The Sultan's Choice

Distaste curdled his insides, and he got up and paced impatiently while he waited for Samia.

At least he would never subject her to what his mother had had to endure for years, despite whatever justification his father might have believed he had. Sadiq had always vowed he would do things differently. He would have nothing but respect for his wife and would treat his heirs like human beings, not pawns.

Samia took a breath and stepped back into the main suite. She was still stinging inside at Sadiq’s cold condemnation of the outfit—and her. She hadn’t looked at him once but she hadn’t had to to know that his eyes had inspected every single piece of her and found it lacking. It had taken all of her strength to stand there and endure it. Even her rejection at the hands of that college boy was paling into insignificance next to Sadiq’s silent but damning appraisal.

She stepped back into the suite to see Sadiq looking so broodingly at the floor that she had to battle the almost overwhelming feeling of déjà vu and curb the impulse to ask him if anything was wrong. She almost laughed at herself. As if she needed to ask! He was marrying her. And it was all wrong—if only he would agree with her.

He turned to look at her and her hands gripped her jacket. She felt shabby and more unsuitable then ever to be Queen. ‘That dress—I don’t think it—’

His hand slashed through the air. ‘It did nothing for you because it was far too obvious and your beauty is not obvious. It’s subtle. Clearly this was the wrong place to come. We’ll have to go to Paris instead.’

Samia’s mouth opened but nothing came out. She hadn’t known what he would say but she hadn’t expected that. For a moment her weak heart had fluttered to hear him describe her as beautiful, but then the subtle had struck home. It was just another way of saying she was plain.

Sadiq was already pacing away and speaking rapidly into his phone in fluent French, taking her arm to hustle her out of the suite and the shop. Anger was starting to bubble low in her belly at his heavy-handed behaviour, but now he was on his third phone call and she could tell from the guttural Arabic that it was about politics in Al-Omar. Samia was used to her brother switching off and becoming impossible to deal with at times like this, so she just crossed her arms and seethed silently beside Sadiq.

Within an hour they were ascending into the clear blue sky from a private airfield in the middle of London. Samia wasn’t unused to private air travel—her own family had a fleet of jets and helicopters—but she and her brother only used them when absolutely necessary. Both were keenly aware of the environment and their carbon footprint, and of wanting to set an example.

She wasn’t aware that Sadiq had terminated his phone call until a drawling voice asked, ‘Are you going to ignore me for the entire flight?’

Samia turned to face him, instantly cowed by how gorgeous he looked with his jacket off and his shirt open at the throat. She wanted to know what he would look like in jeans and a T-shirt.

Her wayward imaginings made her snap more caustically than she would have intended, ‘I could ask the same of you. And I’ve told you all along how unsuitable I am, so I don’t appreciate your silent, cold condemnation when I don’t morph into the bride you want.’

His eyes narrowed on her. ‘I meant what I said back there, Samia. I don’t hand out platitudes or compliments for the sake of it. It’s not my style. I simply recognised that the establishment I’d chosen was entirely wrong for you.’ His eyes travelled up and down her body with leisurely appraisal, and then back to her face, which was hot. ‘Like I said, your beauty is subtle and needs a more … delicate approach.’

Samia still refused to believe for a second that he really meant what he’d said. This was just his way of placating her.

And now he was taking her somewhere they could camouflage her better. Stiffly she said, ‘Well, I hope it’s worth the expense and environmental impact of taking a private plane all the way to Paris just to dress me.’

Dark amusement made his eyes glint and Samia’s heart speed up.

‘Don’t worry, Princess. I can assure you that our carbon footprint will be as minimal as possible. One of my own team of scientists is using this plane as a vehicle to test out more environmentally friendly fuels. So, actually, we’re providing valuable research.’

Samia refused to let his humour infect her. ‘You really have an answer for everything, don’t you?’

He smiled properly now, and it made him look ten years younger and less cynical. ‘Of course.’

Samia had to turn away. He was far too attractive at that moment, and she feared that he’d see something of the ambiguous emotions she was feeling on her far too expressive face. That she found him attractive was undeniable, but that was just pure human reaction to one of the most virile specimens of man on the planet. She denied to herself that the attraction went any deeper than that—that what she felt went beyond the physical.

‘Believe me,’ he said now, ‘when we announce our engagement to the press on Monday you’ll be grateful for the armour of suitable clothing.’

‘Monday …’ Samia looked around, feeling herself pale. If there was any last moment when she could try and get out of this, it was now.

She was unaware of the wistful look on her face or the way Sadiq’s tightened.

‘Don’t even think about it, Samia. We’ve gone too far to turn back now. There’s already been speculation in the papers after that photo. Now they’re just waiting for an announcement.’

Her eyes narrowed on Sadiq and any hope was doused at the steely look on his face. Bitterly she said, ‘It’s so easy for you, isn’t it? You’ve had your life of hedonistic freedom, and now you’ve decided to marry it’ll be executed with the minimum of fuss and maximum haste.’

Sadiq’s eyes flashed. ‘You’ve had your freedom too, Samia. As a modern twenty-five-year-old woman you can’t expect me to assume you’ve led such a nun’s existence that you’re still a virgin?’

Instantly reacting to his mocking tone with a visceral need to protect herself, Samia taunted, ‘You mean you don’t mind that you won’t be getting a pure wife on your wedding night? I would have thought with the amount of care you put into choosing your oh-so-suitable bride that it would have been part of the checklist.’

Their gazes locked. Samia was breathing far too rapidly for her liking. And she couldn’t believe she’d more or less lied so blatantly. She was leading him to believe she’d had plenty of lovers.

A cynical smile curved Sadiq’s sensual mouth. ‘It doesn’t bother me in the least,’ he drawled. ‘Of course I didn’t expect a pure bride. I’m not so old-fashioned or such a hypocrite. I’ve got a healthy sexual appetite and quite frankly the thought of sleeping with a novice is not something I relish.’

A sudden pain lanced Samia. Ever since that experience in college she’d locked away any romantic desire that she would one day give herself to someone who would appreciate her for unique self. She’d told herself she didn’t harbour such dreams. And now she had to face the prospect of Sadiq’s horror when he found that he had indeed bagged himself an innocent bride on their wedding n