“Why didn’t you tell me about these?” She asked stonily. She couldn’t look at him, so she simply extended a hand in his direction, waiting for him to take the pictures. He didn’t need to. The images were burned into his brain, so that one quick glance at the paper told him what she had discovered.
“You have remembered?” He ran his hands through his hair, and came to stand beside her.
“Yes,” she hissed, whipping around to face him now. “I’ve remembered everything.” Tears stung her eyes and she dashed at them angrily. “You’re an arsehole!”
He flinched but Zayn was a master of emotions, and the more emotional she became, the more important he found it to conceal what he felt. “Calm down, Julia.”
“Calm down?” She sobbed harshly. “What the hell, Zayn? What are these pictures?”
His face was cold. “You tell me. You are, after all, the one who emailed them to me.”
She blanched beneath his words. “I didn’t.” She shook her head fiercely. “I’ve never seen these pictures before in my life.”
“Why lie now? When there is so much water under the bridge? After all, we are husband and wife. It was years ago.”
“I mean it, Zayn. I have no recollection of this. I certainly didn’t send the images to you.”
He made a frustrated hissing noise under his breath. “I’ve waited so long for your explanation, and this is all I am to expect? A lie? And not even a very convincing one?”
“You really think I’d be so awful as to go to bed with Andrew, take photographs, and email them to you, the man I believed I was madly in love with at the time?”
“All evidence points to that conclusion,” he said frankly.
“Why would I do that?”
He scanned her face thoughtfully. “I believed it was because you’d been raised selfishly. That you wanted more of my attention than I was able to give you, and so you tried to earn it by making me jealous.”
For some reason, Julia laughed, though she was not even close to amused. “You’re kidding me? You’re a bloody genius, and that’s what you came up with?”
She spun back to the view and gripped the railing with both hands. “Why didn’t you talk to me? Then, I mean.”
“And give you what you wanted? You know I have more pride than that, Julia. To beg at the feet of a woman with so little regard for her body and her dignity…”
“I can’t believe this.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “So this marriage was your way of getting me back for some years’ old betrayal?”
“Not just that,” he contradicted honestly. “I always thought you would make a perfect royal wife.”
She shook her head angrily. “I told you the day you ‘proposed’ to me that I don’t want to be Queen.”
“And I said nothing,” he reminded her firmly. “I made you no promises.”
“But you knew how I felt. If you cared about me at all, why did you let me go through with this?”
“Because I wanted you,” he said honestly. “And I was prepared to do whatever it took to bring you to Naman as my wife.”
“Why?” She asked quietly, rubbing her hands along the smooth metal of the balustrade.
“Because I wanted you.” He repeated slowly.
“Like a possession,” she remembered with a shaking voice.
Zayn didn’t answer. Though he had known it was imminent, in some ways, he had not been prepared for the return of her memory just yet, and he certainly wasn’t ready to answer questions about the photographs.
“Amal has wanted to abdicate for years. It stands to reason your country will accept the transition more readily if you appear to have settled down. Married, maybe even with a child on the way.”
“Yes.” His eyes glowed in his symmetrical face and Julia fought the tide of nausea rising in her.
“But Zayn, you must have had any number of women begging to marry you.”
“The circumstances of our marriage made me believe you would always be loyal to me. After all, without my assistance, your father would be destitute by now.”
She nodded, sick comprehension dawning on her. “You really did want a wife you could control.”
“It’s more than that. I wanted you. Completely. I hadn’t stopped thinking about you in four years. I knew I had to marry you.”
“So you forced me to marry you. Real suave, Zayn.”
“Did I really have to force you?” He grabbed her shoulders and spun her around to face him. His eyes trapped hers in his analytical gaze and she felt a huge wall of sadness hit her in the face.
“What do you mean?” She asked, though she knew.
“You might not have slept with him, but you ended up in bed with Andrew. And I still couldn’t stop wanting you, despite despising you for your betrayal. I believe you despised my tactics, but are pleased with the result.”
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “The result? Being married to you?”
“Exactly.”
She turned her head away from him resolutely. “You’re wrong.”
“Then explain your reaction to me last week. When you woke from your coma, you were jumping with joy that I was your husband. You told me I’m the love of your life.”
Her mouth gaped. How dared he use that against her? “And you told me you loved me! What were you thinking, Zayn? You’ve been playing a part this last week. Why? Once you had me as your wife, why pretend to be so doting and devoted?” But she didn’t need him to answer. Realisation dawned on her in an unwelcome rush. “You wanted to know about Andrew. You thought I might tell you in my amnesia fogged state. That’s why you were asking me about him yesterday. Oh my freaking God. I can’t believe you’d go to these lengths… we slept together, Zayn!”
“At your instigation,” he reminded her defensively.
“I thought we were in love! I thought our marriage was as it seemed!” She shrugged out of his arms and took a step backwards. “How could you do this to me?”
“Stop.” He held up a hand imperiously, knowing it was essential that he take control of the situation. He expelled a long, calming breath. “You’re nearly hysterical, and I have no patience for it. I will leave you to calm down, now.” He began to walk slowly towards the house.
“Stop? Stop? I’m nearly hysterical?” She stormed after him, and planted herself squarely between him and the elegant building. “You’re damned right I’m nearly hysterical. Everything has been a lie! You ruined my life and enacted some barbaric revenge plan on mis-information. You schemed to make my dad’s company fail, so that you and you alone could bail him out, and in doing so buy me! All because you were angry that I’d apparently cheated on you? Well, newsflash, Zayn. You were wrong! It never happened. On my life, and my father’s life, I swear to you, Andrew and I have never so much as kissed.”
He regarded her intently, but not by a flicker of his expression did he show any softening to this woman he’d married. “Then how do you explain these photos?”
She lifted her eyes to his face cautiously. “I can’t.” She thought back to that night. “That night is a complete blur.”
His look was scathing. “Another convenient memory lapse?”
“There is nothing convenient about it.” She winced in pain. “I had some champagne, and then everything went blurry.”
Zayn crossed his arms over his chest, but his mind was going into overdrive.
“Anyway,” she tilted her chin proudly, “I don’t think I’m the one who owes you an explanation. It wasn’t long after that photo that you started seeing woman after woman, making sure to get your picture in every gossip magazine in the world. How did you think that made me feel?”
“Honestly? I hoped it would hurt you.”
She made a noise of indignant complaint. “Why?”
“No one cheats on me and gets away with it. It’s as simple as that.”
She pressed her lips together. “I didn’t cheat on you though. I swear.”
“Yes, you’ve said as
much already.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“Frankly, no.” He pointed to the incriminating pictures. “Whatever happened, you ended up half naked in bed with a man who is obviously besotted with you.”
“So that’s it, then? On that basis, you believe I deserve whatever punishment you see fit to dole out to me? God, Zayn, how could I have ever believed I was in love with you?” She couldn’t stand it a moment longer. She turned her back on him and fled into the house. She kept running, until she’d reached the secret sanctuary at the top, where they’d spent that first disastrous night. It had been a sign of what was to come, only she hadn’t known it then. She hadn’t known that pain and misunderstanding would litter their marriage.
The office was nothing like Zayn had expected. Set on the outskirts of East London, the small legal aid building was dilapidated and disorganized. He waited, conscious that he made the small waiting room seem like a doll’s house with his broad chest and long legs. If it hadn’t been for his desire to dot all of the ‘I’s and cross all the ‘T’s, he wouldn’t have bothered coming.
But he was missing an important detail about his wife’s past, and he wouldn’t relax until he knew it all.
Not that he expected her to be vindicated. In fact, it was what he feared most. If it turned out that the photographs had not been what they appeared, he would never forgive himself for what he’d put her through. What he’d put them both through.
He didn’t need to worry too much on that score. After all, how likely was it that she’d been entirely innocent? It was her bed. Her body. Her email account.
“Sir? Lord Cottee will see you now.”
Zayn rose and crossed the reception area, not at all aware of the appreciative inspection the receptionist gave him. In his jet black suit, he made quite the picture, but Zayn was used to women’s attention. There was only one woman’s stare that had ever been able to set his body on fire.
“I’ve asked them to drop the title,” Andrew said with an apologetic flop of his unruly blonde hair. He ran his fingers through it, combing it carelessly to one side, before extending the hand to Zayn.
Andrew’s dark blue eyes were skittish, and Zayn wondered briefly if he was still on drugs.
“I imagine it would be a little intimidating to your usual client list,” Zayn agreed genially, taking Andrew’s hand and pumping it once. It cost him, to behave civilly to the man who had been to bed with his wife, but he managed it.
“Not to you, though?” Andrew asked, indicating for Zayn to take the seat opposite the desk, as he eased himself into his own office chair.
Zayn didn’t comply. “My title rather outranks yours,” he said seriously.
“Of course.” Andrew leaned back in his chair and made a show of straightening his tie. Zayn watched through narrowed eyes. The blonde man was nervous. Zayn was not in the mood to offer comfort. He was going to go straight in for the kill.
“Tell me about these photographs.” Zayn pulled his phone from his breast pocket and handed it to Andrew. The images were on screen, and Zayn watched intently as Andrew flicked through them. His cheeks were pale, his expression suddenly even more unsettled.
“Oh, God.” He squeezed his eyes shut and held the phone aloft.
Zayn took it and then crossed his arms across his chest. “Tell me everything, Andrew. For God’s sake, tell me what happened.”
Andrew forced himself to look at the other man. “Does Jules know?”
Zayn felt the heavy weight of regret getting heavier. “She sent them.”
“No.” Andrew shook his head earnestly, and the mop of hair fell forward once more. “No, she didn’t. I did.” His Adam’s Apple bobbled in his pale throat as he gulped in pained recollection.
Zayn let the words filter through his mind, and slowly, he sat down opposite Andrew. “Explain how you have these photographs of my wife, and why you sent them to me. Explain immediately.”
Andrew nodded. “Of course. Look, mate, I would have told Jules sooner, but there didn’t seem to be any point. You’d obviously moved on, and I thought she would too, one day. I was as shocked as anyone when you guys announced your engagement. But I just thought you’d worked through it all. That it was all in the past.” He raised beseeching eyes to Zayn. “It was stupid. In my defense, I was pretty much permanently high as a kite back then.”
“I know. I had you investigated.”
“You did?” Andrew let out a low whistle.
“Of course. I loved Julia. I might have been furious that she’d slept with another man, but I still wanted to be certain she was safe. What I discovered about you left me unsatisfied.”
“Rightly so,” Andrew concurred with sorrow. “I was a mess. In fact, it’s thanks to Julia that I’ve finally got my life sorted.”
“I’m pleased you feel your life is more balanced, but I came here to find out about the specific circumstances that led to these photographs being taken, and ending up in my inbox.”
“Right, of course.” Andrew took a sip on his coffee then spat it back into the cup. “Stone cold,” he said apologetically.
Zayn nodded impatiently.
“There’s no way to sugarcoat this,” he said with a self-recriminating frown. “I got Julia drunk. Intentionally. She can’t handle more than a sip of liquor, as you must know. I laced her champagne with vodka. And lots of it.”
Zayn’s head snapped as though he’d been punched. “I didn’t expect you to say that.”
“No. I suppose not.” Andrew licked his lips nervously, though he had no idea how close Zayn was to reaching across the table and unleashing a violent punch. “Look, I never intended to do anything to her. She has been one of my best friends for years. But… I wanted… I mean… presumably you’ve guessed that I’m in love with her too?”
Zayn narrowed his eyes. “It had occurred to me.”
“I thought I was getting somewhere. She and I were spending more time together. Then you came out of nowhere and she was lost to me. You were all she ever talked about. I simply thought I might be able to … cause trouble for the two of you. With you off the scene, I hoped she’d come back to me.”
“She didn’t though.”
“No. She never so much as looked at another guy after you. Not only that, she was miserable. Oh, not miserable, like normal people. It’s Julia, after all. She has the temperament of an angel, and she loves life with a passion. But there was always a darkness within her, after you left, and it was all my fault.” He took in a deep breath. “I was so close to telling her, so many times, but I knew she’d never forgive me.”
“Do you think you deserve forgiveness?” Zayn posed the question to Andrew, but he was really asking it of himself.
“No. Not in a million years. Hell, I’ve been waiting for the axe to drop for years. Is she angry?”
“She will be when she learns the full story,” Zayn promised.
“Please, just make sure she knows I never intended to hurt her.”
Zayn narrowed his eyes. “Didn’t you? By your own admission, she was madly in love with me. And yet you sent me – Sheikh of Naman, a conservative Kingdom – pictures of Julia in bed, half-naked, with another man. You must have known it would be a death knell to our relationship. How could I, a Sheikh, put up with such a betrayal? So what did you think she’d feel? Overjoyed?” He lowered his head into his hands as the full, sprawling mess laid itself out before him. Julia had been the victim of Andrew’s scheming cruelty, and then of his, and she was the innocent in all of it.
“I hoped she’d transfer her affections to me, and that, yes, I’d make her happy.” Andrew looked guilty. “But it doesn’t matter now. You guys are back together. You’re married and happy. That’s the important thing, right?”
Zayn stood, and fixed Andrew with a glare that would have made a rhinoceros feel small. “Thank you for explaining things to me, Andrew. Please don’t ever contact my wife again.”
And despite what the other man had done to h
er, he couldn’t help smiling ruefully as he imagined Julia’s outrage when she learned that her husband had just broken up with one of her friends. Because Andrew had been right. Julia, sweet, effervescent, happy-go-lucky Julia, would have found it in her heart to forgive Andrew, despite the damage he’d wrought.
But ultimately, it was all at Zayn’s feet.
If he hadn’t been so proud! If he’d had the courage to call the woman he loved and demand an explanation, it would all have been resolved.
He couldn’t change the past, but he could damned well apologize for it. He’d only got off the flight from Naman a couple of hours earlier, but he wasn’t going to cool his heels in London any longer than he had to.
He leaned forward and commanded his driver to return to the airport. He was going home. He just hoped his wife would hear him out.
Chapter Twelve
“Zayn?” Julia froze in the middle of the dining room, her expression impossible to read. She was wearing one of the more formal dresses he’d given her, and it looked heavenly on her petite body. “You look awful,” she observed frankly, as she took in his tired looking face, unbrushed hair, and crumpled business shirt.
“Thanks,” he drawled with a curt nod. He placed his briefcase down inside the door, and moved slowly towards her.
Julia, anxious and nervous, stepped backwards. “Amal and Adina are coming for dinner,” she said warningly. “I thought you might be them.”
“Can you cancel? We need to speak.”
Julia’s eyes were haunted. “No. I can’t cancel, even if I wanted to. Adina said she had something important to tell us.”
Zayn honed in on her phrasing. “You don’t want to cancel?”
“No,” she hissed at him, angrily.
“Why not?”
“Where have you been?” Her voice was hollow, her eyes round in her expressive face.
“Trying to get some answers.”
She stared at him, and it was obvious to Zayn she was waging a mental battle. “You mean you weren’t with another woman?”
Zayn would have laughed because it was so ludicrous, except she looked terrified, and he wanted to ease her burden. “Of course I wasn’t. You’re my wife. Why ever would you think…?”