The fighting in Medouzan – appeased temporarily by their wedding – had flared up again. A local government official had been shot, and a whole town near the border had rioted. His army had brought it under control, but it was threatening the tenuous peace he was trying to strengthen.
But seeing his bride in his bed quickly removed all of those worries.
He sat on the edge of the mattress, his dark eyes drinking her in. She was pretending fascination with her book, but he could see the betraying flutter of her pulse in her throat. It was racing.
His smile was indulgent. She had conceded to him already. Moving to his room was a step in the right direction. He didn’t need to force her to acknowledge the desire that flooded between them.
“Good book?” He queried softly.
She nodded without lifting her eyes from the page.
“Have you eaten dinner?”
Sally put a finger midway down the page, then met his eyes. A tiny gasp escaped her lips when she did. “It’s after ten.”
“Yes.” He nodded. “But I was told you didn’t go to the dining room.”
“You were told…? By whom?”
He reached for her book and placed it down on the bed. “I wanted to join you. To share a meal and mark the beginning of a new phase in our relationship. But an emergency detained me.”
An emergency? She couldn’t help the barb of jealousy that spiked through her. Would she always feel like this? Would she always wonder how he was spending his time when he wasn’t with her? She swallowed. “Nothing serious, I hope.”
A muscle flecked in his jaw. “No, nothing serious.”
He was hiding something from her. It was enough to make her heart skitter painfully. She smiled to cover it. “Good.”
“Will you have some savoury pastry?”
“At this hour?” She pulled a face. “I’m not hungry, anyway.”
“Then keep me company while I eat.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to politely decline, but she stopped her objection at the last moment. She had sworn not to be churlish. She had moved into his room. She had married him. She couldn’t punish him for not loving her as she did him. Nor did she want him to know how much it hurt her that he didn’t.
“Sure.”
He was beside her. In order to get out of bed without touching him, she had to wriggle across the enormous expanse of mattress and step off the other edge. She did it, ignoring the faintly mocking look he shot her.
A table had been set on one of the balconies. Candles sparkled in the night air, and two places had been laid out.
She sat at one, enjoying the gentle rustle of evening breeze. The rain had passed, finally bringing a hint of relief to the stymying temperature they’d been enduring all month.
She watched as he loaded a selection of meals onto his plate. It smelled delicious. And despite the fact she hadn’t felt like eating all day, she found herself reaching for a serving spoon and placing some juicy, plump berries onto her dish.
He smiled at her, and it was completely disarming. Her heart burst painfully in her chest. She did love him. And she was powerless to walk away from any time he was willing to give her.
The silence seemed to crackle between them. Gone was the easy way they’d been able to talk in the lead up to the wedding. Not that it had been easy, exactly. Just more free than this.
“I hope your emergency situation isn’t worrying you,” she said finally, to break the ice. It was the only thing she could think of to say!
He put his fork down and regarded her broodingly. “An increase in tension across the mountains.”
“Oh.” Her anguished expression was real. “But the truce seemed to be holding so well.”
“Yes,” he shrugged. “And it still is. Compared to this time last year, life in Medouzan is significantly calmer and safer. I am confident our people will move past their hatred eventually.”
“It’s a habit that has been cast for years. It will probably take generations to completely erase those old prejudices.”
He nodded. Her perceptiveness fascinated him. “It has to start somewhere, though.”
“Do you think … would it be helpful for us to go there? To be seen in the area?”
His brows winged skyward as he considered her proposition. “Undoubtedly.” Yet the idea of taking Saaliyah anywhere near that war-torn part of his country was anathema to him. His smile was therefore non-committal. “But we’ll see how this tension plays out.”
She narrowed her eyes, and couldn’t help observing waspishly, “You’re the boss.”
He lifted his fork and pushed some of the pie into his mouth, to hide his smile.
“Jamil was asking me about Tasha yesterday.” Her cheeks flushed, for the mention of his sister brought back the night before. What they’d shared by the pool.
“Was she?” He murmured, thinking of their cousins for the first time in several days.
“She was asking what I thought should happen to them. And I wondered what your feelings are on the subject.”
“Do my feelings matter?”
She pulled a face. “You do hold their fate in your hands.”
“True.” He reclined in his chair. “Then tell me what you want.”
“What I want? Why?”
“You suffered most because of their behaviour. Do you forgive them? Do you want to see them freed?”
“Yes,” she said honestly. “I don’t know when, or if, I’ll be able to see Tasha again.” She lowered her gaze and fumbled her fingers in her lap. “I never realised what she’s capable of, until that day at the foot of the mountains.” She blinked past the emotion that was stirring inside her.
Khalid felt his own temper spiking when he recalled those frantic hours between Fadi’s confession and the safe discovery of Sally.
“You don’t think there should be consequences for what they did?”
She bit down on her lip. “Tashana has lost my friendship and love, permanently. Kaman, I imagine, has lost yours. I know how that will hurt Tasha. I know how it will make her suffer. We were like sisters.”
“Then this is a punishment to you too.”
She moved her head from side to side, debating his point. “From the moment she made the choice to fake her death, she punished me. I can’t believe she thought there wouldn’t be consequences.”
“It would appear they didn’t.”
“So I guess I feel that making them face up to those consequences is the best punishment.”
“If that’s what you wish, I’ll have them released.”
She shrugged. “You can hardly keep them locked up in the palace forever.”
“Can’t I?”
She wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. “They fell in love, Khalid. It made them sort of mad.”
“Love,” he exclaimed, surprising her with the vehement anger in the one word. “Why is Love held in such high esteem? Why is it an excuse for such behaviour as theirs?”
The conversation was moving to dangerous ground. She toyed with her fork and ate one of the berries to buy for time. “I guess it’s difficult to explain,” she said finally. But it was further proof that he’d never felt the powerful emotion.
Sally understood it though. She understood how love could make someone behave erratically.
“Try,” he commanded, all-powerful ruling Sheikh. He settled back in his chair so that he could observe her fully.
She frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“You love me, do you not?” He wondered at the way his stomach seemed to lurch at the simple question.
Sally froze, her eyes wide on his face. She hadn’t been prepared for such directness. Her mouth gaped as she tried to work out what to say.
“You said you love me. I presume you still do. Would you run away with me? Would you break the law, and the duty you owed to your closest family? All in the name of love?”
Her lungs were burning. Her chest was hurting. Her eyes were stinging but she w
ouldn’t let him see her cry.
“You wouldn’t,” he surmised. “You value decency above self-indulgence.”
“Love isn’t self-indulgent,” she said, thinking that in her case it was more like self-sacrifice.
“If you had been in Tasha’s shoes, you would not have done as she did. If you were engaged to one man, and fell in love with another, I know you would have handled it differently.”
Sally’s cheeks flamed at what was essentially praise wrapped up into a very awkward dissection of how she felt about him. “I’ve already told you that their behaviour was very wrong.”
“But you claim love as a defence for them.”
“Not a defence, or even a justification. Just an explanation.”
Adrenalin and something else was fierce in his bloodstream. “And your love for me, what would that make you capable of?”
She focussed her eyes on the desert beyond him. “You said you don’t want the complication of a wife who loves you. Why are you so certain I didn’t take that suggestion to heart?”
His laugh should have been a warning, for it was low and soft. He stood abruptly and held his hands to her. She took them on autopilot, and let him pull her to standing. His eyes stayed locked to hers as he slid his finger under the thin straps of her nightgown. He slid it down without taking his gaze from her face.
“Do you love me?” He asked quietly.
She shivered, not because the night was cold, but because her heart was.
She didn’t answer. Her expression showed anguish.
He kissed the flesh at the base of her neck, and slid a finger inside her moist, warm core. “Do you want me?”
He changed his line of questioning.
She nodded, having no problems answering that question. Her traitorous body was already arching forward, pressing against him.
He removed himself and nodded. “Good.” He linked his fingers with hers and pulled her back inside, to the bed they now shared.
He kissed her hard on the mouth, pushing himself against her until she fell backwards. Their passion was a flame that was consuming them, but he wouldn’t rest until he’d heard her confession.
“You love me,” he muttered, pushing his own pants down and freeing his arousal.
“Why do you care?” She whispered, her breath coming in snatches.
“I don’t know.” His laugh was uneven. He nudged towards her entrance and she bucked sharply, crying out with desperate need.
“Say the words,” he demanded throatily, teasing her breasts with his mouth. His stubble left sensitive patches of skin all over her body.
“What words?” She wrapped her legs around his waist and tried to pull him towards her, but he was strong and determined.
He lifted his head to shoot her a droll look, then moved a little away from her.
Her need for him was overwhelming. The idea that he might not take possession of her was an impossible agony to contemplate.
“Say the words,” he responded, again moving his arousal close to her body, but not close enough to offer any satisfaction.
She cried out, and pressed a palm into his chest. It was a power play. He had her right where he wanted her, and all that remained was for her to concede defeat.
“Fine,” she shouted, her eyes moist with the tears she’d been fighting earlier. “I love you. Are you happy?” She squeezed her eyes shut, while a wave of grief deluged her brain. It was quickly eviscerated by his pounding strength entering her and driving her over the edge of reason.
She clung to him as though her life depended on it. His hands traced every inch of her body, and he moved within her, teasing her and taking her to the edge of explosion several times. Finally, when he pushed her past what she could handle, she sobbed with the pleasure of release, and held him tight.
She felt his own explosion as it ripped through first him and then spilled into her.
And she wondered, as sense returned, if that was the night that they might have made a baby.
The night he’d tormented her and humiliated her until she’d admitted that she loved him.
The very idea of tarnishing something as wonderful as a baby with that memory filled her with abject sadness.
She stared at the ceiling, her eyes squeezed close so that she didn’t have to see the victory in his expression.
There was no victory.
If she had looked, she would have seen terror.
What had he become?
What had happened to him?
His chest seemed torn in two; his body was awash with acidic guilt.
He stood, the pang of removing himself from her warm softness an actual ache.
Tears were rolling down the side of her face, landing with soft little splashes on the white bedding.
He pulled his clothes back on and stormed out of his suite of rooms.
He didn’t know what he’d done to her, nor did he know why. But all his life he’d had one person who could hold a mirror up to him and explain his behaviour. And nothing would stop him from getting the answers he needed.
* * *
“I must speak with you.” His eyes flicked past Kaman to the curious face of Tashana. A muscle moved in his jaw. “Alone.”
His generosity extended to his cousin. Not his cousin’s lover.
Kaman nodded, stepping out of the elegant apartment for the first time in over a month. He looked left and right, examining the length of the state wing’s hallway, before focusing his gaze on Khalid. “What is it?”
Khalid felt a sudden burst of hesitation. It was unlike him to be circumspect, so he pushed it aside. “My wife thinks I should forgive you.”
Kaman’s brows flew high. “She does?”
“She is of the opinion that you and Tashana fell in love and this therefore excuses any indiscretion afterwards.”
Kaman’s chest moved with the power of his breathing. “You know I would never have planned this.” He put a hand on Khalid’s arm. “Believe me, cousin. I didn’t intend to fall in love with her. But I looked at Tashana and felt as though I was staring at the answer I’d been seeking all my life. Nothing about it made sense, but it just was. I knew, from that first moment, that I needed her, and always would.”
Khalid swallowed past a bitter wave of realisation. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Kaman’s laugh was tinged with regret. “I wanted to. At first, I pushed the feelings aside. She was, after all, your betrothed.” He shook his head. “But you had very little interest in her. You had Hannah.”
“And Tashana had you.”
Kaman had the decency to look embarrassed. “Not at first. It was many months before we acted on our feelings. And I still wish I had been brave enough to speak with you first.”
“You should have.” Khalid squared his shoulders and closed his heart. “You have lost my trust and affection, and these things can never be regained. My wife has urged me to be lenient and generous, and it is for this reason alone I am here now.”
Despair flickered in Kaman’s face before he nodded finally. “I understand.”
“You think your love for Tashana is a justification for your betrayal of me?”
Kaman’s cheeks flushed with colour. “No. Yes.” He breathed out noisily. “I don’t know. I just know I couldn’t fight how I felt for her.”
“Because you love her.”
“You must understand,” Kaman pushed.
“Must I?” He was back to his supremely cold and confident self.
“I would never choose to hurt you.”
“Loving Tashana is not what hurt me. It’s important we’re clear on that fact. If you’d explained your … predicament … to me at the time, a lot of pain and trouble could have been spared.”
“I know.” He swallowed bitterly. “We were concerned that you might insist on going through with the wedding.”
“To a woman you had bedded? My own cousin?” He shook his head angrily. “You were the only person I could ever have said I truly lo
ved. And you treated me like… like some self-interested loose canon. Did you really believe I would make any decision that would have hurt you?”
Kaman felt his chest burning with the pain of knowing he had seriously erred. “I’m not saying we did the right thing. In fact, I know we messed up. Fear and love can cause stupid behaviour.”
Now it was Khalid’s turn to groan inwardly. For Kaman was right. Love could indeed cause stupid behaviour.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
His eyes were so dark they were like the night. She blinked her own, to clear away the last vestiges of her troubled dreams, then continued to study his. Or was he studying hers? She cleared her throat self-consciously. She was staring. She was also powerless to look away.
Khalid’s smile was small. Almost as if it were escaping his face against his will. “You’re awake.” He didn’t say finally, but there was something in his tone that suggested it. She lifted her head off the pillow, searching for the clock on the wall.
“It’s not even seven yet,” she murmured, straightening the sheet across her chest and pulling her hair over one shoulder.
“It doesn’t feel so early to me. I’ve been awake all night.”
All night.
Since he’d seduced her into confessing that she loved him. Then stormed away from her.
Her heart sank. It hadn’t been a dream. It had happened.
The fighting spirit was surprisingly strong in her. “Perhaps it was a guilty conscience?”
His laugh surprised them both. “Undoubtedly.” He paused to study her face in the morning light. “Saaliyah, will you do me the honour of accompanying me this morning?”
She regarded him contemplatively. Where? And why? What did he want?
She flipped onto her back and stared at the ceiling. It was too much. The memory of what had happened the night before was fraying at the edges of her mind.
Her love for him was becoming a burden that made her weak. And yet she could do nothing about it. Love wasn’t a choice. It simply was. A force as powerful as gravity and light, as undeniable as the past and as compellingly inescapable as thirst on a hot summer’s day.
Bartered to the Sheikh: Honour, duty, marriage ... and passionate desert nights Page 15