The Sheikh's Princess Bride

‘There was no question.’ Heat seared him with each passing second. He had to get out of here before his resolve cracked.

She drew herself up. Yet even when she looked downright regal all he could think of was how good she’d feel in his arms, melting against him. How good she’d taste.

‘I want to sleep with you.’ Her words were pure, husky temptation to a man on the edge of control. ‘But I want more too. More of us. The way we were before I told you about the baby.’ Her eyes held a dewy sheen of happiness he’d thought reserved for their child. But now Samira was looking at him in a way that did strange things to his internal organs. He couldn’t identify the sensation and that disturbed him.

‘Being with you...’ Her shoulders lifted as she spread her arms palm upwards. ‘I can’t tell you how much our marriage means. It’s changed me. I never expected I’d feel anything like this.’

Tariq stiffened.

She hadn’t expected to feel anything like this?

Like what?

He remembered Jasmin’s soft, hopeful gaze whenever he’d entered a room, whenever they were together. They’d contracted to marry but somewhere during their dynastic marriage she’d fallen in love.

And he’d been unable to return that love. He’d felt her disappointment in every searching, loving look.

Tariq swallowed hard, tasting the rusty metal tang of horror as he registered the softening in Samira’s expression.

‘I want to be a wife to you in every way, Tariq.’ Her smile could light up a city. But it could devastate too. His chest cracked wide as he saw what was in her eyes.

Love.

Love for him.

A love he was congenitally incapable of returning.

His breath caught, snared by his galloping heartbeat. Sweat broke out across his forehead and there was a drumming in his ears as past and present merged. Pressure built in his chest as if from welling emotions. Except he didn’t do emotion, not of that sort.

This couldn’t be happening again. A wife who looked to him for love. A wife carrying his child. A wife who yearned for something that wasn’t in him to give. A wife he feared he couldn’t keep safe from hurt.

The day Jasmin had died the doctor had looked at him with sympathy, believing he dealt with a heartbroken husband. Tariq had felt like a sham, utterly unworthy.

Tariq had assured himself theirs was a decent marriage, a practical one, that he’d been a thoughtful and loyal husband even as he’d regretted Jasmin’s unfortunate tendre. But it was only when she’d died that the enormity of what he’d done had smashed into him, blasting away cosy excuses. Jasmin had lost her life because of him and his need for heirs.

Now the past reinvented itself. He saw it in Samira’s hopeful expression. In her outstretched hand.

Tariq’s heart slammed against his ribs, his skin breaking into a clammy sweat as the walls pushed in on him, the weight of them crushing the air from his lungs.

He stepped back and watched her arm fall. His gut went into freefall as he saw surprise morph into hurt. But he couldn’t lie. Not even for her. ‘I’m sorry, Samira, but you’re asking too much.’

Tariq spun on his heel and strode from the room.

CHAPTER TWELVE

YOU’RE ASKING TOO MUCH.

The words had hung in the air between them too long. It had been weeks since Tariq had burst out with them and still they bit deep, hurting just as keenly as the day he’d said them.

Samira looked down the long table lit by antique candelabras. Beyond the twenty guests invited to this intimate royal dinner sat Tariq, resplendent in white robes and a head scarf edged with gold.

He faced her down the table but his attention was on his guests. He conversed with the American ambassador and some leading entrepreneurs while at the same time making a couple of visiting provincial leaders feel welcome.

Tariq handled his responsibilities easily. He was an expert negotiator. According to his staff he was a born administrator. His people loved him because he was a man of action who ruled fairly and provided well for them.

The twins adored him. He made time for them in ways her father never had. And, if Tariq was a fraction too strict on discipline, she and Sofia moderated his demands.

Few men could handle so many responsibilities. Yet Tariq did. Nothing was too much effort.

Except being with his wife.

That was asking too much.

Bile filled Samira’s mouth and she choked it back, her knife and fork clattering to her plate. The delicious meal turned to ashes in her mouth.