The Sheikh's Contract Bride. Teresa SouthwickЧитать онлайн книгу.
The idea produced a knot of resentment in him that seemed out of proportion to the amount of time he had known her, and that vexed him.
“Not anymore.”
“But you were?”
“I thought I was.”
“What happened?”
“He made me believe I was the only woman for him. Then he broke my heart when he married someone else.”
The knot inside him eased somewhat and made rational thought easier. Then he realized something. “Surely you were aware that, as my betrothed, you are not permitted to give your heart to another man?”
“It was only my heart, Malik. To my everlasting shame, I couldn’t help it. But at least I didn’t compound my mistake by sleeping with him.” She did not look away, but met his gaze directly.
They had just toasted honesty, and he had no reason to doubt her. “I believe you.”
She sat on the low stucco wall surrounding the terrace and sighed. “I bet you’re sorry you asked.”
“Your candor is refreshing. The truth is not always easy, but it is preferable to pretense.”
She was just sipping champagne and started to cough.
Malik sat next to her and took her glass. “Are you all right?”
She nodded and cleared her throat. “I swallowed wrong.”
“I do not like it when that happens. I also do not like the thought of you and another man.” That was the truth.
“As the relationship ended badly, there’s no real harm done.”
“I disagree.”
“So you’re going to hold it against me?” Was that hope in her voice? “If so, there’s always the option of calling off the wedding. I can certainly understand if that’s what you decide to do. Just say the word and I’ll go back to America and—”
“On the contrary,” he interrupted, noting that when she was nervous she was inclined to talk too much and too fast. “I believe a woman whose heart has known love once is more likely to look for it again.”
“Even though I told you I don’t want to be in love?”
“Even then.”
“You’re wrong.” She shook her head and her full lips pulled tight. “I never want to feel that way again.”
“Why?”
“If I’d never loved I never would have cried. And I promised myself it was the last time I would cry over a man.”
He could understand the sentiment. He had made himself a similar promise about not being vulnerable to the charms of a woman. In his father’s esteemed opinion Malik had shown poor judgment, and it could not happen again. Yet Malik’s duty was to marry and produce an heir to succeed him on the throne. A love that burned him like wildfire would be unacceptable. And that was why marrying the woman chosen by his father was the solution. With Beth he could aspire to a fully contained warmth and respect.
Their shoulders brushed as they sat side by side and stared into the romantically dimmed light of the suite. Malik felt the soft skin of her forearm graze him and flames of desire heat up his blood.
“I feel compelled to point out that our betrothal is a good thing in light of your experience.”
“How do you figure?”
“You can have all the benefits of marriage to the King of Bha’Khar without the messiness of dealing with love.”
“So I can be like a man?” She met his gaze. The gleam of mischief mixed with challenge darkened her eyes.
The look was growing on him, but in no way prepared him for what came next. She smiled a smile that seemed to steal all the air from his lungs.
He picked up one of her small hands, then touched his lips to her knuckles. Satisfaction filled him to see the gleam in her eyes replaced by awareness. But, like her, he did not wish to be vulnerable to love. He was most pleased that they were in agreement, because his betrothed was quite a tempting combination of spirit and beauty. Theirs was a contract, a business arrangement, and that suited him well.
He brushed his thumb over the spot on her hand that he’d just kissed. “I cannot order or proclaim that you fall in love with me. But, little one, you will never be like a man.” His voice dropped into the deeply seductive range. “And this man is extraordinarily grateful for that fact.”
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