“It’s not you. It’s what you represent. What he sees me doing. All the changes I’ve made, the changes I intend to make.” He cupped Megan’s shoulders and looked into her eyes. “He served my father.”
“And now he serves you.”
“That’s just the problem, sweetheart. He wants me to be like my father, but I’m not.” A muscle knotted in his jaw. “And I don’t think he’s ever forgiven me for the foreign blood that runs in my veins.”
“Foreign…? Oh. Your mother.”
“Yeah.” A smile curved his lips. “You’d have liked her.”
“But she left you.”
“She left Suliyam.”
“Why? If her husband was here, and her son—”
How did you explain to your American wife that your American mother couldn’t handle the heat? The desert? The boundaries set by centuries of tradition?
A few words would have done it, but for some reason he couldn’t quite comprehend, Caz didn’t want to lay all those things out for Megan’s inspection. And that, he knew, was foolish. Megan wasn’t really his wife, not by the law of her land. He didn’t have to worry about putting ideas in her head. She was going back to her own people, leaving Suliyam…
Leaving him.
The realization stabbed through his heart.
“Come here,” he said gruffly, enfolding her in his arms. “Why should we waste time talking about other people?” He bent his head, brushed his mouth over hers. “For now, there’s only you and me.”
“But Hakim said—”
“Forget Hakim.” Caz eased Megan down against the pillows. “Just think about me. About this.” He touched his lips to hers, softly, then with growing passion. When he drew back, he knew he couldn’t keep the promise he’d made to send her home. He wanted her here, in his arms, in his bed. He wanted to argue with her, laugh with her, share his days and nights with her for as long as fate would permit. “Megan.” He took a deep breath. “I know I said I’d send you home as soon as we return to my palace, but…”
“But?”
“But I’ve been thinking,” he said, hurrying the words, refusing to acknowledge the truth of what he felt spreading through his heart. “We still have work to do.”
“Work.” Her smile faltered. Why had she imagined he might talk about something else? “Yes, of course.”
“It’s been difficult for you, pretending to have no role in that work.”
“Yes.” She touched her hand to his cheek. “But I understand, Caz. It’s just the way things are here.”
“But that would all change, if I could introduce you as my wife.”
Megan’s heart fluttered. “What are you saying?”
“I know it’s asking a great deal, kalila. But if you’re willing to play the part a little longer…”
She stared into his face, thinking of all the reasons to say no, what he was asking her was out of the question, that it was impossible…
“Kalila.” His voice was low and rough with need. “Don’t leave me. Not yet.”
Their eyes met and held. Then Megan reached for him, brought his mouth down to hers and gave him her answer with her kiss.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
AT NOON, their party left Ahmet’s mountain stronghold.
They rode out, Caz on the same black stallion he’d ridden the day they’d arrived. Megan sat sidesaddle before him, secure in the circle of his arm. Ahmet and his men escorted them, whooping and cheering and waving their lances and rifles in the air.
“Tradition,” Caz whispered in answer to Megan’s inquiring look. “Ahmet honors us. I know it must seem bizarre, but—”
“It seems wonderful. It is wonderful.” She turned to him and laughed. “The fortress, the horses, the riders…it’s perfect.”
Caz felt some of the tension drain out of him. All this was strange to his wife. Would she regret that she’d married a man from such an alien culture? It was only temporary, of course, but still, he wanted her to be happy and not judge his people and his country too harshly.
“Do you really like it?”
“Oh, yes! The colors, the sounds…It’s magnificent.” She laughed again and tilted her head up to his. “Even Ahmet.”
Caz grinned. “I’ll tell him you said so.”
“Don’t you dare!”
“What will you offer for my silence?”
Her smile was sweetly wicked. “What would you like?”
He bent his head to hers again and told her. Color flooded her face; heat suffused her body.
“You drive a hard bargain, my lord,” she said softly, “but what can I do except agree?”
God, she was wonderful, this wife of his. Caz drew her back more closely against him.
“We have a deal,” he said softly. They rode in silence for a few minutes. Then he cleared his throat. “I thought—I was concerned you might find all this…barbaric.”
“I guess I might have, not too long ago,” she said, with the kind of honesty he’d come to expect from her. “But now—”
“Now?”
“Now, I see things differently.”
His lips grazed her temple. “Why, kalila?”
The answers were on the tip of her tongue. Because now she rode with a man who was no longer a stranger. Because she was wrapped in the arms of her husband. Because he, and all he represented, were part of her.
Because Qasim had become her life.
“Kalila.” Caz spread his hand against her midriff, his thumb just under the rise of her breast. His voice was husky; his breath warmed her face. “Tell me what’s changed since we first came here.”
Megan turned her face to his. Tell him, she thought, oh, tell him…
A roar went up from the riders as they formed a circle around them. Caz muttered a curse and reined in the stallion. They’d reached the helicopter; Ahmet rode toward them, signaled for silence and began to speak.
Caz bent his head to Megan’s, translating softly.
“Ahmet says his timing is lousy.”
She laughed. This was far safer ground. “He does, huh?”
“No, but he should.” His arms tightened around her. “Actually, he says I am a lucky man to have won the heart of a woman more beautiful than the moon.”
“Translation: He was outmaneuvered.”
“Wonderful. The translator needs a translator.”
“Am I right?”
“Of course you’re right, but we don’t have to tell him that. He also says that it’s not too late to change my mind. He offers me a hundred horses for you.”
“Is that good?”
“It’s amazing,” Caz said, with a quick smile. “A man can buy twenty excellent wives for one hundred horses. Don’t poke your elbow in my ribs, kalila. It’s the truth. Go on. Smile at our friend. Let him know that you’re flattered.”
Megan smiled brightly as Caz rattled off a reply.
“What did you tell him?”
“I said he did honor to us both and that it was a tempting offer should I ever—oof!”
“Tempting, indeed.”
“Behave yourself, woman. A man doesn’t get an offer of one hundred horses every day.” Caz drew her more closely against him. “And I told him you were worth a thousand times a hundred horses, kalila. I’m a very lucky man.”
Megan’s heart thudded. She was lucky, too. Caz had changed her life. A week ago, she’d been working in an office, leading a quiet existence. Now, she was the wife of a man who fulfilled every fantasy she’d ever had and some she’d never dared imagine.
She’d almost been foolish enough to tell him so.
She had to remember that none of this was real. He’d made that clear and that was fine, wasn’t it? That was exactly the way she wanted things…Wasn’t it?
“Kalila? What’s wrong?”
Everything. Everything was wrong…
“Sweetheart? What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” Megan said brightly. “I’m just—I’m a little tired.”
<
br /> “Damn, but I’m a fool! Of course you’re tired. I’ve given you a rough few days.” Caz eased her to the ground, then dropped to his feet beside her and swept her into his arms. The crowd gave a throaty roar, but neither of them heard it. “Let’s get out of here.”
Hakim stepped forward, but the sheikh ignored his aide and carried Megan into the helicopter, settling her into a seat beside him. The ’copter blades began to whirr and the craft lifted, tilted forward and gathered speed until Ahmet and his men were black specks against the towering mountains.
Caz leaned close and put his mouth to Megan’s ear. “We’ll be home soon.”
She nodded and closed her eyes, afraid he might read the truth glittering in them.
Home wasn’t a palace by the sea. It wasn’t a condo in L.A.
Home was right here, by the side of the man she loved.
Days before, when they’d first arrived at the palace, a handful of men had greeted them. Caz had left her in Hakim’s care and driven off with the small delegation.
To a man, no one had acknowledged her presence.
It was all different now.
At least fifty men waited for them in the desert, a long line of Humvees purring behind them like big cats. The men bowed when Caz stepped onto the landing pad, but their dark eyes focused on Megan.
They know, she thought.
What had Caz told them? Had he explained he’d taken her as his wife to save her from Ahmet? Instinct told her they wouldn’t understand such a gallant gesture.
But he’d surely told them his marriage was one of convenience?
Then, why were so many of their glances hostile?
Caz greeted them pleasantly. He drew her forward and spoke some more; she heard him use her name. The men looked at her again, then murmured among themselves. Finally, one stepped forward, bowed and began talking, clearly directing his remarks to her.
“He welcomes you,” Caz said in a low voice.
Welcomes? She doubted it. She wanted to turn to Caz and burrow into his arms. Instead, she held her head high and smiled.
“Tell him I thank him for coming to greet me.”
“He says you have only to ask for whatever you wish and he will scour the earth to find it.”
“Tell him I thank him for that, too…and don’t mention that I really think he’d like to dab me with honey and tie me to an anthill.”
Caz’s mouth twitched. “I like the dabbing you with honey part, but only if I can replace the ants with my mouth.”
She felt her cheeks color. “Are you sure nobody here understands English?”
“I am positive, and what if they do?” He put his arm around her and drew her against his side. “A man may cherish his own wife.”
“Tradition?”
“And one I don’t intend to change. Come on, sweetheart. Tell Ari you’re grateful for all his good wishes.”
“Yes. Of course.” She looked at the men, smiled at the one who’d spoken for them all and saw their wary expressions turn to pleasure when she delivered the message in their own language. Caz grinned at her as he led her toward the Humvees.
“You’ve picked up some of our language,” he said. “I’m impressed…though nothing about you should surprise me any more.”
“Caz? How did they know about—about us?”
“I sent word,” he said as he handed her into the Hummer. “Some of these men are my advisors. It was important that they know of our marriage.”
“They think we’re really…”
She sounded shocked. Perhaps he should have told her he was going to inform his people that he had married her. Maybe then she wouldn’t be staring at him with such a strange expression on her face.
What was she thinking? Moments ago, she’d seemed so happy. Now…
Now, she looked as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.
His belly knotted. Was she afraid she might be trapped in a place like this, with a man like him?
“Caz? They really think—’’
“Yes.” He told himself to smile. “That’s not a problem, is it?”
A problem? She wanted to fling herself into his arms. Did this mean he didn’t want to treat their marriage as a temporary arrangement? Had he fallen in love with her as she had with him? Did he want her to stay with him, live with him, bear his children and grow old with him?
“No,” she said, “of course not. In fact—in fact…”
“In fact what?” he said, trying not to sound as if his life hinged on her answer.
Megan wanted to weep. His tone was polite. That was all. Polite, as if what they were discussing had no real meaning, as if this really were about nothing more important than what he’d told his men.
Caz had married her because he had to, and she couldn’t be fool enough to think that the one night she’d spent in his arms had made him fall in love with her.
“In fact,” she said, “you handled it very well.”
It? It? Their marriage, she meant, and its dissolution. Caz looked at his wife as the Hummer lurched forward. She turned her face to the window.
Apparently the view was more important than him or their marriage.
The warmth of the last minutes, of all the minutes that had slipped by since he’d made her his wife, drained from his heart. He was from one world. She was from another. What they’d shared in the mountains was a fantasy.
What he owed her now was reassurance.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” he said quietly.
“I’m not—”
“You are. And it’s not necessary. We have an agreement. I intend to honor its terms. Why would I do otherwise?”
Why, indeed? Megan’s eyes blurred with tears.
“Megan?” Caz touched her shoulder. “I promise you, I’ll honor it.”
She nodded. He would do what he’d said. He was a good man. An honorable man.
It wasn’t his fault he hadn’t fallen in love with her.
A week went by, filled with meetings with an endless stream of elders, advisors and chieftains. Of cautious give and take. Of protocol, even when there were times Caz wanted to slam his hand on the table and say, Can’t you see that we need to do these things if we’re to survive as a nation?
But he knew better. He hadn’t done anything remotely like that. Instead, he’d listened to questions, provided answers, turned to the woman seated beside him time and time again and always, always, she was ready with a response, a circled paragraph, a list of figures to help him prove his point.
Thanks to Megan, the meetings he’d dreaded had gone well. They’d concluded weeks earlier than he’d expected, and he’d gained the approval he wanted for his proposals.
Even his people were impressed. They’d gone from raising their eyebrows at her presence to looking at her when she spoke. Today, one of his advisors had actually asked her a direct question.
He wondered if she had any idea what an enormous step forward that was, not only for her but also for women in his country. Late this afternoon, the most traditional of the elders had sidled up to him and murmured that perhaps, just perhaps, there was something to be said for educating females.
“Not too much,” the old man had added hastily. “Only as much as is necessary for them to be as helpful as your wife, my lord Qasim. She is a gem among women.”
Caz, strolling the beach, kicked a small white stone out of his way.
Coming home, he’d imagined what it would be like to show Megan the narrow streets of his city, the ancient bazaars, the hidden places he’d discovered as a boy.
He’d pictured her delight at the little shop that sold silks from China, the half-moon bay just up the coast where dolphins played in the shallows. He’d thought of what it would be like to spend their days exploring his world, their nights making love in the enormous bed that had belonged to five centuries of Suliyam’s kings.
Caz bent down, scooped up a shell and tossed it into the sea.
Instead his wife
and he were strangers. They were polite to each other. Pleasant. They conferred before the meetings and sometimes after them, but once the day was over, he went his way. She went hers.
And at night…
At night, he lay on the sofa in his sitting room, stared up at the ceiling and tried not to think about Megan lying alone in his bed.
She was only in that bed because he’d commanded it.
“I’ll stay in the women’s quarters,” she’d said the day of their return to the palace.
“The king’s wife does not sleep in the women’s quarters,” he’d said, silently cursing himself for sounding like a stiff-necked martinet. “It would generate talk, and it would not be—”
“Tradition,” she’d said, with a taut smile.
Let her think that. The truth was, until his father’s marriage to his mother, generations of wives had slept in the women’s quarters. It had been the only workable system, back when a king had three, four, a dozen wives, but he’d be damned if he’d tell her that.
It was better than telling her he wanted to know she was in his bed, to be able to dream of her there, with her hair spread over his pillows, even if the image was torture.
How many times had he risen from the sofa, gone to the bedroom door, stood outside it with the blood roaring in his ears as he imagined opening that door, going to her, taking her in his arms and telling her…and telling her…
“Sire?”
Caz swung around. Hakim hurried toward him, huffing and puffing with the effort of walking through the white sand.
“What is it, Hakim? I’m not in the mood to be—”
“It is important, my lord. Your cousin wishes to see you.”
“My cousin?”
“Alayna. She has been waiting to meet with you for days.”
Hakim spoke the name with all the importance Caz knew it deserved, knew, too, that he had to deal with Alayna eventually. He owed her that…but not now.
“Later, Hakim.”
“But Lord Qasim…”
‘‘Later, I said. Tell my cousin that I will see her, but not today.”
Hakim nodded stiffly. “Very well, sir. In that case, there is something else. A minor matter…”
“Get to it, man! I told you, I’m not in the mood to be bothered.”
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