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Looking down at Beth, Omar choked out, “I wish you were your sister.”
She stiffened, and her lovely face looked stricken.
“I’m not Edith. I’ll never be Edith.”
Blinking fast, she fled up the steps to the tower.
With a low growl, he followed her to her bedchamber. When she tried to close the door in his face, he pushed it open.
Turning from him tearfully, Beth sat down on the sofa by the window. “Everyone wants Edith,” she whispered. “She didn’t even have to try, to make them love her. My parents. My grandmother. The world.” She paused. “No matter how badly she treats people, she’s loved. While I—”
She cut herself off, looking out the window.
“Beth?”
When she didn’t answer, Omar stood looking at her. His eyes slowly caressed down her pink cheeks, to her long throat and her luscious curves.
Forcing himself to turn away, he went to the small bar cabinet and poured them each a drink, in golden goblets encrusted with thick jewels.
Sitting besid
e her on the sofa, he quietly handed one to her.
She looked at it. “I shouldn’t.”
“Yours is club soda. In case...”
Beth lifted her gaze to his. “In case I’m pregnant with your baby.”
His throat closed off as he pictured Beth, ripe with his child, her breasts swollen and full. His ring on her finger. Her eyes full of love.
No. He cut off the thought. He could not let himself want that. Or the disaster to his country that might ensue.
It was just an illusion, in any case. She’d never had any real feelings for him. None.
Leaning back against the sofa’s cushions, he took a big gulp of his own vodka tonic.
“It would be a disaster if I’m pregnant, wouldn’t it?” She gave him a sad smile. “You need a queen who is powerful and brilliant and successful. Otherwise, everyone will wonder why you didn’t just choose a girl from home?”
He nodded. “Samarqara is prosperous and stable now, but it was not always so. In my grandfather’s time, the country was nearly destroyed by war. And my own father was weak. He ignored my mother to chase his mistresses, and did whatever the nobles wanted.”
“But you changed all that,” Beth said slowly. For a moment, their eyes locked. He felt it again, the twist in his heart, that connection...
Taking another sip of the drink, he forced himself to say lightly, “Did you see Sia Lane in the news yesterday, claiming she only took part in the bride market as research for an upcoming role?”
Beth snorted, and her eyes danced. “She said that?”
“But when the reporter asked what movie it was for, she suddenly couldn’t remember.”
“Funny. Have you heard about Anna and Taraji?” she said, referring to the high-powered Sydney attorney and Silicon Valley executive.
“What?”
“They quit their jobs, which must have been what they really wanted all along. Anna’s bought a vineyard in New Zealand. Taraji’s opening a yoga studio in Marin.”
For a moment, they smiled at each other. Then Beth’s smile faded. “I don’t blame Sia for trying to hide why she did the bride market. She doesn’t want people to laugh at her.” She looked down at her club soda. “Success is what matters in life. Wealth and power and fame. All things I wouldn’t know what to do with, if I had them.”
Trying not to look at the tight red dress, which at any moment was threatening to retreat and allow her breasts to fully spring free, Omar said, “There are all kinds of ways to be successful.” He took a gulp of his drink. “Look at me. Who am I?”
