Woman in a Sheikh's World

‘Yes, because it has nothing to do with my feelings for you. It has nothing to do with us.’

‘But it has everything to do with our marriage, doesn’t it?’ Her voice was a traumatized whisper. ‘You demanded that I trust you, and I did. I’ve never done that before, but with you I made that leap.’

‘Avery—’

‘You told me so much about yourself, Mal. But you didn’t tell me the most important thing of all, did you? That you have to be married, and that your marriage has to take place by the end of the month. And it seems everyone knows that but me.’ Her laugh was agonised. ‘Whenever I felt doubts, I looked at the evidence to prove that you loved me. I said to myself, He can’t wait to marry me.’

‘That is true. I do love you and I can’t wait to marry you.’

‘But the reason you can’t wait has nothing to do with the depth of your feelings and everything to do with the terms of your late uncle’s will.’

‘I made no secret of the fact that I have to marry.’

‘No, but you made it sound like a general thing, not something specific. You didn’t mention the will. You didn’t mention that you have to have a bride by a fixed date. It doesn’t even matter who the bride is, does it?’ Her voice rose. ‘Just any bride will do in order to fulfil the terms of your uncle’s will.’

‘I repeat, that has no bearing on us.’

‘So, postpone the wedding. Change the date.’

He didn’t tell her that he’d been trying to do exactly that. ‘You don’t understand.’

‘I understand that I was a pawn and so was Kalila.’

‘Kalila was an attempt by the Council to fulfil the terms of my uncle’s will, that’s true, but she was fully apprised of the reasons behind the marriage right from the start.’

‘So you were happy to tell her and not me?’

‘The circumstances were different. The only reason I proposed marriage to Kalila was to fulfil the terms of my uncle’s will.’

‘No wonder she ran.’ Her chin lifted. ‘What I don’t understand is why you felt able to tell her, and not me.’

‘I was honest with her about the terms of our marriage and I have been equally honest with you.’

‘That isn’t true.’

‘Yes, it is.’ He saw the flicker of surprise in her eyes at his savage response but he was past caring. Past hiding anything. ‘My reason for marrying you was love, but because you never believed in that love, because you never believed in us, I didn’t dare tell you about the terms of my uncle’s will. I knew you would use that as more food for your wretched insecurities as you have done before, so I told myself that I would tell you when our relationship had progressed a little further, when we had strengthened the bond, when I was confident that what we had could withstand a confession like that.’

She stood still, absorbing that. Her chest rising and falling as she breathed. ‘You should have told me.’

‘Apart from the element of full disclosure, my uncle’s will had no bearing on our future. I would have married you anyway. The timing of that is immaterial.’

‘But it isn’t immaterial, is it?’

‘I will tell you a story and you will judge.’ Mal paced to the far side of the room and stared out of the pretty arched window that looked down on the stables. ‘My grandfather had two sons. Twins. The right of succession naturally passes to the eldest twin—’ he turned, watching her face to be sure she understood the impact of his words ‘—but no one knew who that was.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘There was a crisis during the birth. An obstetric emergency. People were so concerned about the welfare of the mother that somehow the midwife who delivered the twins lost track of which was born first. A matter of little importance, you might think, but you’d be wrong. Unable to think of any other solution, my grandfather decided to divide Zubran and give one half to each son, on the understanding that whichever of them had a son first, he would be the successor. It meant that ultimately the land would be united again. And that was me. My uncle had no children, so there was only me and he was concerned by my partying and what he saw as my decadent lifestyle.’ His mouth twisted as he recalled the bitter exchanges they’d had over that particular subject over the years. ‘My father tried to assure him that my actions were nothing more than the normal behaviour of a young man. For a short time they fell out over it, but then they agreed a compromise. My uncle agreed to name me as his successor in his will, providing that I was married by the age of thirty-two. If by that age I hadn’t settled down, then the succession would go to a distant cousin.’

‘Which would keep the land divided.’

‘Yes. I always knew I would have to marry because it was essential that Zubran be reunited as one country, but I’d always assumed it would be a political marriage based on nothing more than economic gain. I’ve met many women, but not a single one who I would have wanted to spend a lifetime with. Until I met you.’

Her eyes met his. ‘Why didn’t you just tell me this before?’

‘If I’d said to you, “I have to be married by the time I’m thirty-two,” would you have listened to anything else I said? You, who are always looking for evidence to endorse your view that all relationships are doomed? Tell me you wouldn’t have interpreted that as a sign I was pursuing you for less than romantic reasons, just as you are now.’ He saw her shift slightly and gave a derisive smile. ‘Precisely. I would have lost you on day one and I had no intention of doing that. So I kept quiet until day two, and then until day three and I let the relationship run and hoped that if you found out, when you found out, the bond we shared would be sufficiently deep for you to trust me. Yes, the date by which I have to marry is almost here. It matters to my father and my people that Zubran becomes one country again. And it matters to me. But none of that has any bearing on my feelings for you and that is why I didn’t mention it.’

‘And if I had said no? What then?’