Tally’s heart dropped into her stomach and she knew, she knew, what he was going to say next and he was right—she wouldn’t like it one bit.
He took her wrists in his hands, and lifted one hand up, and then the other, as if reading them. “You,laeela, belong to me.” He lifted both her hands and turned her palms toward her. “See, it says so here.”
She curled her fingers into fists. “It doesn’t.” But she knew it did. Knew now that was why the women giggled as they dyed her hands, and why Tair had smiled that smirking smile of his.
Tally swallowed around the lump of anger. “Show me where it says that.”
With the tip of his finger he traced one of the intricate designs. “This,” he said, “is the Arabic symbol for love—”
Tally flung her head back even as she tried to break free of Tair’s clasp. “Love?”
He shrugged, not releasing her. “I’m just reading what it says.”
Tally balled her hands so he couldn’t read anymore. “I’ll make sure I get this stain scrubbed off immediately.”
“It’ll take a couple weeks…even scrubbing hard.”
“Weeks,” she repeated stonily.
“Usually months.”
“Months.”
“It’s to last for the duration of our honeymoon.”
Honeymoon! “There’s no honeymoon.”
“Not until we’re married, no. But we will have a honeymoon. It’s custom—”
“I don’t care if it’s the damn law. But we’re not having one as we’re not getting married.”
“We are. Sorry. The papers have all been drawn.”
“Undraw them.”
“Can’t. It’s as good as done. Give up, you won’t win this one.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“YOU’REnot serious,” Tally whispered.
Tair’s dark eyes narrowed “Afraid so.” He paused. “Where did you think I went?” he asked mildly, leaning back, letting her go free.
Tally wasted no time dragging her chair backward, defiantly moving away. “I haven’t a clue and as I’m sure it has nothing to do with me, I don’t want to know.”
“Actually it had everything to do with you. I went to get the Mullah from town.” Tair smiled—always a dangerous sign. “The judge. He’s the one that will marry us.”
“And what do I get for marrying you?” she mocked.
He extended his hands. “My name. My home.”
“Which I don’t want.”
“My protection.”
“Which I don’t want, either.”
“But which you need.” He contemplated her rebellious expression for a long pensive moment. “You seemed eager to marry me four nights ago. Why the change?”
Color surged to her cheeks as she remembered their passionate night together. Sex with him had been so intense, so explosive. “It was a mistake. A moment’s madness.”
“A moment’s madness,” he repeated thoughtfully.
“Yes. And we can’t marry. I won’t get married, not in these circumstances, not when we have so many differences.”
“Which are?”
“Everything.”
“Name one.”
“Religion,” she said, holding up a finger.
“Name two.”
“Politics.”
“Name three.”
“Disparities about gender and culture.”
He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing, jaw jutting. “So that’s it?” he asked, chin lifting and in the sunlight she could see the bristles of his beard, the gleaming texture of his golden skin, the lines at his mouth and she had to fight the impulse to lean forward and kiss that mouth. Her mouth. Her man. She clenched her hands in her lap, sick at heart.
She wanted him to say the words she needed, wanted him to give her the tenderness she craved. She needed him to love her. Love her.
Tally left the table, exhaled in a rush as she crossed the small patio with its pots of jasmine and citrus. The air smelled like perfume and sunlight patterned the creamy stone pavers in shades of silver and gold.
Tair’s voice followed. “This is not Seattle or Bellevue or wherever you’re from. This is the desert, a different world with different laws and rules. You are mine to protect, and I will protect you, whether you want it or not.”
Tally turned and took a furious, frustrated step in his direction. “You can’t make me do this—”
“I can. I can even say the vows for you, make the promises. You don’t even have to come to the ceremony—although it’d be nice to see you there tomorrow—and we’d still be joined as husband and wife.”