Woman in a Sheikh's World

‘I don’t think your ego needs the boost.’

He lowered his head, smiling against her mouth as he brushed his lips over hers. ‘Try me. Let’s see what happens.’

‘We’re too different. We want different things.’

‘I want you. You want me. What’s different about that?’

Her fingers were locked in the front of his shirt. ‘You’d expect me to give up my job.’

‘Not true, at least not in the sense that you mean.’ He trailed his fingers down her neck, touching the diamonds she wore at her throat. His diamonds. ‘You are a master of organisation—that is why your parties are always such a success. You can juggle a million projects at once. You have consummate social skills and you know just what to say to put people at ease. You are beautiful, poised, generous and warm. All these are perfect qualities for the role of Sultan’s wife.’

‘Are you asking me to marry you or are you offering me a job?’

‘I haven’t asked you to marry me yet. I’m leading up to that.’

‘Oh.’ She was trembling against him. ‘So you’re offering me a job. You’re asking me to give up everything and in return you give up nothing.’

‘Life is all about perspective, habibti. Some would say I was offering you everything.’

The dimple appeared at the corner of her mouth. ‘You have a high opinion of yourself, Your Highness.’

‘I’m sure a life spent with you will cure me of that.’ Hoping that he’d judged the moment perfectly, he slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out the ring. ‘Last time I did this badly—’

‘If we’re talking about a marriage proposal, you didn’t do it at all.’ Her tone was light but the look in her eyes was panic and he took her face in his hands and kissed her gently.

‘Breathe.’

‘I’m breathing.’

‘I want you to marry me, not because I want to ruin your life, but because I want to make it happy. I want to make you happy.’

‘Now that is arrogance, Your Highness—’ But her eyes were fixed on the ring. ‘Was it Kalila’s?’

The fact that she would ask him that question intensified his guilt. ‘I am willing to concede that sensitivity towards your feelings has not been my strong point, but even I would not be so thoughtless as to give a gift I bought for one woman to another. It belonged to my great-grandmother.’ Unsure of her response to that, he paused, watching as her face changed. ‘She had a long and happy marriage, so perhaps you’ll consider that auspicious.’

Carefully, she took it from him, turning it so that the stone winked in the sunshine. ‘It’s exquisite.’

‘But will you wear it?’

She hesitated for what felt like a lifetime but which was, in reality, only seconds. ‘This is huge.’

‘The diamond or the commitment?’

‘Both?’ But his words drew the smile he’d been hoping for and he took ruthless advantage of that and slid the ring onto her finger.

‘It doesn’t feel huge. It feels right. It fits, habibti. It’s an omen.’

‘I don’t believe in omens and neither do you.’

‘But I believe in us. And I want you to believe in us, too. Will you marry me?’ He tilted her face and she stared up at him, more vulnerable than he’d ever seen her.

‘Yes.’ She stumbled over the word. ‘But if you hurt me, I’ll kill you.’

He laughed. ‘That sounds fair to me.’ And if she still hadn’t said that she loved him, he told himself he had to be patient.

They spent two more days in the desert. Two days during which they only left the bed to swim, ride and eat. Days during which Avery was conscious of the weight of the ring on her finger. She was aware of it all the

time, aware of him all the time. And the feelings inside her were a stomach-churning mixture of excitement and trepidation.