Arranged: A Masters and Mercenaries Novella Page 7

  “You read the letters? Are they still around?”

  Hanin put his fork down. “I kept them for history’s sake. Your mother asked me to keep them from you, but I always worried she would change her mind. So I kept them instead of trashing them. Three years ago she asked about the young woman, asked me if I knew her. I said no, but I did know a way her majesty could get to know her. And I gave her the letters.”

  “And I fell in love with Day,” his mother said quietly. “I found out she was here in Loa Mali and I did everything I could to bring her into my sphere so I could watch over her. When the time came, I made my move to bring her back to you. I don’t know if I was wrong to do what I did in the beginning. I don’t know if she would have been a steadying hand or a distraction, but I do know you need her now.”

  “You had no right to keep those letters from me.” But he kept his tone calm. He hated the fact that he couldn’t let his rage fly. And he truly loathed the reason why he couldn’t. How could he be angry with his dying mother? There was someone he could deal with. “Hanin, you became my employee the day my father and brother died. I consider following my mother’s orders in this case tantamount to treason. Would you like me to have your head cut off?”

  The man had gone a nice shade of gray.

  His mother gasped. “Kashmir!”

  Weston merely chuckled. “You have the right, Your Majesty. Still, I think a public execution might overshadow the wedding.”

  Hanin stood. “I did my job. I serve this country and the palace. Do you have any idea how hard you make my job? She was right to do what she did. Getting you to focus is like being forced to work with an untrained monkey.”

  “Hanin!” At least his mother was shocked by all of them. “Please don’t refer to his majesty in such a fashion or he’ll be right to fire you.”

  “He’s planning on firing me anyway.” Hanin stepped back. “The minute you’re gone, I’ll be gone, too, and he’ll probably get rid of his bride as well. A man like him doesn’t change. I feel sorry for your poor bride. She’ll either find herself divorced in a year or the object of everyone’s pity because there’s no chance that you don’t go back to your partying ways within weeks of your mother’s death. Perhaps before. After all, it’s not like you ever cared what she and the world thought of you anyway. Her majesty is trying to save the country, but you won’t care. You’ll ruin us all in the end. I always saw that.”

  “Hanin, please,” his mother began.

  “Oh, no, Hanin, you continue on.” It was good to see his lord chamberlain for who he really was. “Let me know exactly how you feel.”

  Tears had started in his mother’s eyes. “I can’t plan this without him.”

  Damn it. She shouldn’t be planning anything at all. She should be resting, trying to maintain her strength.

  Fucking fuck and fuck fuck.

  Kash stood and attempted to moderate his tone and his expression. All the sweet words in the world wouldn’t mean a thing if he looked like he felt—like he wanted to murder someone. He had to be the king, and the king remained calm and made reasonable decisions. “Hanin, please accept my apologies. It is true that I believe my bride and I will be happier with a new lord chamberlain after we’re wed and I am in the palace most of the time. I would like to do things in a modern way, and you have always emphasized the traditional. Perhaps that is why we seem like we’re at cross purposes. I do, however, promise to make your retirement a lucrative one. And I certainly won’t ever speak of beheading you again. That wasn’t well done of me.”

  Hanin turned and walked back to the table. “I will stay for your mother’s sake.”

  His mother reached over and patted his hand as though he was a child and had done something well for the first time.

  “Shall we talk about the guest list? I’ve got it down to seven hundred.” Hanin opened his notebook.

  “I’ll need all those names. Every single person will have to be vetted,” Weston replied. “We’ve got almost no time so I need a finalized list by this afternoon.”

  “Seven hundred.” It horrified Kash. The one good thing he could think of about his two-week engagement was going to be the smallness of the wedding. No one could put together a true royal wedding in two weeks. “No. We have so little time and there are no plans. We should keep it small. No more than twenty.”

  His mother’s face lit up, and for a brief moment he saw the woman who had raised him, youthful and full of joy and strength. “No plans? I’ve been planning for years. Everything is already in place. It will be the grandest wedding, Kashmir. I’ve already found someone who will release a hundred doves as you and Day are pronounced husband and wife. And, of course, we must be seen observing all the rituals.”

  He shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

  Weston was watching his mother. “Rituals?”

  “Yes, Loa Mali has many beautiful rituals for the bride and groom.” His mother put her hand over her heart. “The Palm Ritual is lovely. I have many pictures from your father’s and mine.”

  “Mother, it’s the twenty-first century. I’m not hiding in a group of palm trees getting my arse cut up so I can steal a woman who has already agreed to marry me. Nor will I allow my best friends to tie me up and beat my feet with fish.”

  What Loa Mali had was a group of crazy antiquated and downright ridiculous rituals meant to ward off evil spirits and generally make everyone getting married think twice about doing it in the first place.

  He saw the glint in his mother’s eyes and knew he was in trouble.

  * * * *

  Day sat back with a smile, the steam from the spa deliciously warm. “It’s supposed to ward off bad spirits and build the groom’s strength for the wedding night.”

  Phoebe Murdoch’s lips curled up as she laughed. “Fish? They’re going to beat Kash’s feet with fish and that will give him virility?”

  It was silly, but she suspected the queen mother was going all out with this wedding. “I suspect the practice was created by fish merchants. One of our main industries is fishing, but we have a problem with bycatch. These are the unwanted fish that are caught by our commercial fishermen. Several of our local fish are quite horrible to eat, but legend has it those fish are imbued with the potency of our ancient sea god, so they’re prized for wedding and fertility rituals. Not only will Kashmir have his friends beat him with the fish, he’ll have to eat a good portion of one raw in order to ensure our wedding night is productive. And since we haven’t yet agreed to have relations on our wedding night, I fear it will be for nothing.”

  “You’re not sleeping with Kash?” Chelsea Weston sat on the bench to Day’s left. “I would love to have seen the look on his face when you told him. That man thinks he’s God’s gift to women. Not that I don’t like Kash. He’s fun to be around, but he does think a whole lot of that face of his.”

  Did he? Day wondered about that. “I think a lot of it is armor. I knew Kash before he became the king. In some ways he did everything he did to differentiate himself from his older brother. He became the playboy because Shray was so serious. But you have to understand that playboy prince was studying theoretical physics at Oxford when I met him, and he didn’t get in because of his name. Kash is incredibly smart.”

  “Oh, I know that,” Phoebe replied. “When Jesse first met him, he was close to a working prototype of a car that ran on water.”

  Day had been grateful for the company when she’d been told Chelsea and Phoebe would accompany her. Normally this day would be spent with Day’s sisters and her female in-laws-to-be. She had some cousins, but they had mostly moved to Europe or the States. She’d been unable to see herself spending this time with the little mice who worked with her at the department. They were sweet women, but her two assistants were mostly biding their time until they could find husbands. She liked these two women. They were smart and strong of opinion.

  It was interesting that she also thought they would be quite submissive when it came to sex. But th
en she had started to wonder the same thing about Kashmir.

  “I’d heard a rumor that the explosion in the Arabian Sea wasn’t an accident.” She hadn’t talked to him about it the night before. They’d sat together and drank and talked about their old friends. She hadn’t wanted to bring up anything that might make him sad or angry. He’d been in a good place, and she’d been the one to take him there. She wasn’t one to undo her own work.

  How would he feel if he knew she was looking at him as if he was a potential sub to top?

  Chelsea shook her head. “Not an accident at all. It was all the work of a group of major douchebags known as The Collective.”

  Phoebe stared at her friend. “You are the worst CIA employee in the world. You know that’s probably classified.”

  Chelsea shrugged. “It’s also good gossip, and I don’t work for them anymore. Right now, I’m a happy housewife. Well, a housewife who works ten hours a day writing code for the new business. And let me tell you, dealing with Adam is not a picnic. He thinks he’s way smarter than he is. Satan’s right about him.”

  Chelsea talked a lot about Satan. Day was fairly certain it was an oddly affectionate nickname for someone, and not that Chelsea had a weird religious bent. Still, she wanted to shift the flow of conversation back to the important stuff. “Why would this Collective come after Kashmir?”

  Phoebe and Chelsea seemed to have an entire conversation through frowns and the narrowing of eyes.

  Finally, Phoebe gave in. “Fine. It is good gossip and I don’t work for the Agency anymore either. Also, you’re about to become like the head of the country and stuff, so I think you could probably find this out on your own. The Collective was a group of the world’s biggest companies and they basically Star Chambered the rest of the world. They helped each other out, you know. Some business needed to sell their firearms, so The Collective helped out by starting a civil war somewhere. They manipulated stock prices, practiced all the worst things humanity can do. Kash’s experiments would have cost the oil industry everything, so they sent an agent to blow the lab up.”

  “They were also supposed to kill Kash,” Chelsea explained. “But my Simon jumped off a cliff and saved him.”

  “I think Big Tag would say that’s a gross oversimplification of that story,” Phoebe continued. “But Jesse does say it was pretty cool. It was actually Kayla who got the king out.”

  Chelsea shook her head. “Don’t.”

  Phoebe had flushed. “Yeah, uhm, but mostly Si. It was a team effort.”

  Day could guess what they were covering up. She hadn’t been blind for fifteen years. His womanizer reputation had been the reason she’d held back during college. Until that moment when he’d allowed her to take control, when she’d realized she might truly have something to give him that no one else could. Of course, at the time she hadn’t understood that there was a word for what she needed.

  Dominance.

  “I know what he used that boat for. He kept his harem out there. So did he seduce her after she saved him? Did he offer to pay her off with his body?” That sounded like Kashmir, the manwhore.

  Chelsea winced. “She might have been a spy at the time, and he thought she was a supermodel.”

  Day let her head fall back as she laughed. It was a good play by the Agency or whoever had hired this Kayla person. Going at Kash through his cock was the only way to go. “I pray his cousin found out about that. Chapal runs the country’s technology and security. I believe most of his migraines come from Kashmir’s many women. I’m afraid your husbands taking over security even for a brief period of time will be difficult for them. Kash acts out when he’s angry. I expect him to misbehave a lot before this wedding actually occurs.”

  “And after?” Phoebe was studying her.

  It was easy to forget these two lovely women were both former CIA. Of course, that was likely exactly why they’d been so good at their jobs. “After, we will find our way. I suspect we will be friends and try to get along as much as possible. He’ll have his life and I’ll have mine.”

  “That sounds terrible,” Chelsea shot back.

  But Day had come to some terms with it. She hadn’t expected to marry at all. Now she had the prospect of children. Oh, they might be implanted with the medical equivalent of a turkey baster, but they would have two loving parents. “I never thought I would marry when I made the decision to stay here on Loa Mali and work.”

  “You’re beautiful,” Phoebe remarked. “You’re intelligent and kind. Why would you think you wouldn’t marry?”

  “There aren’t a lot of prospects on this small island, and despite all of our wealth and our freedoms, we’re still quite old fashioned in some ways. The king has done a good job by steering parliament away from laws that would curb a woman’s freedom, but there are still many who believe a wife’s place is at home. I’m not that woman. It would have been difficult to find a man here who wouldn’t want me at home. Home is a place I go to after work. It’s not that I look down on women who do stay home. My mother did and I loved her very much. I simply am not built that way. I wouldn’t find the same satisfaction that she did. As I believe she would have hated working the way I do. We need choices. We need to be free to be who we are.”

  “A queen isn’t free,” Chelsea said.

  She’d thought about this, too. “But a queen makes a contract with her people. She knows what she will do and what is not acceptable. I quite like a contract. My marriage to Kash will be contracted. We will have our roles, agreed upon between both of us.”

  “There is nothing wrong with a good contract, but don’t write out spontaneity.” Phoebe adjusted her towel. “You cared about Kash once. Why not see if you can again? Some men like Kash settle down after marriage and make lovely husbands.”

  “She should know. Her brother was the only person I’ve met who was worse than Kash. Well, I mean he didn’t have a harem boat or anything, but Ten tore through some women, if you know what I mean,” Chelsea confided. “And now he’s faithful to his wife. Whose name is Faith. Yeah, that’s terrible. Sorry about that.”

  “Faith is wonderful,” Phoebe replied. “And Chelsea’s right about my brother. He was a horrible manwhore. Kashmir is actually a nice man. I’ve always thought the right woman could settle him down. All the women I’ve ever seen around him are too superficial. They’re flighty things. I think he picks them because he never has to get serious with any of them. At least that’s what my husband thinks.”

  “Si thinks he’s…” Chelsea bit her bottom lip and sighed. “Sorry. New friends.”

  “Thinks he’s what?” Day was intrigued. She’d heard a bit of gossip concerning these friends of Kash’s. She wasn’t sure how to ask without embarrassing anyone, but perhaps direct was the best bet. “Does your husband, who I would guess is the top, think Kashmir would be happier as a bottom?”

  Phoebe’s jaw dropped.

  Chelsea merely laughed. “Yes. Yes, that’s exactly what he thinks. A lot of us do, but we wouldn’t say it. He’s a little sensitive. He’s been to Sanctum, but he just played around. I’ve heard he’s gone to several clubs around Europe and plays, but at least outside the actual bedroom he tops.”

  That was what she’d been a bit afraid of. Yet last night when she’d taken control of the situation, when she’d seen to his comfort and given him direction, he’d responded beautifully. He’d been happier at the end of that night, though she would have bet he hadn’t realized what she was doing.

  Phoebe curled her legs underneath her. “So, how long have you been in the lifestyle, Mistress?”

  Well, that hadn’t taken her long. “Ten years. I met a man in graduate school. He was lovely and he had certain needs that I found I enjoyed indulging. We broke up because I came home to Loa Mali. Not much of the lifestyle here. I go on retreats two or three times a year. I have Mistress rights at some clubs in Europe. I find it relaxing, but I worry my husband-to-be will prove very traditional in this sense.”

  “How
will you know until you try?” Chelsea asked. “I doubt anyone has ever offered to top him before. Not in a serious way. You don’t have to pull out a whip.”

  “You want me to be the sneaky top.” What she’d been so far.

  “I think some subs need to be eased into what they need,” Phoebe explained. “I know I did. I thought it was distasteful until someone convinced me to try. And I probably still wouldn’t have found myself if I hadn’t been with a man I truly connected with. I can certainly see how Kash might need it. Submission for some of us is relaxing. It’s a way to find a place where we don’t have to think. For all his playboyness, he still has an enormous amount of pressure on him.”

  “He did back then, too. I can see now it was why we worked. I was different than the other girls. I thought he liked to talk to me because we came from the same place, that he merely missed home. Now I look back and realize he liked it when I would take charge. I didn’t force him to make all the decisions. It’s hard to make all the choices. And I wouldn’t want a sub who needed me to direct him in his daily life. But sexually, I prefer to be in control. Again, it’s the way I’m built, but it can be hard to be different.”

  It could be impossible. Lately, the trips to her clubs had been unsatisfying. She needed a permanent partner, someone she could connect with for more than a weekend or a few weeks. Someone who needed her.

  She was coming up on a time in her life when she would have to decide if she would suppress that need for the rest of it. Perhaps that was why she’d given in to the queen mother so easily. Being the queen meant having a nation that needed her, a whole island of people she could fight for.

  Or perhaps she’d done it because for years she’d dreamed of Kash kneeling for her, asking her for discipline, his face peaceful when she gave it to him.

  That one kiss had changed her life in ways he couldn’t have dreamed of.

  Should she give her marriage an actual shot?

  “He might surprise you,” Phoebe said. “Ease him into it. Like I said, it really worked for me. He’s already comfortable in the lifestyle. It doesn’t scare him or make him squeamish. I know the few times he’s visited Sanctum, he tends to like to watch some of the heavier scenes. But when it comes time to play at anything beyond spanking or light scenes, he won’t participate even when there are other Doms to supervise and teach him.”