The Sultan's Harem Bride

‘And a spouse. A family.’ He paused. ‘I’ve been putting off the day for years, far too busy enjoying myself when I was younger, and more recently dealing with the business of government.’

Jacqui sat back, letting the couch support her wilting frame. Asim and...a wife? She worked to swallow a knot in her throat.

What did this have to do with her?

At the back of her mind a tiny flicker of an idea ignited, but ruthlessly she blanked it out, refusing to let herself go there. This wasn’t some fairy tale, not with Asim looking so sombre. She knotted her hands in the thick, plush towelling on her lap.

‘No questions?’ he probed.

Hundreds of them. She settled for the most obvious. ‘Why tell me now?’

Again that tiny flare of excitement she couldn’t quite extinguish. But, reading his body language, Jacqui sensed there was nothing for her to be excited about. Anxiety drew every tendon and muscle tight.

Asim slowly exhaled and, despite everything, she had to work to keep her eyes on his face.

She was lost and she knew it. Too late now to think of drawing back to protect herself.

‘For weeks I’ve been checking out prospective brides. Almost from the night you arrived.’

Jacqui couldn’t stop the abrasive laugh that burst out. ‘But obviously not because of my arrival.’

The steely gleam in his eyes confirmed it and that tiny, optimistic spark burnt itself to a lifeless cinder. She knotted her hands, willing her lip not to tremble.

‘No, I was in a temper that night because someone had let the cat out of the bag. I’d been faced with some very obvious match-making in a very public situation.’

‘And you didn’t like the prospective bride.’

His nostrils flared. ‘I wouldn’t touch her with a barge pole.’

It was stupid to experience an easing of the pain cramping her chest at his words. But Jacqui didn’t want him attracted to anyone but her.

Then the import of his words sank in.

‘You’ve been checking out women all the time we were...?’ She swallowed convulsively, tasting rising bile.

Quickly he took the seat beside her, turning towards her. But he didn’t touch her. How telling was that?

Jacqui blinked, her mind reeling. Half an hour ago he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her. And she’d been just as greedy. After believing they’d lost each other last night, their loving had been urgent and phenomenally satisfying. The way he’d held her afterwards, collapsed against his chest in the cooling water, she’d felt the epicentre of his attention. She’d even got a fillip of delight at the idea this retreat to the desert was as romantic as a honeymoon!

‘Don’t look like that!’

‘Like what? Like a woman you played for a fool?’

Asim clasped her hands before she could pull away.

‘It wasn’t like that.’

From somewhere Jacqui dredged up hauteur, anything to conceal the splintering pain.

‘No? What was it like, Asim?’

‘It was long planned.’ He lifted one shoulder. ‘I decided what I wanted in a bride and my advisors came up with a list.’

‘How very methodical.’

This time both shoulders rose and fell. ‘How else could I do it? It wasn’t as if I was going to fall madly in love.’ His mouth kicked up at one side in a bitter smile that twisted her heart. ‘Besides, it wasn’t just about choosing a wife but a queen. I’d be stupid not to think carefully and make the right decision.’

Jacqui pressed a hand to her chest, trying to sort her tangled emotions. Hurt pride and savage disappointment were easy. Harder to deal with was the sensation deep in her soul that she’d sustained a critical injury from which she wouldn’t recover. There was even part of her that understood Asim’s logic.

‘So all those royal dinners and receptions...’ She stopped, remembering the parade of beauties at his side. She’d spoken to some of them, articulate, sophisticated women who came from a completely different world from hers.

Just as Asim did.

The realisation was a punch to the belly that made her gasp.

‘Jacqui?’ He raised his hand to her face and she reared back.

‘Don’t!’ She drew a sharp breath, then another. ‘So I wasn’t supposed to care that you were sleeping with me while you courted other women?’ It was an old-fashioned word but it implied an intrinsic respect that had obviously been lacking in their affair.

‘I never courted any other woman.’ His voice grated. ‘I never got further than meeting them. I wasn’t interested in any of them.’

Jacqui laughed, the sound a broken rasp. ‘I’m sure your advisors have plenty more candidates. Let me guess. All from fine, Middle Eastern families, with excellent breeding and the best possible education, all—’