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Aisha cackled again and swept a hand out. “You’d prefer to on the run and, at best, live like this? Don’t get me wrong, I love it here. I get to hear the gentle swish of the waves every night that sometimes become a roar. I get to breathe in the salty tang of natural air. I get to live life on my terms. But I also live in constant fear that one day I might have all that taken away from me.”
“Shouldn’t your husband have given up by now? Surely time has dimmed his need for vengeance?”
Aisha shook her head. “Not at all. In fact I’d say quite the opposite. I’m the wife—his whore, as he so eloquently puts it—who ran off and humiliated him in front of his people. That I was never caught and trialed for my sins would be nothing short of salt rubbed into a wound, one that festers each and every day I’m not found.”
“I’m sorry,” Arabelle said softly, “if there was some way I could help you, I would.”
Mahindar looked at her, his expression thoughtful.
“Thank you, I do believe you mean that. Honestly though, just be thankful for the husband you have. Freedom will come to you, too, once you accept that fate brought you together.” She released Arabelle’s hand to pour them some arrak. “Enough about me, though. Let’s take our drinks onto the beach. I want to hear all about you two.”
A couple of hours later, Arabelle walked with Mahindar back to his holiday house. It had been lovely sitting on the beach with their drinks, which Aisha had topped up from a jug. And despite having breakfast Arabelle was a little lightheaded and foolishly happy.
It had been nice to see her husband so relaxed, his hand clasping hers and their toes digging in the sand side-by-side. It had been clear the weight of his country wasn’t a burden sitting heavily on his shoulders. In fact he could have been any man sitting on the beach with his woman.
Passersby, if there had been any, would have had no clue they all three were royalty.
But Arabelle would not be alone now in seeing Mahindar’s set jaw and heavy silence. “You risk a lot by hiding Aisha on your island.”
“Some things are worth the risk.” He glanced at her as he reached for her hand and intertwined his fingers around hers. “Not everything has to be about profit or glory.”
“Then why marry me?”
He turned to her, his eyes holding hers. “You really need to ask that?”
“Yeah, I do.” She lifted her free hand to brush some tendrils of hair out of her eyes, the sun hot on her face. “I always thought I’d marry a man of my choosing, a man I loved.”
His eyes looked pained at first, then fierce. “Is there no chance that I might be that man you love?”
She blinked, feeling oddly numb. “If there had been any chance of that happening it’s gone now. You took away my choice, my freedom, and along with it, any admiration and high regard I might have had for you.”
“You’ve been brought up in the western world and its ideals, I understand that, but don’t disregard or throw away the life we could have together.”
“A forced marriage shouldn’t be tolerated inanyculture,” she snapped.
He sighed heavily. “We can’t change what has already happened,habibi.But we can look ahead to our future.”
He sounded so sincere and so committed in doing just that, her body unwittingly swayed toward his. She jerked back, dismayed by her physical weakness toward him. “No apology? No regrets?” she asked bitterly.
He shook his head. “Why apologize for something I wouldn’t change? I desired you as my bride, and now I have you by my side as my sheikha, my wife.” He leaned close, his voice seductive and dark, “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
It was crazy the way her heart thumped, not in shocked outrage, but something closer to passion and need. She swallowed past her thick throat. “I thought you were better than this. I thought you were a sheikh who was above those outdated traditions that see women treated like objects, like assets.”
“I’m bringing about change,” he said gently. “But I refuse to force my people in abandoning their time-honored customs. I’m nudging their mindset to what I believe will be a better future, not ripping their beliefs out of their heads as though the past means nothing.”
“And what of my beliefs? My mindset? My past and my future?”
He tugged her closer, his bent head inches from hers. “Share it all with me,” he said intently. “Make me a part of your life and together we can make this country even better.”
His mouth was so damn close to hers, his lips that had redefined her opinion on kissing. Lips that had brought her to orgasm along with his—
She shook her head and stepped back, pulling her hand free. If she wasn’t careful she’d be following him around like a lovesick, sex-addicted fool. “You have advisors for that.”
He nodded sagely. “I do.” He crossed his arms. “But they are all men.”
She scowled. “Let me guess…no woman has been willing to step into such an exalted position for fear of reprisal?”
“No woman has even applied for that position.”
