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The eyes of the old men went huge with shock. There was a tinkling crash as one of their wives dropped a champagne glass.
“Beth.”
She jumped when she heard Omar’s husky voice behind her. With an intake of breath, she turned. And swallowed hard.
In Paris, he’d been sexy, strong, irresistible. But in Samarqara...
Here, Omar was king. His absolute power was like a light shining from the white fabric of his robes. Everywhere he walked, his people looked at him with awe, servants and nobles alike, as if he wasn’t just their king, but their greatest hope and joy.
Looking up at him now, Beth’s heart squeezed so tight in her chest she almost couldn’t breathe. For a moment, in spite of all her vows to think only of finding him a good wife, all she could feel was the fervent, desperate regret that she couldn’t be the woman in his arms. Instead, he’d slept with Sia. The last woman on earth who deserved him.
He looked past her, toward the shocked members of the council, then took her arm. “Dance with me.”
“Now?” she stammered.
“Right now.”
“But—but I was introduced last. The vizier said I’m supposed to dance with you last.”
“It’s my decision to make,” he said grimly, and there was no arguing with that.
Nervously, Beth allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor. Music started, with a haunting melody played by exotic musical instruments. They danced together slowly, barely touching, beneath the weight of all the people watching them.
This was the last time she’d ever be in his arms.
Good, she told herself, trying not to cry. She never wanted to see him again, anyway. Her heart was in her throat as she looked up at his darkly handsome face.
“What are you doing?” he bit out.
“What do you mean?” she whispered, when what she really wanted to ask was, How could you sleep with her? or How could you have ever made me think I might have a chance with you?
Omar stared at her incredulously. “You gave the high council the traditional Samarqari greeting.”
Beth brightened. “Yes. I learned it today—”
“Only you said it wrong, and insulted them with a suggestion about their mothers and a donkey.”
Her cheeks colored. No wonder the tour guide had begged her not to say it. “Oh.”
Omar shook his head in irritation. “So answer my question. What are you trying to do? Are you trying to not be chosen?”
“As if I could be!”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“We both know I’m just here for moral support. As your buddy. Your pal!”
He looked at her incredulously. “My...pal?”
She nodded, blinking back tears. “It’s fine, I totally understand. Even if I’d said the words right, the council wouldn’t have wanted me. I’m a failure at everything. I only came here to keep you from making a horrible mistake!” Her skin felt clammy, her heart pounding in her chest as she pleaded, “Don’t marry Sia just because you slept with her!”
“What?” Omar stopped on the dance floor. “What are you talking about?”
“You don’t have to hide it,” she said miserably. “Sia told me all about it. How you slept together right before our date.”
His voice was low. “Sia said I slept with her?”
“I’m not jealous.” Beth’s throat ached at the lie as she whispered, looking up at his darkly handsome face. “I mean, it’s not like...not like I thought...you and I could ever be...”
