A Diamond for the Sheikh's Mistress
Kat went very still. This was why they couldn’t sleep together again. Zafir was getting far too close to the beating heart of her, and she didn’t want him to suspect that that was why she couldn’t repeat last night.
She looked at him and said, very deliberately, ‘I was infatuated with you, Zafir. Not in love. It was for the best. I wasn’t ready to step into such a hugely responsible role. I would have disappointed you. And, even though I know you would have been happy with a marriage based on respect and chemistry, it wouldn’t have been enough for me in the end.’
She knew that much now—indelibly. She needed to be loved in a way that had eluded her all her life. For herself. Not just because she represented some ideal and as such could be used as a commodity, as her mother had used her so shamelessly. And as she had used herself when she’d had to.
An impulse rose from deep inside her at that moment, a desire to unsettle Zafir as much as he unsettled her. ‘What about you, Zafir?’ she asked before she could stop herself. ‘Would a marriage in little more than name really have been enough for you? Are you so cold?’
Zafir was silent for a long moment, and then he said, almost harshly, ‘Yes, I am that cold. I was brought up to rule a country, not to fall in love. My parents’ marriage was borne out of a need to unite two warring countries. There was no love lost between them, and yet together they brought peace to a region. Surely that’s more important than the selfish desires of one person to indulge in the myth of a fairy tale?’
Kat tried to hide her shock. ‘I know things are different for you...that you’re not the same as the average person...’ Not remotely, said a little voice. ‘But I don’t think it’s too much to ask, Zafir...even for you.’
He started to pace, and as much as Kat had wished to unsettle him, now she regretted it. He stopped and looked at her accusingly. ‘Love tore my brother apart. Destroyed him.’
Kat put a hand on the back of a chair near to her, as if that might steady her. ‘What do you mean?’
Zafir had never really talked about his younger brother before, but she knew he existed. He had a reputation as a debauched playboy, and from the photos she’d seen of him in passing, in the gossip pages, he was as tall, dark and handsome as his brother, with a roguish edge that had earned him a place as one of the world’s most elusive bachelors.
Zafir said, ‘I had a younger sister—Sara. She was Salim’s twin. They were playing one day in a walled garden. They were messing about as usual...’ Zafir lifted a hand and let it drop. ‘I heard Salim scream and I ran to them. She was dead when I got there...a massive head injury... She’d fallen from the high wall...’
Kat wanted to go and touch Zafir as anguish filled her chest, but it was as if he was still surrounded by that wall. ‘Oh, Zafir... I’m so sorry. How old was she?’
He looked bleak. ‘Just eleven.’
He went over to a window and looked out, his back to Kat. She sat down in the chair.
‘They were so close, the two of them. From the moment they were born they had their own little world. Even spoke a language no one else could decipher. When she died...and when Salim realised how little our parents had valued Sara because she’d been a girl and not a boy...something broke inside him.’
After a long moment Zafir turned around. He was expressionless.
‘I saw what loving someone and losing them did to Salim. It changed him for ever. I have no intention of ever investing so much in one person that they have the power to destroy you.’
A million things crowded onto Kat’s tongue. She wanted to say to Zafir that Salim and Sara had obviously had a very strong twin bond, and of course Salim had taken her death hard, but that was no reason to believe Zafir would experience the same thing. But Kat’s tongue wouldn’t work. She guessed that whatever she said would be met with deep cynicism.
She stood up and tried to ignore the tightness in her chest. ‘I’m sorry you had to experience losing your sister like that, Zafir. I think I would have liked to know her...’
‘Yes...’ he said almost wistfully. ‘I often wonder how she would be now. I think she would be formidable.’
No more formidable than her older brother, thought Kat.
There was a sharp rap on the door at that moment, and Kat flinched.
Rahul’s anxious voice floated through the door. ‘Sire, the cars are waiting.’
Zafir’s gaze narrowed on Kat again as he called out, ‘Just a minute.’
She felt a frisson of danger as he walked over to where she stood with all the inherent grace and menace of a predatory animal. Their recent conversation was forgotten as that grey gaze skewered her to the spot.
‘You meant what you said? You’re certain this affair ends here?’
For a heart-jolting moment Kat thought that Zafir might just leave her here in Paris and go on without her. Maybe she’d pushed him too far, asking those questions...
She forced herself to nod.
Zafir snaked a hand around the back of her neck, under her hair. She went on fire.
He shook his head. ‘It’s not over, Kat—not yet. You can delude yourself that it is, but when you’re ready to be honest and admit that it’s not I’ll be waiting.’
The worst thing, as he stepped back and she struggled to find some pithy response, was the relief rushing through her that he wasn’t leaving her behind.