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Kalila didn’t seem to feel anything, care about anything, so long as she had two things: money and power. She wanted the prestige of being Her Highness, the Sheikha of Makhtar, the mother of the future heir—and the pleasure of enjoying herself with any man she pleased during the length of their marriage.
She was shallow. Terminally shallow.
And once, Sharif suddenly realized, he’d been just like her. Oh, he’d always cared about doing his duty by his country, and by his family. But other than that, he’d cared for nothing and no one. He’d wasted endless days on meaningless love affairs, trying to distract himself from his own empty soul.
Then he’d had the grace and fortune to meet Irene. It was the miracle of his life.
And the tragedy.
“Not a word in reply?” Kalila took a step toward him, frowning. “What has changed in you, Sharif?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re different somehow. You...” She sucked in her breath, covering her hand over her mouth with an astonished giggle. “But wait. Don’t tell me you’re actually in love with her?”
“Be quiet,” he snapped.
“Your sweet virgin. So tender. So true...”
“She’s worth a thousand of you,” he said.
“You love her.” Kalila cackled a laugh. “The great Emir of Makhtar is chained down at last. How very amusing to see you caught this way. Just like—”
“Like what?” he said, expecting an insult. She looked away.
“Nothing,” she muttered. “It’s just funny, that’s all. Your precious Miss Taylor—”
He grabbed her wrist.
“Don’t ever,” he said in a low, dangerous voice, “speak her name again.”
Kalila blinked, then gave another low laugh. “Have it your way.” She ripped her bony arm from his grasp. “Keep your sweet memories. I will take my throne.” Her eyes were feverishly bright. “I think this marriage will suit me very well.”
CHAPTER TEN
FIVE DAYS LATER, Irene was in Colorado, kneeling on the ramshackle porch of her old house, boxing up the last items to take north to their new place in Denver. There was surprisingly little to pack. Some of her family’s old possessions, worn clothes like her mother’s pink terry hot pants with the word Tasty emblazoned across the backside, had gone straight into the trash. A few other things had gone to the local charity shop. But her sister and her mother had already taken the things they cared about when they’d left here four days ago.
Her sister, Melissa, was already unpacking boxes in the brand-new condo in Denver that Irene had leased, right between the local community college and Colorado’s best private rehab facility, where their mother had checked herself in two days ago. Melissa was studying to take her GED test, to compensate for never having graduated from high school, and looking eagerly through the college course book. A rough road might still lie ahead, Irene knew, but it was going to work out. They were going to be settled and secure, and have the chance to be happy.
“Thank you, baby,” her mother had said, openly weeping when she hugged Irene close, the last moment before she went into rehab. “I wanted to be a good mother to you. I tried. But I didn’t know how.” She wiped her eyes hard. “I’m going to learn.”
Melissa had cried, too—when she first saw the luxury condo on a lovely, tree-lined street in Denver, and the college book sitting on the kitchen counter. “You remembered how I used to talk about becoming a dental assistant?”
Irene nodded.
“Do you know how much they make per hour?” Melissa demanded, then she, too, wiped her eyes. “Plus, they hang around with handsome single dentists all day...”
“You’d be a great assistant. Or you could be a dentist yourself.”
“Me?”
“Sure.” Irene had shrugged. “Let all the sexy male dental assistants come to you.”
“You think I could?” her sister had breathed as if considering the idea for the first time. “And you’d pay for me to go to dental school?”
“Any kind of school you want.” Irene had reached out and taken her sister’s hand. “I believe in you.”
Melissa blinked back tears. “I always thought you judged me...”
“I did,” Irene said. “I did and I’m sorry. I didn’t understand then how powerful sex and love can be. Or that sometimes, no matter how hard you try—” she looked down “—dreams don’t always come true...”
“Dreams don’t come true?” Melissa’s voice changed. She shook her head. “You’re wrong about that, Reena.” She smiled, her eyes shimmering with tears. “Just look around me right now.”
