AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Home sweet home," she murmured, eyeing the ten feet tall stone walls, with razor wire on top.
"You become used to the security," Zayn said. His frustrating ability to immediately understand her thoughts and wishes was aggravating her immensely. Mainly because she no longer had any idea what made him tick.
"I doubt it," she said with a frown.
Zayn did too. He shifted in his seat, refusing to allow uncertainty to creep into his mind. He had once loved this woman, or thought he had. She'd been like a wildflower. More vibrant and effervescent than any person he'd ever met. Like the rarest and most stunning of orchards, she was unusually, completely unique and stunning. And he'd captured her, and brought her to live in a hot house.
If he hadn't felt such rage towards her, for her deception, he would never have been able to do it. In marrying her, he knew he had probably killed off the magical quality that had made him ache with love and desire from the first instant they'd met. But he'd done it anyway. Like a child who captures a beautiful butterfly and pins its wings to a foam board, for the pleasure of looking at it always, he had captured her. That same child would learn the hard way that in capturing the butterfly, everything that was breathtaking about it was lost. But it would not be like that with Julia.
He almost groaned out loud in annoyance at his thoughts. After all, his plan was not a spontaneous one. He had resolved to make her his again from the minute he'd opened that email. Well, now she was. He was not going to regret the circumstances he'd been forced to create to ensure her cooperation. Eventually, she would adapt to live in Naman, and life as his wife. She would still be happy. Wouldn’t she?
“Is th
is your home?” She was craning forward in the car, looking out of her window, at the mansion he’d moved to. It was a little overwhelming, he supposed, even for someone like Julia, who had grown up in an aristocratic manor.
“Your home, too,” he reminded her sternly, trying to see it through her eyes. It was a Frank Lloyd Wright designed property, and it was a study in grandness and efficiency. The architect had used the physical environment to make a home that loomed up out of the ground and over the city. The size was essential. Though he had the palace, he often entertained here, as many of his guests found it less intimidating.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, taking in the strangely shaped windows, the rocks that gave way to darkly tinted glass and huge copper panels. “It’s strangely beautiful,” she repeated again, wondering how it was so.
“Come, let me give you a tour.” He stepped out of the car as soon as the door was opened and held his hand out for Julia to take. He was surprised, and frankly relieved, when she placed her own small hand in it, and allowed him to help her from the car. He had expected a period of resentment and resistance. The sooner she realised her situation was permanent, the better.
Zayn had waited for this moment for years. He was not going to allow a moment of weakness and pity for his wife to take away the sweet, sweet joy of claiming his prize. He intended to drive the memory of any other man from her mind. She was his, and had been always.
Julia tried to ignore the shards of lust that were crashing through her body, but now, in his home country, and holding his hand, she felt besieged by physical longings. Her bones were liquid, her legs suddenly clunky to maneuver. She tried to appear calm as she slid her ray-bans on to the top of her head with care, so that she didn’t mess the sleek bun one of her newly acquired assistants had spent so much time styling earlier that day.
“Shall we start with the bedroom?” He suggested with a quiet intensity.
Julia did not show a flicker of emotion as she lifted her eyes to his. “As you wish.”
It was strange. He didn’t know what he’d expected. He would never force a woman to his bed. It went against everything he believed it; everything he’d been raised to value. And yet he’d been waiting for her to make him fight for her; on some level, he’d been wanting her to make him prove that he deserved her.
Zayn tugged on her hand, ignoring his security agents and pulling her in the direction of his home. “I must say,” he said honestly, “I thought you would want to argue with me about this.”
Julia shrugged her slender shoulders. “I know.”
“You know?”
She let out a shaky breath. “Obviously you like to say things to me that inspire my frustration. I figure you like arguing with me.”
His smile was genuine. “I think I must.”
“Exactly.”
Quickly, it became a frown. “And so because I like it, you have decided not to do it?”
She bit down on her lower lip, a little overwhelmed by the grandeur of the entrance hallway. Zayn squeezed her hand in reminder and she turned her attention back to him. “Pretty much.”
His eyes flared with an emotion she didn’t understand. “I do not think you realize it, but Julia, you do not wish to have me as an enemy.”
“I don’t think you realize it, Zayn,” she parroted back sweetly, “but I’m your wife now, and you have to put up with me. Even if I drive you crazy.”
His laugh was a low, seductive sound in his throat. “Oh, you drive me crazy all right. Come, let me return the favor.” And he pulled her into the circle of his arms, against the hard planes of his body, so that she could feel the stirring of his erection.
A noise from somewhere else in the house made him freeze. He shook his head slowly from side to side and stepped back from her. “I am afraid you will have to wait, habibte.”
Julia tried not to let her disappointment show. “What is it?”
“I would put money on it being my brother,” he said with a grimace. “Amal has been desperate to meet you since I told him we were married.”
