by Annie West
But even as her body buzzed with the intense rush of awed delight, she stood, rooted to the floor. For something wasn’t right. Sayid’s stance, his tone, his expression, didn’t ring true.
On the verge of tumbling forward into his arms, Lina stopped herself, frozen in place like her lover.
He didn’t look like her lover now. There was no desire in his eyes, no smile, either indulgent or predatory. No warmth.
Definitely no love.
He looked hard and unemotional. Determined and ruthless. Even a little fierce.
Lina rocked back on her heels, swallowing the scratchy mass of emotion blocking her throat. It didn’t take intuition to know something was wrong.
Yet it took everything she had not to go to him, rest her head on his wide chest and say yes.
If she closed her eyes and concentrated on his words she might convince herself this was the beginning of her happy ever after. Only for a moment. Sayid looked so rigid the illusion shattered.
‘Why?’
‘Sorry?’ Grooves lined his forehead as if no one had ever questioned him before. Maybe they hadn’t since he became Emir.
‘Why do you want me to marry you?’
Blank eyes stared down at her and Lina’s nape prickled as every fine hair stood erect in premonition. Whatever this was, it wasn’t good.
‘Isn’t it enough that I want it?’ Surprise flashed in his eyes and hauteur laced his tone. Those aristocratic features tightened and apprehension washed through her. Sayid wasn’t only her lover but her ruler. A man with the power to change her life for ever.
But he’d already done that. He’d set her free.
Lina met his eyes steadily despite the staccato rattle of her heart and the desperate heave of lungs that couldn’t drag in enough oxygen.
‘I didn’t know you were thinking of marriage.’ She’d heard whispers that the elders were talking about the need for a royal heir, but the consensus was that Sayid had no inclination to marry yet.
One dark eyebrow rose as if in surprise at her temerity. ‘Yet I am.’ He paused and seemed to gather himself. This time his smile almost reached his eyes. ‘I want you as my wife.’
Again the urge to fall into his embrace was almost irresistible. It would have been, Lina knew, if he’d opened his arms. She was strong but not that strong. Instead he held himself still, watching her with something in his eyes—detachment or calculation—that made her spine crackle as it iced over.
‘Is it because you forgot to use a condom last night? Are you afraid I might be pregnant?’
He stiffened, a real feat when he was already ramrod straight. His mouth twisted wryly. ‘I hoped you hadn’t noticed. I didn’t want you to worry. It was appalling of me to forget.’
Relief poured through Lina and some of the tension left her taut frame. She’d found his unstoppable passion anything but appalling.
‘I wasn’t worried.’ Secretly she’d wondered if it might be possible his child was even now forming inside her. It was stupid to think it, since the chances were slim. Yet that hadn’t stopped the glow of delight that had carried her through the day. ‘I knew you’d look after me, if I got pregnant.’
Lina paused, watching Sayid’s face, knowing there was more. She could take the proposal at face value or she could probe. Perhaps the fact there hadn’t actually been a proposal was what made her persist.
‘The chances are I’m not pregnant.’ Her voice dipped on the last word. ‘A marriage would be premature.’
Why was she holding back when she wanted this so much?
Because she wanted Sayid to want her in the same way. Yet he looked anything but jubilant or excited.
He scowled. ‘You don’t want to marry me?’ Disbelief made his voice rise. If the situation weren’t so fraught Lina might have smiled. Her lover was so absolutely sure of himself, and with good reason.
‘What I want, Sayid, is to know why you want to marry me.’ She folded her arms across her chest, hoping to look stronger than she felt despite the yearning to say yes. ‘We’ve always been honest with each other. I’d like to understand.’ When still he remained silent she continued quickly. ‘It’s not as if you love me.’
If this were her fantasy he’d pull her to him and admit he was crazy with love for her. That it didn’t matter that she was from another class, ill-suited for the role of Sheikha. That he cared for nothing but her.
Dream on, Lina.
Nevertheless, she was on tenterhooks waiting for his reply.
‘Royalty doesn’t marry for love, Lina.’ For the first time since she’d entered the room she saw a flash of the man she’d fallen for. The man who, love or not, cared for her, at least a little. The warmth in his eyes spoke of tenderness and—
She sucked in a sharp breath, sure that was pity she read in his expression.
‘I understand that,’ she said quickly. ‘That’s why I’m surprised. I’m hardly an appropriate royal bride.’
Instantly he moved nearer, then pulled up abruptly, as if preferring to keep his distance. The chill that had started in her spine worked inwards towards her vital organs. No, he wasn’t overcome by love.
‘You underestimate yourself, Lina. You’re beautiful and charming. You have winning ways and would make an excellent hostess. Given time I’m sure the people will love you.’
The people, but not Sayid. It was what he didn’t say that spoke most loudly.
‘It’s true my advisers have been pointing out the advantages of a royal marriage to secure the throne for the future.’
A baby. That was what he meant. The pair of them making a baby together. Lina’s arms tightened protectively around her body at the sudden uprush of excitement at the idea of becoming a mother to Sayid’s child.
Yet her excitement soured. She might be a country girl, still learning the ways of the city, she might be late acquiring an education, but some things she understood. She knew the reality of an unequal marriage.
Lina didn’t want a marriage like her parents’ where all power rested with the husband and the wife was expected to be continually grateful he’d plucked her out of poverty. She didn’t want a marriage solely to beget an heir.
She wanted a man who’d be her partner, even if to the outside world his authority far outstripped hers. She wanted to be able to speak her mind, help make decisions and above all love and be loved in return.
You don’t want much, do you? See where your western education with its ideas of equality between the sexes has left you?
‘Still,’ she persisted, wondering where she found the strength to withstand not only Sayid but her own reckless heart, ‘you don’t need to marry me. A few days will confirm if I’m pregnant.’ Her eyes narrowed on his sombre features. ‘Something has happened, hasn’t it? What?’
‘Isn’t it enough that I want this?’
This. Not you.
Suddenly revelation hit. Lina had her answer. It wasn’t enough.
Because she loved him. She’d been in love since she was seventeen and instead of growing out of it, she’d fallen deeper in love with Sayid.
She loved him and wanted his love in return. It might be hopeless, ridiculous, asking the impossible of the man who’d already given her so much, but that was what she craved. Lina was no longer subservient enough to be overawed by him. Or to settle for a relationship where she wasn’t valued. Sayid had taught her to value herself and she couldn’t go back to being a chattel.
‘Why, Sayid?’
‘No one else pushes the boundaries like you. You know that, don’t you?’ He crossed his arms, echoing her stance, yet on him it looked combative not protective. Finally he spoke. ‘Because it’s the right thing.’
His jaw firmed and his pulse beat hard at his temple. He looked on the edge of losing his temper, something she’d never seen.
‘Because I was a v
irgin?’ But if that were the case surely they’d have had this conversation days ago.
His head jerked back as if she’d slapped him. She even thought he paled.
‘That too.’ He nodded. ‘You deserve a respectable outcome.’
A respectable outcome. It sounded so impersonal, as if she were a business or a government strategy. Not a woman craving warmth and love.
Nausea rose from her belly to her mouth, acid burning her throat.
‘Something’s happened. Someone has said I’m not respectable—is that it?’
His slashing gesture was all repressed violence, the light in his eyes furious. ‘It doesn’t matter. There was a little...talk but it’s been contained. You don’t need to worry about it.’
Lina stumbled a little, saw him lunge towards her and shoved out her arm, palm out, holding him at bay. ‘Don’t. Please.’ She sidestepped to one of the heavy chairs, her fingers clawing the carved back like talons, needing its support. ‘I’m fine.’
Now things made sense. Sayid’s abrupt decision to marry. His air of resolve, like a man bent on doing his duty, no matter how unpalatable.
Because he saw her as a duty.
Her stomach plummeted in a freefall that hollowed her insides. How long before duty morphed into resentment? If, because of her, he had to change his life?
She looked into those serious eyes, narrowed as if trying to read her thoughts. Sayid was bent on doing the right thing. He was a decent man, he even cared enough to want to protect her. That in itself was remarkable.
Lina knew she could ask for no more. It was lunacy to ask for love when she could have marriage to Sayid.
Clearly she was mad, for she couldn’t, wouldn’t force him to marry her in such circumstances.
She loved him too much to shackle him to her when his heart wasn’t engaged. Lina imagined the years passing, he growing ever more dissatisfied but determined to put up with his unsuitable bride and she losing the self-respect she’d worked so hard to acquire. If they were lucky there might be children. Her heart ached for those children. She imagined it breaking all over again if the best Sayid could do was his duty to the children of his low-born wife, rather than love them.
She blinked to clear her blurred vision, her gaze colliding with his.
‘Thank you, Sayid. I appreciate that you’re willing to do so much for me.’ The ache inside welled so high she had to force the words out through a throat that worked convulsively. ‘But the answer is no. I can’t marry you.’
* * *
Sayid stared, reading emotion in Lina’s over-bright eyes.
Yet it was nothing to the slam of astonishment that rocked him back on his heels.
She couldn’t marry him?
She was sorry?
Not good enough, Lina! Totally unacceptable, in fact.
Did she have any concept of the honour he bestowed? He thought of the royal princesses and wealthy, sophisticated women who vied for his attention, who’d accept whatever terms he set to become his wife.
And little Lina Rahman, who’d come to the palace as his servant, his slave, demurred?
Fire blasted him, searing his belly, coursing through his veins, burning his retinas as a red mist of fury descended.
She was his lover. She shared her body willingly, no ardently, as if she had but one thought—to make him happy. And she had. Supremely, breathtakingly happy. He’d never felt as good as he had this week. Even interminable negotiations and royal red tape dissolved into inconveniences to be laughed off at the prospect of bedding Lina again. Of simply being with her.
He’d seen the dazzled look in her eyes, registered the needy way she clung to him, even if she never put that neediness into words or demands for his time. She was the perfect lover in fact. Passionate, sensual, generous. Attuned to his needs even, he realised with a stir of disquiet, when he hadn’t known what he’d needed. Like this morning when he’d found peace in her quiet conversation. Like the other times she’d chivvied him into laughter and he’d realised how little time he’d had for humour.
Like the times, after sex, when instead of pulling away because he didn’t do post-coital cuddles, he’d let her enfold him in her slender arms, stroke his heaving back or thread her fingers through his hair and he’d discovered he wanted those moments of tenderness as much as she!
A shudder racked him. Annoyance, he told himself. Indignation.
‘You presume too much,’ he bit out. ‘It wasn’t a question. I’ve decided we’ll marry.’ He’d brook no argument.
Those violet eyes sparked, reminding him of thunderstorms over the mountains and the savage lightning strikes that did such damage in that wild landscape.
‘You’ve decided, so I’m supposed to agree.’
Sayid nodded. ‘It’s for the best. For you.’ Couldn’t she see he did this to protect her?
Her chin jerked up as if pulled by a string and she let go of the chair. Her hands rammed down onto her hips. She was ridiculous, trying to defy him, for she was doomed to defeat. Yet she looked stunning. Like some haughty princess of old, demanding obedience.
It hit him that far from being unsuitable as a royal wife, Lina was perfect. She wasn’t a burden but an asset, publicly and in private. He defied anyone to find a woman who’d be better for him and his people.
‘You can’t just command me to marry you!’ The mulish set of her lovely mouth and the obstinate angle of her jaw said this wasn’t Lina being coy.
Sayid frowned, scrubbing a hand around the back of his neck where the muscles drew so tight, a headache began to throb.
For the first time he wished he knew how women thought. He’d been content with perfectly satisfying, albeit shallow relationships. His liaisons were for physical release, not for sharing souls. He hadn’t a clue what motivated Lina.
His was a man’s world. He’d loved his mother, but from an early age he’d focused on learning and living up to his father’s warrior code. At fifteen, soon after his father’s death, he’d become a man, defending his mother from rape and forced marriage. His mother had died soon after, of a broken heart, some said.
Which meant he’d spent almost half his life with no women close to him. No sisters or aunts. No woman who could unpick the intricacies and absurdities of the female mind. For Lina’s refusal was nothing short of absurd.
How could she not want to marry him?
A stray thought filled his mouth with bile. ‘Is there someone else? Someone you want to—’
‘No!’ She looked so horrified relief filled him. For a moment there he’d wondered if she’d felt compelled to become his lover even though she cared for someone else. Nausea still swirled in his belly.
He hadn’t compelled her. She’d been free to choose. And there was no mistaking her enjoyment of what they did together.
Yet a seed of doubt lingered. When she’d come to the palace originally she’d been morally if not legally too young to choose a lover. He’d done the right thing, sending her away, keeping his hands off her. Sayid told himself she was now an independent woman who’d chosen to accept an affair. But was there a chance that she’d felt...obliged to take him into her bed?
His gut churned in horror.
Sayid refused to believe it. Lina had learned to say no. Look at her now, all defiance and pride. Yet he knew he could sweep her into his arms and persuade her.
But that shred of doubt stopped him. He couldn’t bear even the tiniest possibility she’d given him sex out of gratitude. Or out of coercion. Which made it all the more imperative he right the wrong he’d done her, putting her reputation in danger. They must marry!
Yet his honour demanded she come to him freely.
It was time to be magnanimous. ‘I’ve rushed you. I know it’s a surprise. I’ll leave you to digest the idea.’ He even conjured a smile, though his facial muscles felt stretched taut
. She probably just needed reassurance. ‘But it will work out, you’ll see. You’ll make a fine Sheikha.’
‘I’m sorry, Sayid. But I’m not marrying you.’ Her hands were clasped before her now. She looked so damned earnest.
Impatience rose. Sayid had never been rejected in his life. It was impossible he’d be refused now. He turned and marched across the room then back again, needing an outlet for the tide of furious energy that made him want to grab her and kiss her into submission.
Only his promise to himself that he wouldn’t coerce her stopped him. Frustration tore at him, yet he forced himself to keep his distance, just. He stopped out of touching distance, his breath laboured at the effort of restraint, his temper spiking at her obstinacy.
Lina stood there in one of her western dresses, lilac this time, looking sexy and seductive and mutinous and he wanted to kiss her mouth till it softened, strip her bare and stake his claim over that glorious body in the most primitive, definite way possible. He was aroused just watching the quick rise and fall of her breasts and the flare of emotion in her bright stare.
That enraged him even more than her refusal. She stood there, not calm, but at least self-possessed, saying no, and he felt utterly adrift, as if every tie that tethered him to the real world had been ripped away.
He prowled towards her, in the grip of an unholy mix of hunger, indignation and determination. Slowly he lifted his hand, watching her shiver in anticipation of his touch. He brushed his knuckle down her cheek and the shiver became a shudder, her tight mouth opening on a silent gasp of delight.
Satisfaction thundered through him.
If there’d been any question that Lina hadn’t shared this sexual obsession her reaction banished it. She quivered, leaning towards him as if needing more than that light touch.
Sayid’s mouth turned up in a possessive smile as his hand trailed from her chin to her throat then to her breast.
Lina’s breath was a hiss then a sigh as he circled her nipple with one finger, feeling it peak beneath the fabric. Her breath came in uneven gasps and the pulse at her throat raced as quickly as his pounding blood. Deliberately he opened his palm, cupping her breast and gently squeezing. She pressed close as her eyelids fluttered low.