More Precious than a Crown

Zahid was the only man who did.

‘I loved your speech,’ Trinity said, her words a little stilted, for she was cross with Zahid for flirting when he was about to be wed. Yet she was cross only from the neck up. Her body had seemed to overlook the fact he would soon be marrying the very second that she was in his arms.

‘You’re the only one who liked it. Your father looks as if he wants to kill me.’

‘It’s me he’s shooting daggers at!’ Trinity looked to the right and smiled sweetly at her father. ‘I was late, you know?’

‘You were.’

‘And not looking out for my brother.’

Zahid looked down to those blue eyes again and wondered how much she knew, for he was sure that Donald was high. ‘Is it nice to see your brother happy?’

‘Donald wouldn’t know what happy was if it was hand delivered and he had to sign for it.’ She looked over at Donald, who was smiling and laughing to his bride. ‘He’s loaded,’ Trinity said. ‘Nothing changes.’

‘You?’ Zahid said.

‘I don’t go near anything like that.’

‘I meant,’ Zahid corrected himself, ‘are you happy?’

‘Not today,’ Trinity said, then it was she who corrected herself. ‘Actually, right now I am.’

‘Because?’

‘Because,’ Trinity said, because in his arms she actually was and, no, she should not be flirting, she had been called a tease so very many times when she was unable to follow through, but she just needed one lovely thing to focus on, just the teeniest bit of help to get through the night and, for good or bad, Zahid was it.

‘Because?’ he said into her ear, and it was then that she succumbed.

‘Because my brother has excellent taste in groomsmen.’

‘His bride has terrible taste in dresses.’

‘She does,’ Trinity sighed. ‘Though in fairness my mother would have lied about my measurements. She prefers me with an eating disorder, it makes her a more visible martyr...’

Trinity was, Zahid decided, rather wise.

‘I’m supposed to be singing later,’ Trinity said, and her hands moved up and linked behind his neck and, yes, they were back in the woods again. ‘As I said to my mother, my name isn’t Trinity Von Trapp.’ She went to explain, because he probably had no idea what she was talking about, but then she remembered a long-ago Christmas and Dianne forcing them to watch the Sound of Music and Trinity giggling at Zahid’s somewhat bemused expression.

More than that, though, somehow he got her—she did not have to explain everything to Zahid.

‘Rolfe might join you,’ he said into her ear, and though Zahid would no more sing than fly to the moon a smile played on her lips as she pulled her head back, just enough that her back arched in just a little and Zahid’s tongue rolled to his cheek as something else stirred to her words.

‘I prefer the captain.’

It was a tiny dirty dance, but with words. The heat from his palms was surely searing her dress and the way he simply let her be had her breathing freely for the first time since she could remember. With Zahid her body seemed to know how to work. He induced only pleasure and made it safe to be a touch wanton.

Then she remembered she was cross with him.

As the music ended, instead of sinking in for another dance, she pulled back.

‘I’d better go and see how Yvette is.’

‘I will check on the groom.’ He gave a small nod. ‘Perhaps later we dance...’

Trinity gave a tight smile as she walked off but she felt conflicted. No doubt Zahid thought her a party girl, no doubt he assumed where the night was leading.

He could never guess that she felt ill at the very thought of sex.

Only she didn’t feel ill in his arms.

Trinity wanted to get back to him, only Yvette was teary and she either had raging cystitis or her bladder was the size of a thimble or more likely she really was pregnant, because she wanted to go to the loo on the hour every hour and Trinity had to help with the dress.

‘Your brother...’ Yvette was trying to tame her angry cheeks with Trinity’s foundation. ‘I just got a call from the hotel—he hasn’t paid the reservation fee...’

‘I’m sure it’s just a mix-up,’ Trinity suitably soothed.

She was quite sure to the contrary, though.

The night wore on and the only time they met was when Dianne introduced Trinity to a group that Zahid was in and, of course, one of them had to ask what she was doing with her degree.

‘I’m thinking of moving to France.’ Trinity beamed, deciding that it might not be such a bad idea actually and feeling her mother’s tension beside her, ‘but right now I work in a library at a large college—’

‘The reference section,’ Dianne interrupted, and Zahid watched the daggers that shot from Trinity’s eyes.

Dianne was determined that Trinity would sing and trying to escape the inevitable, true to form, Trinity slipped outside for some air.