The Sheikh's Destiny (Desert Nights 3)

Her voice was as lifeless as her gaze. “I’m only serving my purpose to you. You’re serving yours to me now, so it’s a fair deal. But if you don’t stop saying you love me, I will stop being with you at all.”

Unable to look her rejection in the eyes anymore, he rose off the bed, needing to seek refuge anywhere but where she was.

Before he exited the room, he turned to her, announced his submission to her sentence. “I’ll agree to anything you want.”

* * *

What Laylah wanted amounted to hell on earth.

The next weeks set the pattern. She wouldn’t let him into her life in any form. Not during the day. At night, she drew him back into the vortex of need. Even with her emotional coldness, their physical passion blazed out of control, scorching his body in satisfaction, and his soul in sorrow.

He’d reached the point where he knew. Though he’d take anything he could have of her at the price of his own destruction, he couldn’t.

He’d soon be forced to end this.

* * *

“I’m now forced to make a decision.”

Amjad sounded serious. For a second. Then he wiggled his eyebrows at Laylah, Haidar and Jalal where they sat side by side in his office. He’d summoned them urgently an hour ago and had refused to say anything until they were all there and sitting before him like an audience.

Amjad went on, “But then I’m the only one qualified to make one around this region.”

Haidar, who sat beside Laylah with Jalal on her other side, huffed. “Spare us, Amjad.”

“How can I? You can’t live without my harassment.” Amjad turned his smirk on her. “But I lied. I’ve long made my decision. It’s in your court now, Laylah.”

He wanted her to pass her verdict. On Rashid.

Though he’d made his, if she let her personal turmoil dictate an unfair one, he’d obey it.

It was up to her to deprive Rashid of becoming king.

But she’d never been vindictive this way, not even toward her worst enemy. And Rashid wasn’t even... Was—was... Whatever he was, it had been heartache talking when she’d threatened that. Even at the height of her agony, even now as she felt her time with him ticking away, her belief in Rashid as the best king never wavered.

“Sorry, guys.” She winced at Haidar and Jalal. “But I do believe he’s the best man for the job.”

“Our Aal Shalaan treasure has spoken.” Amjad’s sardonic smile grew dissecting. “So...is this your revenge? Pushing him onto the throne you believe he manipulated you to get, when you know you’re only shoving him into a pit of thorns?”

Her lips trembled. “You seem to be quite comfy on yours.”

“Only because I have Maram on my lap. Rashid no longer has you.” So he knew how things remained between her and Rashid. Everyone probably did. Amjad’s gaze bored into her. “Sitting on that throne without you will be agony without the ecstasy.”

Her heart twisted. “Rashid is nothing like you. He doesn’t need anyone.”

Amjad huffed. “Did I ever look like I needed anyone? Turns out I do need one person. Maram. Like Rashid needs you.”

How she wished that were true.

She rose before the tears that lurked a word away escaped. “I gave you my opinion. It’s your decision now who to back.”

* * *

Amjad had backed Rashid.

Haidar and Jalal, to Laylah’s surprise yet again, endorsed his decision wholeheartedly.

Rashid would be king of Azmahar.

His joloos, sitting on the throne, was in two days.

This had been what he’d wanted so fiercely. What he deserved. What would he do now that he’d gotten it?

She was giving herself a nervous breakdown wondering when he walked into the suite in his house where he’d left her that first night, and every night since.

He never came to her this early. That, along with the intensity in his gaze, had hope suddenly surging inside her.

She found herself on her feet. He was her man, her soul, and even if he never loved her like she loved him, with all his passion, he must care as much as he was capable of. They would share a tough life, filled with duty and responsibility, but they’d make it if they had each other, and their baby...

Everything came to a stumbling halt as he caught her seeking hands. And the look in his eyes.

It was as if he was saying goodbye.

Then he said worse. “I wish it could have been different, but there’s no use wishing. I can’t...sleep with you anymore.”

She’d thought her heart had been pulverized before. It hadn’t been, or it had started to heal. He smashed it all over again. This time she knew there would be no putting it back together.

Agony suddenly poured from her. “You never ‘slept’ with me. The only time I woke up to find you still with me was that first night, and you only stayed to clinch your deal.”

He said nothing. Just kept looking at her as if he, too, was devastated. It made her insane with pain.

“I have no doubt you’ll do everything possible to claim the baby when it’s born, but I demand my every right to it documented now, not then.”

“Laylah...”

She spoke over him. “As for us, if you won’t ‘sleep’ with me, then I have no use pretending this marriage is real. Our deal is over. I want a divorce. Now.”

He closed his eyes. Then before her heart could break on one more fractured beat, he turned and strode out.

Collapsing where she stood, she wept until she felt herself coming apart.

The moment he had what he wanted, he’d thrown her aside. Just like her mother had prophesized.

But he wouldn’t do it yet. Not before he sat on that throne that meant everything to him.

Like she meant nothing.

* * *

The day of the joloos had come.

Rashid hadn’t.

When Maram had said he hadn’t come to the rehearsal ceremony, Laylah thought he’d show up at the last moment. He hadn’t. Nobody knew where he was, or what had happened. According to everyone, he seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth.

She was going out of her mind.

Something terrible must have happened. There was no other explanation for why he’d miss the most important day of his life. And if something had happened to him...

Another storm of weeping wrung her out as she prayed, again and again and again.

Let him be okay, let him fulfill his destiny. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t love me. I love him. I always will...

“Laylah.”