zahristan, to his royal beach house, where they had sat beneath a shaded canopy and watched the glitter of the sun on the Murjaan Sea as they’d sipped fire-berry cordial. Their small contingent of protection officers had been entirely female, giving Hannah the opportunity to swim in the enormous pool which was surrounded by palm trees. The silken waters had rippled deliciously over her skin and she’d seen Kulal smile when she’d given a little squeal of delight.

      ‘Come and join me?’ she had questioned shyly.

      Uncharacteristically, he had hesitated before telling her he needed to make a conference call to New York, and that brief pause had been enough to make a flicker of hope enter her body. Because in that moment, hadn’t he been tempted by an intimacy which wasn’t just about sex?

      And the trouble with hope was that it was like a weed—it grew wildly with the slightest bit of encouragement. Hannah wondered if it was all in her imagination, or whether Kulal’s nocturnal visits were getting longer. Last night, it had been almost dawn before he had left the rumpled sheets to retreat to his own bedroom. Her eyelids had fluttered briefly open as she had watched him dressing in the dim light, longing for the time when he might spend an entire night with her. But she didn’t dare ask him outright. Not after the humiliation of their wedding night. Not when she suspected such an appeal would prompt the proud desert King into doing the very opposite.

      In the meantime, her pregnancy was progressing with textbook perfection. Each day her bump grew bigger, ticking off every developmental milestone along the way. The palace doctor declared herself delighted with Hannah’s progress during their regular consultations, though the Sheikh had been absent from all of these.

      ‘It would be inappropriate for the King to be present during such an intimate examination,’ Kulal had said in reply to her tentative query about whether he might one day accompany her.

      It was an old-fashioned point of view, but in many ways he was an old-fashioned man despite his western business dealings and cosmopolitan lifestyle prior to his marriage. He didn’t seem to mind that royal law decreed that the sex of their unborn child should be known only to the attending doctor, even though Hannah was longing to find out if she was having a boy or a girl. Sometimes she reflected on how different Zahristan was from the world she had grown up in.

      But somehow, despite all the odds, she liked it and found a peace there she’d never known before. She liked the quiet and beauty of walking in the palace gardens, or drinking her tea in the vast courtyard, with its cobalt-blue mosaic floor and the mingled scent of orange blossom and gardenia filling the air. She liked it when she was appointed a female aide and two female protection officers so that she was able to explore the ancient museums and artefacts in the nearby city of Ashkhazar, though she preferred to make these visits unannounced, so that there wouldn’t be too much fuss. And she loved the huge library in the palace itself because, for the first time in her life, she actually had the time and the opportunity to read.

      It felt magical to have endless rows of beautifully bound leather books at her fingertips and she began to read up more about Zahristan history, partly because she wanted to take her role as Sheikha seriously and partly because she wanted to understand Kulal’s land and, by definition, him. She read that he was from a long line of Zahristan kings from his father’s side and that his mother had been a princess from the neighbouring land of Tardistan. But there seemed to be gaps in the various accounts of his family history, even in the more modern publications—and it was only on a neglected shelf in a hidden alcove that she discovered a short biography about Kulal himself.

      Her eyes scanned the pages eagerly, her eyes drinking in the portraits of his hawk-like features and flashing black eyes. There were descriptions of his exemplary school record and his daring exploits when he’d run away as a teenager to fight in the fierce border battle with Quzabar. There was an account of his father’s lying-in-state and the political turmoil before Kulal’s subsequent accession to the throne, but practically nothing about his mother’s early death, other than the fact it was ‘tragic’. And if Kulal was the younger of twin brothers, as was stated, it didn’t explain why he had taken the throne instead of his older brother, Haydar. Hannah wanted to know, but instinct told her not to pry. That the answers she sought would only come about if she and Kulal grew closer as a couple—and wasn’t she attempting to help that process along, by increasing the amount of time they spent together?

      She’d quickly realised that Kulal working late into the evening before he came to bed was an evasive tactic. She realised that he preferred her to be waiting and ready for sex—she guessed because that ruled out the need for conversation other than the ‘do you like it when I do that?’ variety. She remembered those far-away days when she’d cleaned his suite in Sardinia when they used to chat about stuff. When once in a while he’d even teased her. Couldn’t they get back to easy conversations like that—and the sort of intimacy which didn’t involve her gasping out her pleasure as he drove into her eager body?

      She told herself that the only reason she’d decided to start waiting until Kulal returned to their suite before retiring for the night was so they could chat. But deep down she knew that wasn’t the whole truth. Deep down she realised she had started to care for her husband in a way he had emphatically warned her against. A way which felt frighteningly close to love, even though she told herself that wasn’t possible.

      But something had changed.

      She wasn’t sure how or when it had happened, because it wasn’t the obvious things which had made her feel so differently about him. Not the muscular body which transported her to heaven and back every night. Or the ruler in all his finery with people bowing before him. It was the man with the occasional flicker of vulnerability in his eyes before the shutters came crashing down—that was the Kulal who had captured Hannah’s imagination and then her heart. Was it so wrong to wonder if she could ever forge a tiny place for herself in his heart?

      Her silken robes whispered as she walked over to the desk where she’d left her book open and the dull thud of the outer doors of their suite told her that Kulal had returned. Instantly, she felt her heart begin to thunder.

      ‘Hannah?’

      The sound of his voice was enough to send desire rippling down her spine and Hannah struggled to keep the hungry tremble from her voice. ‘I’m in here!’

      He walked into the bedroom, appearing startled to see her sitting at the desk, a halo of golden lamplight surrounding her. ‘You’re not in bed?’ he questioned.

      ‘As