The Sultan's Harem Bride

‘In a way.’ She paused, hesitating. Asim knew her weaknesses, her dreams and fears. What would happen if she shared her past too? She was used to protecting her privacy. Would opening up make her even more vulnerable to him?

He sat, waiting as if he had all the time in the world. The comfort of his presence, his touch, in this beautiful, peaceful garden worked its magic and she felt her shoulders relax and drop.

‘Half-brothers and step-brothers.’

‘Your parents were busy.’

‘You could say that.’ She huffed out a breath of laughter. ‘They split when I was ten. But there were no fights or shouting. Just...coolness. One day we were together and the next they were moving on to their new families.’

His fingers tightened. ‘They already had new families?’

Jacqui nodded. ‘My father was seeing a woman who already had three boys. The eldest was just a year younger than me. My mother moved away and by the time she remarried she was pregnant with the first of two sons.’

‘So you stayed with your father?’

Even after all this time Jacqui felt that familiar stab of hurt at being unwanted. Not once in her life had she felt truly loved.

Was that why Asim’s attention made her so happy?

Her mouth flattened. ‘No. They decided it was best to share responsibility so I went back and forth between the households.’

Asim shifted, closing the distance between them. ‘It doesn’t sound like you were happy.’

She lifted her shoulders. ‘The boys weren’t bad, though sometimes they really enjoyed getting their babysitter into trouble.’

‘You had a babysitter as well as your parents?’

‘No. I was the babysitter. My mother...’ Stupid to let it get to her after all this time. ‘My mother was more interested in her new family. I was a bit of an embarrassment to her and my stepmother made it clear I was only accepted in her house if I made myself useful.’

‘And your father?’ Asim’s voice was terse.

She shook her head at the sight of the militant spark in his eyes. ‘My parents aren’t bad people. They never maltreated me. They were just more focused on their new families.’

‘Leaving you adrift.’ There it was again, that trace of angry protectiveness. Like when he’d accused her of having a distorted body image. Secretly she adored arousing his protective instincts. Even for a capable, modern woman there was something thrilling about a take-charge man wanting to make things right for you.

‘I wasn’t adrift. I made my own way. I dreamed of becoming a journalist and learning independence early helped.’ He didn’t look convinced. ‘Besides, given the number of men in current affairs reporting, knowing how the male mind works is a distinct advantage. All those years coping with testosterone-filled teens was great grounding.’

Asim gave a bark of laughter. ‘That would explain why you’ve never been intimidated by me.’

Jacqui kept her mouth shut rather than correct him. There’d been times, especially in the beginning, when she’d felt completely out of her depth and more than a little daunted. That was before she’d realised that behind his tough exterior and ruthless decision-making lurked a man of compassion and surprising tenderness.

‘We’re well matched, Jacqueline. Both of us are pragmatists. Neither of us is foolish enough to fall for the fantasy of romantic love.’

She looked into those gleaming eyes, saw his satisfied smile and felt some of her bright, glowing pleasure grow dull and brittle.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

ASIM WALKED WITH his entourage through the throng, exchanging greetings. They’d assembled in the plain where festivities were traditionally held. Once, tribes had travelled days by horse or camel to get here. Tonight, on the tenth anniversary of his accession to the throne, most had driven and some had flown around the globe.

There was laughter and feasting after a day of entertainment: displays of horsemanship, archery and shooting as well as athletics, dancing and horse racing.

Satisfaction buzzed. Jazeer had prospered and developed in ways that made him proud. He wasn’t solely responsible, but his government had achieved much, far more than under his father’s unstable rule.

He neared the gateway to the royal enclosure, on high ground abutting the citadel. The crimson and gold Jazeeri royal banner flared and snapped in the breeze.

Movement beneath it caught his eye and he paused, his breath locking.

How did she do it?

He should be immune to Jacqueline Fletcher or at least accustomed to her presence. She spent every night in his bed and they shared more hours awake than he had shared with any previous lover. Yet still she made his heart hammer.