“Are you making fun of my desert?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Good.” His eyes gleamed. “Because I value every single grain in this desert.”
She smiled, and he smiled back and then his smile faded. He reached out and lightly touched the ornate gold chandelier dangling from her lobe. “These look beautiful on you.”
“They are exquisite,” she agreed.
“But you said you do not value jewels.”
She looked at him warily. “Not as much as some women, no.”
“But you value...talking.”
He sounded so pained that her lips curved and her heart turned over. “Sharing,” she explained.
“How do you feel about apologies?”
She lifted her brows. “In my experience, women love them. Men tend to hate them.”
He smiled faintly. “That seems true in my experience as well.” He hesitated. “And as difficult as it is for me to say I’m sorry, I owe you an apology. I was curt with you earlier, at the pool, and I focused my anger on you, when it’s your father I am angry with.”
She shifted uncomfortably. “You don’t have to apologize. Every word you said was true. Your mother was treated terribly—”
“Yes,” he interrupted quietly. “But that doesn’t excuse how I spoke to you. And it doesn’t make my behavior acceptable. You were reaching out to me, and sharing your experiences, and your feelings, and I lashed out, hurtfully. I am sorry for that. I take no pride in my faults, and as you have seen, I’ve many.”
For a long moment Jemma could think of nothing to say. It was hard to speak when her eyes burned and her throat ached. She was surprised, and touched, by his honesty, never mind the humility. “Of course I forgive you. We all have things that hurt us.”
His dark head inclined. “I am sensitive with regards to my mother, because my father mistreated her, and then I mistreated her, too.”
“You were just a boy at the time of their divorce.”
His features tightened. “I hated her for getting the divorce.” The words were said bluntly, sharply. “Was her pride so important? Was her pride more important than me? She knew when the divorce was finalized, she’d leave the country, without me.” He extended his legs as much as he could. “I’d be lying if I said that I understand now. Because I don’t. Maybe I won’t ever. But it was terrible then, being eleven, and knowing my mother chose to leave me.”
Jemma reached to him, put her hand on his arm. “Perhaps she didn’t think she’d really lose you. Maybe she thought things would turn out differently.”
“How?”
“Maybe she thought your father would back down, change his mind, not move forward and marry a second wife. Or maybe she had worked out some sort of alternative custody arrangement. Maybe your father had agreed to share you...or even grant her custody while you were a child.” Jemma leaned toward him, the delicate gold and diamond earring tinkling. “If your father had deceived her about the marriage contract, who knows what he might have said to her? Or promised her?”
He glanced at her. “But I didn’t know that as a boy. I didn’t know he was to blame. That he was the one who’d lied. So I blamed her.”
“You were angry with her.”
“I hated her.”
“And then as an adult you learned the truth.”
“Yes.” His lips curved but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “And I hated him.”
“You told him that?”
“No, not then.”
“But you did go to your mother? You tried to make amends?”
He sat still, expression blank. “I waited a long time. I waited too long. If I’d gone to her earlier, and tried to help her earlier, she might not have relied so much on others. On outsiders.”
“Like my father.”
He nodded. “I should have been there for her sooner.” His expression turned mocking. “You can see why I don’t like talking about the past. I was not a good person. I was a very destructive person, and that is why I’m so driven to redeem the Karims and restore honor to our family and Saidia. I cannot let my mother’s death be in vain.”
“I think you judge yourself too harshly,” she said gently.
“Power is never to be abused.”
“I have yet to see you abuse your power. If anything, you appear determined to be fair, even if your idea of justice is very different from how we, in the West, would view it.”
“Then perhaps I have begun to make amends.” He smiled at her, but his smile failed to light his dark eyes, then he glanced out the window, and nodded. “See those lights in the distance? That’s where we are having dinner tonight, my queen.”
Jemma gazed out at the swathe of darkness with the pinpricks of light. “Is that a restaurant?”
“No.” Amusement warmed his voice. “Not a restaurant. At least not the way you’d think of it. But it is where we’re eating.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
JEMMA WAS SPEECHLESS as Mikael escorted her into the tent. Plush crimson carpets covered the sand. Rustic copper lanterns hung from the tent’s wooden poles. More lanterns and candles glowed on low tables. From the fire pit outside the tent she caught a whiff of roasted lamb. As if on cue, her stomach growled.
Mikael looked at her. “Ready to eat?”
“Starving,” she admitted.
“You’re in luck. Our first course is ready.”
The grilled vegetables and meat were served with a couscous flavored with slivered almonds and currants. They scooped up the couscous and meat with chunks of warm sesame bread and Mikael was fascinating company, as always.
Jemma welcomed his stories about Saidia’s history and tribal lore, understanding now why he’d worn his robes tonight. This was his desert. His world.
Just then the evening breeze played with the sheer silk panels lining the tent, parting the material, giving her a glimpse of the white moon and the deep purple black sky.
The night sky was so bright and the stars dazzled. The sky never looked like this in London or New York. But in the vastness of the desert, with darkness stretching in every direction, the sky literally glowed with light.
“Beautiful night,” Mikael said, following her gaze.
She nodded. “Amazing. I feel like I’m in a fairy tale.”
He hesitated a moment. “I think after the honeymoon, we should go visit your mother. I don’t want her to worry about you. She has enough worries already.”
“You’d let me travel with you?”
“With me, and without me. Marriage isn’t a prison, and I’d never keep you from your family, or opportunities, provided you were able to fulfill your duties as my wife and queen.” He paused, studying her. “I have a house in London. It’s large, and comfortable. Well located. It needs you. Someone to fill it with people and parties.”
Jemma looked away, emotion making her chest ache. “Now you’re just teasing me. Tempting me with possibilities that are...impossible.”
“How so?”
“You shouldn’t dangle things before me. Or opportunities. I’m strong, but not that strong. If I stayed here, it shouldn’t be for things.” She turned to look at him again, her gaze locking with his. “It should be for the right reasons. It should be for you.”
For a moment there was just silence. And then Mikael leaned forward, captured her face in his hands and kissed her lightly on the lips before releasing her.
Jemma’s heart turned over. Her lips tingled. She nearly pressed her fingers to her mouth to stop the throbbing.
“Next time I see Sheikh Azizzi I must thank him,” Mikael said, his deep voice pitched even lower. “I was angry with him in Haslam. I was angry that he’d try to saddle me with you, but obviously he knew something I didn’t.”
“Saddle doesn’t sound very complimentary.”
“You weren’t happy about it, either.”
No, that was true. She was shocked, angry, desperate. But happy? No.
But she almost felt happy right now. For the first time in months and months she felt calm. She felt content. She felt as if she could breathe.
Which is why she had to be careful. She needed to keep her guard up. It was vital she not let Mikael get too much closer.
While they’d talked a servant had removed the dishes, replacing the platters and bowls with trays of delicate biscuits and dried fruits.
“You really like London?” Mikael asked her, taking one of the dates stuffed with cheese and rolling it between his fingers. “It was never a culture shock?”
“I liked it from the start. No one paid me any attention. I felt free there.” She selected one of the flaky almond cookies and broke it in half. “It’s different now. I’m known, and more alone than ever.”