A Whisper of Disgrace

She shuddered to think how they’d react if she’d been sleeping with anyone. ‘But we didn’t sleep together!’ she hissed. ‘You know we didn’t.’

‘And you think anyone is likely to believe that?’

Distractedly, Rosa rubbed the palm of her hand back and forth over her lips as his words hit home. With a shudder, she tried to imagine Alessandro and Santo’s reaction to the news that their baby sister had been behaving like a puttana. The family would still be reeling from her mother’s shocking disclosure—which would probably make their reaction even harsher than normal. She was still a Corretti, wasn’t she? And a female Corretti, to boot. Bottom line was that her innocence would be seen as having been compromised, and all hell would be let loose. She could imagine them sending out a gang of heavies to bring her back again. Even worse—they might come and get her themselves.

‘Mannaggia,’ she whispered unthinkingly. ‘What a fool I have been.’

It occurred to Kulal that not once during the entire conversation had she made any attempt to flirt with him, nor to show any kind of gratitude that he was offering a solution to her predicament. Why, she barely seemed aware of the bed in one corner of the room—a fact which was now beginning to dominate his thoughts. If it had been anyone else, he would have taken her into his arms and started to kiss her, but her face was so full of a simmering rage that he thought it unwise to try. He was beginning to realise that the situation was balanced on a knife edge, and that now he wanted her to agree to a plan which had initially repulsed him.

Because Kulal was an expert at finding the good in a bad situation. It was what had sustained him during his lonely childhood. He had refused to dwell on the fact that his mother’s love had been brutally torn from him, and to focus instead on the unparalleled freedom which he had enjoyed within the palace walls. He had learnt to be utterly self-sufficient and hit out at anyone who should ever dare to pity him.

Now he looked at Rosa Corretti and thought about the benefits of having her as his wife. He thought about what enjoyment her curvaceous beauty would afford him. A body which he had touched only briefly would become his to play with as he pleased! And once his passion for her had worn off, he could send her on her way.

‘A short marriage which can be dissolved once the dust has settled,’ he elaborated. ‘A marriage which could be beneficial to us both.’

She had lifted her head and was staring at him as if she was seeing him for the first time and didn’t very much like what she saw.

‘Beneficial?’ she snorted. ‘I think not. I think that marriage to you would be something of a nightmare.’

‘Are you so sure?’ he mocked.

‘Absolutely positive!’ she asserted, until she forced herself to confront an alternative which was even worse. She couldn’t go home and yet she couldn’t stay here with rapidly dwindling resources. Even if she ran to somewhere else and found herself a humble job, her family would surely come after her and find her. She forced herself to smile. ‘But I can see that it would have some advantages.’

‘You mean you’re now agreeing to my proposition?’

‘Only on certain conditions.’

‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible,’ he stated softly. ‘You don’t get to bargain with a sheikh.’

‘Oh, but I do!’ she said firmly. ‘Because you need this marriage more than I do!’

‘You think so?’

‘I know so.’ She shot him a look of pure challenge. ‘You’re afraid of what my brothers might do when they find out about our liaison, aren’t you?’

‘Are you out of your mind?’ His lips curled with derision. ‘Kulal Al-Dimashqi is afraid of no one, Rosa. Not now and not ever. But I love my country and the fallout from our ill-advised night together could bring shame on our royal house.’ There was a pause. ‘You have no need to worry about tying yourself to me for a lifetime if that is what gives you cause for hesitation, for I will happily give you a divorce once a suitable time has elapsed.’

Rosa mulled over his words, aware that he was offering her a way out. It might not have been the way she would have chosen, but she wasn’t exactly being dazzled by choice, was she? ‘How long?’ she questioned. ‘Will we have to be married?’

He glimmered her a cool smile. ‘How does a year sound?’

‘Like eleven months too long?’

‘I can assure you that it will fly by,’ he said smoothly. ‘Because time always does. Before you know it, the year will be up and I will send you on your way with a fortune big enough to guarantee your independence and a lifetime’s memories of sexual bliss.’