by Annie West
Then the import of his words sank in.
‘You’ve been checking out women all the time we were...?’ She swallowed convulsively, tasting rising bile.
Quickly he took the seat beside her, turning towards her. But he didn’t touch her. How telling was that?
Jacqui blinked, her mind reeling. Half an hour ago he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her. And she’d been just as greedy. After believing they’d lost each other last night, their loving had been urgent and phenomenally satisfying. The way he’d held her afterwards, collapsed against his chest in the cooling water, she’d felt the epicentre of his attention. She’d even got a fillip of delight at the idea this retreat to the desert was as romantic as a honeymoon!
‘Don’t look like that!’
‘Like what? Like a woman you played for a fool?’
Asim clasped her hands before she could pull away.
‘It wasn’t like that.’
From somewhere Jacqui dredged up hauteur, anything to conceal the splintering pain.
‘No? What was it like, Asim?’
‘It was long planned.’ He lifted one shoulder. ‘I decided what I wanted in a bride and my advisors came up with a list.’
‘How very methodical.’
This time both shoulders rose and fell. ‘How else could I do it? It wasn’t as if I was going to fall madly in love.’ His mouth kicked up at one side in a bitter smile that twisted her heart. ‘Besides, it wasn’t just about choosing a wife but a queen. I’d be stupid not to think carefully and make the right decision.’
Jacqui pressed a hand to her chest, trying to sort her tangled emotions. Hurt pride and savage disappointment were easy. Harder to deal with was the sensation deep in her soul that she’d sustained a critical injury from which she wouldn’t recover. There was even part of her that understood Asim’s logic.
‘So all those royal dinners and receptions...’ She stopped, remembering the parade of beauties at his side. She’d spoken to some of them, articulate, sophisticated women who came from a completely different world from hers.
Just as Asim did.
The realisation was a punch to the belly that made her gasp.
‘Jacqui?’ He raised his hand to her face and she reared back.
‘Don’t!’ She drew a sharp breath, then another. ‘So I wasn’t supposed to care that you were sleeping with me while you courted other women?’ It was an old-fashioned word but it implied an intrinsic respect that had obviously been lacking in their affair.
‘I never courted any other woman.’ His voice grated. ‘I never got further than meeting them. I wasn’t interested in any of them.’
Jacqui laughed, the sound a broken rasp. ‘I’m sure your advisors have plenty more candidates. Let me guess. All from fine, Middle Eastern families, with excellent breeding and the best possible education, all—’
‘What would you have had me do?’ Asim burst out, his hold on her tightening. ‘Look in the soukhs and back alleys for a bride? Of course I searched for someone who’d be personally compatible as well as someone who could handle official royal duties.’
The devil of it was he was right. Wasn’t that what royals did, arrange dynastic marriages?
She drew a shuddering breath and looked towards the window framing the view of the oasis. The sky was indigo now. Her day of magic was over.
‘I never meant to hurt you, Jacqui. You must know that.’ This time when he palmed her cheek she didn’t have the strength to pull away. She shut her eyes and told herself soon she’d gather the will to move.
‘What’s between us...it wasn’t planned. You felt it too, that spark that drew us from the first. It kept getting stronger and stronger. I hadn’t planned to take a lover, now of all times, but resisting became impossible. You know it.’ He tilted her chin.
She opened her eyes and lost herself in the velvet depths of his gaze. Her heart felt bruised and battered and so full she thought it might burst.
‘I’ve never lied to you.’
‘Except by omission.’
Gravely he regarded her. ‘You’re right. It was dishonourable of me. I tried to pull back but I couldn’t resist you. You were always there, in my consciousness, and no matter how I tried I couldn’t keep fighting temptation.’ He shook his head. ‘I sound like a kid making excuses! The truth was, after that first night, the night I seduced you, I hadn’t a hope of putting you aside. You’re in my blood.’
His hands moved to her shoulders, as if to prevent her moving.
If he only knew. Nothing on this earth would make her shift now.
For all the hours they’d spent talking, Asim had never spoken so frankly about his feelings. It was as if he shied from admitting softer emotions.
How did he see their relationship? Lust? Friendship with benefits? Or something more?
‘And now?’ Her voice was stilted by tight vocal cords. ‘What happens now, Asim?’
His hands curled around her shoulders in a rhythmic caress. He leaned in.
‘I’ve told my staff to cancel all arrangements to meet...’ He stopped, as if choosing his words carefully. ‘Anyone else. It was a foolish idea.’
Jacqui’s heart soared as she read the warmth in Asim’s eyes.
‘It’s impossible to consider potential brides when you and I have this.’ One hand slid across her bare shoulder to stroke the sensitive skin of her neck.
‘Really?’
‘What do you expect?’ His mouth edged up in a smile. ‘You’re a lover who’d distract any man, Jacqueline. It’s nonsense even to think of such things while we’re together.’
Jacqui stiffened, her brain chugging into gear despite the distraction of Asim’s caresses.
While we’re together. Was she imagining it or did that imply an end date?
‘So you want to keep me as your lover?’
His brow knotted. ‘Of course! What we have is rare. I’ve never had this with any woman.’
‘For how long?’ Her lips felt stiff.
‘However long the passion lasts.’ His smile was taut as he stroked her neck. He plunged his fingers into her hair, massaging her scalp in a sensual caress that turned her to jelly. ‘What we have is too good to give up yet.’
Yet.
Despite the desire to loll back against his touch and let him seduce her into ecstasy, it wasn’t going to happen. Not this time.
She hadn’t slept with Asim expecting him to declare undying devotion. Like him, she’d been overwhelmed by the force and physicality of their passion. But always there’d been another element for her. Something more profound. Something she’d done her best to ignore.
Something that was all about emotion.
She could ignore it no longer. Not when it sliced her in two, knowing Asim relegated her to the role of sexual partner. Or was the word ‘mistress’ when the man you slept with ruled a country?
With strength she hadn’t known she possessed, Jacqui ripped herself from his hold and surged to her feet, stumbling out of his reach. She pressed a hand to her roiling stomach where her lunch threatened to rise.
‘Thank you for explaining where I stand.’ Her words were sharp as broken glass. ‘It’s good to have it spelled out.’ It wasn’t good; it was a raw, bleeding wound that made her want to curl up in a ball and die.
‘Jacqueline?’ Asim looked astonished. Was he really so sure she would be content with his scenario? Of course he was. She’d fallen into his arms like a ripe plum.
‘So I’m good enough for an affair but not for anything more lasting. Just a bit of sex on the side.’ Fury warred with hurt.
He catapulted to his feet. His dumbfounded look would have made her laugh if her throat hadn’t seized up.
‘It’s not like that!’
‘Isn’t it?’ He
r hands found her hips through the towel swathed around her. Out of the depths of her anguish came a strength she hadn’t known she possessed. It ran like fire through her veins, urging her on to blast him with the truth.
‘If it’s not like that, then let me suggest an alternative arrangement. Instead of testing all those aristocratic beauties, why not marry me?’
Her pulse thudded so loud she could barely hear herself speak but she refused to back down.
‘I can offer something they can’t. I’m in love with you.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
IN LOVE?
Asim formed the words but no sound escaped.
His eyes bulged and something slammed into his chest. Dazed, he looked down but there was nothing, no projectile, no wound. Yet it felt like he’d been shot. He felt the impact spreading through his torso, a shockwave that would have floored him if he’d been standing.
In love.
The words conjured every nightmare memory. They were his worst fear made real.
Jacqueline was speaking. He watched her lips move, heard a harsh rip of sound, but couldn’t make out the words.
He stared into her flushed face and read the fierce intensity of her amber gaze. Anguish and defiance glittered in equal measure, flaying him where he sat.
What had he done?
An instant later he was on his feet, stalking to the door, then the window, then back.
She was silent now, looking at him with huge, shadowed eyes.
‘You don’t mean it.’ She couldn’t.
But Jacqueline didn’t play games. From the first she’d been open, not coy. What you saw was what you got. No feminine wiles.
She stood watching him, her eyes too big in her face, her damp hair tousled round her shoulders and a bulky towel wrapped around her slim body. Yet she looked more regal than any of the aristocratic women his advisors had selected.
She looked at him as if he was something unsavoury she’d inadvertently stepped in.
‘I don’t say what I don’t mean.’ That throaty voice played havoc with him.
Asim shook his head, trying to clear it, telling himself there’d been a mistake.
There’d been a mistake all right!
He’d been so caught up in his need for her, giving in to the fever of attraction, he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her. Even when he’d realised how little sexual experience she had.
Instead of pulling back or taking time to make the ground rules clear, he’d thrown himself into their affair with a single-mindedness he couldn’t remember experiencing.
But Jacqueline wasn’t like his usual lovers— experienced, sophisticated, ready to move on when the time came, even if some of them had been a little wistful.
Jacqueline was from a different mould.
They said women confused sex and love. Was that what had happened? Perhaps she’d imprinted some fanciful, romantic dream on him because he’d been the one to open her eyes to sensual pleasure.
Asim swiped his hand over his jaw, the rasp of stubble loud in the aching silence.
Why hadn’t he taken better precautions? This was the sort of emotional minefield he’d sought to avoid all his life.
Perhaps because he hadn’t wanted to know what she felt, in case it meant leaving her before he was ready?
Guilt thwacked him across the chest. But there was indignation too. He’d never once intimated their affair might turn into something permanent. He hadn’t encouraged such notions.
But nor had he taken the precautions he should have.
‘I’m sorry, Jacqueline.’
The colour bled from her face, making her smattering of freckles stand out. She didn’t look regal now. She looked like a kid who’d been bullied. Or a woman dealt a fatal blow.
Instinctively he started towards her, his gut burning with guilt, but she shoved out a hand, palm towards him.
‘No!’ She gulped. ‘Don’t.’
Asim watched her breasts jump with each jagged breath. Each scrape of her breath scored his conscience.
He’d been intent on pleasure and she’d been...
Hell!
He spun away to pace the room.
‘I never meant this to happen.’
‘So you don’t love me.’ Her voice was surprisingly strong. He turned to find her backed up against the window, as if trying to get as far as possible from him. His belly cramped on the thought.
But he couldn’t lie. ‘I already told you. Love isn’t for me. I’ve seen too much of the damage it does.’
‘So you couldn’t...’ she paused then breathed deep ‘...come to love me?’
How proud she looked. Even now, laying herself on the line like this.
Slowly Asim shook his head. Regret and guilt ran through him like a knife through ripe fruit. He’d never believed it could happen, but he almost wished he could love her. He hated what he had to say. And that he had to say it to her.
‘I care for you more than I’ve ever cared for any woman, Jacqueline. I admire you. I like you. You’re one of the most remarkable people I’ve ever met.’ His voice vibrated with regret. ‘But don’t look to me for love. You’ll never find it. I was inoculated against it at an early age. My parents did that. Growing up watching love tear them apart and almost destroy Samira and me...’ He shook his head. ‘It’s impossible. I’m sorry.’
‘And what if you’re wrong? What if it wasn’t love that destroyed them?’
She stepped forward, eyes blazing. ‘Just because your parents were self-absorbed and caught in a destructive relationship doesn’t mean love is like that.’ Her fisted hands jammed onto her hips, pulling the towelling fabric tight against her slim figure.
Her passion called to him as it always had. He wanted to snatch at it, hold her close and burn in the fire that inevitably flared between them.
Except he knew it for lust, and she believed it to be something altogether more dangerous.
Asim ran his palm around the back of his neck where tendons pulled so tight pain pounded the back of his skull.
‘Whatever you call it, I don’t want it. I never will.’
Did she sway or was it a trick of the light? Asim braced ready to catch her.
But Jacqueline was made of sterner stuff. She wrapped her arms around her torso in a way that spoke of pain but she stood firm.
‘You believe you’ll never fall in love?’
It hadn’t happened yet. Asim opened his mouth to say so then thought better of the words. He’d hurt her enough. ‘It’s not possible.’
She bit her lip. To hold back words, or a cry of distress? Asim might be incapable of love but he was no ogre. He cared for this woman, respected her. The sight of her pain was impossible to bear.
‘Jacqueline...’
‘So you can’t offer your wife love.’
He frowned, his outstretched hand dropping to his side.
‘No. Not that.’ There would be respect and liking, and sex of course, but his bride, when he chose one, wouldn’t expect hearts and flowers in a dynastic marriage.
‘I see.’ She turned and leaned against the window, her neat profile clear against the night sky. Asim’s gaze lingered on the smooth curve of her shoulder and the supple turn of her calves beneath the voluminous towel. She was like a creature of moonlight, endlessly enthralling.
He turned away. He had to end this now.
‘I have a proposal.’
‘Yes?’ He swung back.
She laughed briefly and the mirthless sound made the hair on the back of his neck shiver. ‘A real proposal.’ She turned from the window to face him, her hands straight at her sides like a guard on duty. ‘Save yourself the time and bother of interviewing all those women and marry me anyway.’
A
sim stared. He couldn’t be hearing this.
‘I’m not a princess or an aristocrat but there are more important things.’ Her slender throat worked as she swallowed. ‘I’m intelligent and well-read. I speak your language and I’m getting more fluent every day. I’m loyal and honest and I can be discreet. You know that. I’m even-tempered.’ She shrugged and the ghost of a smile skated across her lips. ‘Most of the time I’m even-tempered.’
She paused, her eyes searching his, and he wanted to tell her to stop, not do this to herself, to him. But before he found the words she continued.
‘I’m a quick learner and with help I’ll pick up what I need to know about royal etiquette and protocol. Your grandmother likes me and Samira too. I’m sure they’d help.’ This time her smile was real if faint. ‘Samira would help me learn to dress the part. And I’m good with people; you know that. I can hold my own at your fancy receptions and with more time I’ll learn not to flinch at the sound of fireworks or a twenty-one-gun salute.’
‘Jacqueline—’
‘I’ll make a good wife,’ she said in a rush. She clasped her hands tight and he couldn’t dispel the uneasy sense that she pleaded with him.
Asim didn’t want that. It made him feel wrong inside. His gut, his chest, cramped. His vocal cords froze.
She stepped closer, her tone earnest.
‘I’ll give you the children you want and you’ll always know I’ll have your best interests at heart. None of those other women care for you like I do. That must count for something.’
He shook his head, for the first time in his life words failing him.
‘Asim—’
‘Don’t, Jacqueline. Please just...don’t.’
Spots of colour appeared on her cheekbones. She stood stock-still, watching him.
‘You don’t think I’m good enough?’ Her voice was ragged and something within Asim nosedived at the pain he heard there.
‘It’s not that. Never that. How could you think it?’ But he remembered her self-doubts and the way trauma had dented her confidence.
He wanted to lie and say it would be okay, that they could marry and she’d be happy. But he respected her too much.
