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What might be an idle threat with some people might really happen with Edith, she thought. Her sister knew people. Powerful ones. “No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Beth couldn’t hurt Omar with a diplomatic incident on top of everything else. He clearly wanted to keep this quiet. He’d put guards at her door. Immigration would probably arrest her if she tried to flee the country—which they would be well under their rights to do, considering she’d traveled here under her sister’s borrowed passport.
Beth was the villain here. No wonder Omar no longer trusted her. To all evidence, she was a cold, venal, money-grubbing liar, while he’d been honest from the start about his desire to find a suitable bride. He’d even m
ade her sign a contract, stating that she knew what she was getting into. That she was seeking marriage. And that she was Dr. Edith Farraday.
Then she’d slept with him under false pretenses. No wonder he hated her. She deserved it.
“Beth—I’m going to get you out—”
“No. I mean it, Edie,” Beth choked out. Gripping the phone, she wiped her eyes. “I’m the one who caused this mess—”
“Both of us caused it!”
But Edith hadn’t been the one who’d chosen to stay, time and time again. She hadn’t been the one who’d slept with him. “I can’t just disappear. That would look like I abandoned him at the altar. I don’t want to hurt him. Not more than I already have.”
“Then what can I do?” her sister said anxiously. “Come and marry him in your place?”
A wrench went through Beth’s heart. Her sister was only trying to help. And yet...
Edith? Marry Omar in her place?
A knee-jerk reaction came from deep in her soul. “No.”
“Whew. For a second I thought you might say yes!”
“Don’t worry.” Beth took a steadying breath. “I’ll think of something.”
Could she?
For much of her life, she’d been the one everyone felt sorry for. Poor Beth, with no talents or skills, overlooked, ordinary, always failing at everything. Poor Beth.
But she didn’t need help. She just needed strength. She could do this. Alone.
She’d remain here and be humble and endure, and pray she wasn’t pregnant, so Omar wouldn’t be trapped into permanent marriage with her.
A strange thing to pray for, when Beth had always dreamed of having a child of her own. Especially strange, because she would have given anything to be Omar’s wife forever.
But not like this. Not when he hated her.
For his sake, she would pray she could set him free.
Edith sounded doubtful. “I still think I should...” There was a pause, and Beth suddenly heard muffled noises on the other end of the line, then her sister gasped into the phone, “There are two men outside my lab, demanding I come with them. By orders of the King of Samarqara!”
Beth’s blood froze. “What?”
“Get out of here!” her sister yelled to them in Houston, on the other side of the world. “Don’t touch me!”
And then, to Beth’s terror, the line went dead.
* * *
Omar looked up at the soaring ceilings above the small council chamber. The airy, open space was filled with light. Outside, two birds were singing by the windows. Happy. Free.
“I told you the bride market was a mistake, sire.” Omar heard a note of satisfaction in the vizier’s voice. He turned to him at the table.
