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were held up.
    She had already met the palace household, including Talib’s father, who had made her feel much more welcome than she had expected. So much so, the niggling doubts had crept away to the corners of her mind like secretive mice on the opening of a cellar door.
    ‘Kiss!’ The crowd roared from below. ‘Kiss!’
    Talib smiled as he gathered Abby into his arms. ‘This is the fun part.’
    His mouth came down and sealed hers with a kiss that was light and yet intense at the same time. She felt the stirring of his body against hers. It responded to her every time she came near, but while she was confident of his physical need of her, she desperately wanted him to respond to her emotionally.
    He was like his private oasis. Closed off. Guarded. Locked.
    Talib lifted his mouth from hers and turned with her to face the ecstatic crowd of well-wishers below. ‘What did I tell you, my little dove? They love you.’
    Abby smiled and waved back as a tiny ache settled like an anchor around her heart. What did it matter if everyone down there loved her but the one person who mattered the most to her didn’t?

CHAPTER EIGHT
    T HE WEDDING PREPARATIONS went into full swing almost immediately and at a dizzying pace at that. The palace officials scurried about organising invitations and accommodation for all the visiting dignitaries who would fly in for the wedding. The banquet hall was being redecorated in time for the royal wedding feast that would go on for days after the ceremony.
    Abby was measured for the ancient wedding dress of Dharbiri, a beautiful but heavy and ornate affair that had antiquity stitched in with every thread of gold and every glittering diamond that was fitted to the bodice. Putting on those robes during one of the fittings reminded her of the awesome responsibility it would be to be a royal princess. She was effectively giving up her freedom and her privacy for the man she loved.
    She hadn’t seen much of Talib, because she had been assigned separate sleeping quarters in keeping with the tradition of the land, and when they were together they were always chaperoned, which would continue until the wedding. It made her feel uneasy to
    not be able to talk freely to him. All her doubts and insecurities plagued her, but she had no way of addressing them. It was too early to tell him she loved him, but being alone with him would surely settle some of her doubts.
    She was appointed a lady-in-waiting, who saw to her every need. It was as if her old life had been put on hold while this new, exciting, almost surreal life played out like a fairytale.
    Abby had been at the palace only a week when the news broke about her pregnancy. She wasn’t sure how it had been leaked or even if it was just speculation, but the press ran wild with it. It was on every news report and splashed over every paper. It hadn’t been how Talib had planned to announce it, but once it was out there was no way of denying it. But surprisingly for such a traditional culture, the news was not received negatively. The prospect of a royal heir was too exciting to be overshadowed by moral rectitude.
    But the news of Abby’s pregnancy also triggered an intense, almost morbid interest in her background. An unscrupulous journalist unearthed some details of Abby’s mother’s struggle with addiction. Photos were published, gossip circulated. Rumours started.
    The pressure of pretending it wasn’t getting to her made Abby feel as if she was living a lie. Panic set in. Gripped her. Frightened her. Terrified her.
    This will be my life now.
    One of speculation and intrigue, gossip and slander. Everything she did or said would be documented and pored over. Every move she made, every smile, every frown, every grimace would be plastered over some newspaper or internet site. She would be hounded like prey on a daily or minute-by-minute basis.
    I can’t do this...I can’t do this ... .
    * * *
    Talib was going over some business in his study when