‘So you couldn’t...’ she paused then breathed deep ‘...come to love me?’
How proud she looked. Even now, laying herself on the line like this.
Slowly Asim shook his head. Regret and guilt ran through him like a knife through ripe fruit. He’d never believed it could happen, but he almost wished he could love her. He hated what he had to say. And that he had to say it to her.
‘I care for you more than I’ve ever cared for any woman, Jacqueline. I admire you. I like you. You’re one of the most remarkable people I’ve ever met.’ His voice vibrated with regret. ‘But don’t look to me for love. You’ll never find it. I was inoculated against it at an early age. My parents did that. Growing up watching love tear them apart and almost destroy Samira and me...’ He shook his head. ‘It’s impossible. I’m sorry.’
‘And what if you’re wrong? What if it wasn’t love that destroyed them?’
She stepped forward, eyes blazing. ‘Just because your parents were self-absorbed and caught in a destructive relationship doesn’t mean love is like that.’ Her fisted hands jammed onto her hips, pulling the towelling fabric tight against her slim figure.
Her passion called to him as it always had. He wanted to snatch at it, hold her close and burn in the fire that inevitably flared between them.
Except he knew it for lust, and she believed it to be something altogether more dangerous.
Asim ran his palm around the back of his neck where tendons pulled so tight pain pounded the back of his skull.
‘Whatever you call it, I don’t want it. I never will.’
Did she sway or was it a trick of the light? Asim braced ready to catch her.
But Jacqueline was made of sterner stuff. She wrapped her arms around her torso in a way that spoke of pain but she stood firm.
‘You believe you’ll never fall in love?’
It hadn’t happened yet. Asim opened his mouth to say so then thought better of the words. He’d hurt her enough. ‘It’s not possible.’
She bit her lip. To hold back words, or a cry of distress? Asim might be incapable of love but he was no ogre. He cared for this woman, respected her. The sight of her pain was impossible to bear.
‘Jacqueline...’
‘So you can’t offer your wife love.’
He frowned, his outstretched hand dropping to his side.
‘No. Not that.’ There would be respect and liking, and sex of course, but his bride, when he chose one, wouldn’t expect hearts and flowers in a dynastic marriage.
‘I see.’ She turned and leaned against the window, her neat profile clear against the night sky. Asim’s gaze lingered on the smooth curve of her shoulder and the supple turn of her calves beneath the voluminous towel. She was like a creature of moonlight, endlessly enthralling.
He turned away. He had to end this now.
‘I have a proposal.’
‘Yes?’ He swung back.
She laughed briefly and the mirthless sound made the hair on the back of his neck shiver. ‘A real proposal.’ She turned from the window to face him, her hands straight at her sides like a guard on duty. ‘Save yourself the time and bother of interviewing all those women and marry me anyway.’
Asim stared. He couldn’t be hearing this.
‘I’m not a princess or an aristocrat but there are more important things.’ Her slender throat worked as she swallowed. ‘I’m intelligent and well-read. I speak your language and I’m getting more fluent every day. I’m loyal and honest and I can be discreet. You know that. I’m even-tempered.’ She shrugged and the ghost of a smile skated across her lips. ‘Most of the time I’m even-tempered.’
She paused, her eyes searching his, and he wanted to tell her to stop, not do this to herself, to him. But before he found the words she continued.
‘I’m a quick learner and with help I’ll pick up what I need to know about royal etiquette and protocol. Your grandmother likes me and Samira too. I’m sure they’d help.’ This time her smile was real if faint. ‘Samira would help me learn to dress the part. And I’m good with people; you know that. I can hold my own at your fancy receptions and with more time I’ll learn not to flinch at the sound of fireworks or a twenty-one-gun salute.’
‘Jacqueline—’
‘I’ll make a good wife,’ she said in a rush. She clasped her hands tight and he couldn’t dispel the uneasy sense that she pleaded with him.
Asim didn’t want that. It made him feel wrong inside. His gut, his chest, cramped. His vocal cords froze.
She stepped closer, her tone earnest.