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Even in his most youthful exuberance of untried emotion, he had not been a fool. “It was not a consideration.”
“But you had sex with her.” The blunt words falling from Angele’s usually prim mouth added to his sense of falling down the rabbit hole.
It was time to put a stop to this conversation. “That is not something I will discuss with you.”
“I’m not asking you to—I’m simply making an observation.”
“This entire conversation is insane.”
“No, what is insane is two people prepared to marry for the sake of nothing but family obligation in the twenty-first century.”
Her American upbringing had much to answer for.
“I will one day be king. The woman who rules Zohra by my side must be a suitable match.” Angele knew this. He should not have to repeat it for her. “Love has nothing to do with the obligations you and I must uphold.”
“You say it like it’s a dirty word.”
It was his turn to shrug. In his life? That particular emotion had caused more pain than pleasure.
“Your brothers have both found love.”
“They do not have the responsibilities of the crown to uphold.” And neither man had had a particularly smooth road to true love, either.
Zahir had no desire to follow in their footsteps in that regard. He had enough of his own challenges in life to face as ultimate leader and servant to his people.
“Your father doesn’t wear a crown.”
“Don’t play semantics with me—this is too important.” He could not believe she was saying these things. “I believed you understood the importance of your obligations.”
“My greatest obligation is to myself. I know you don’t see it that way.” She quoted an Arabic proverb he often used that was strangely apt to their situation. “I’m not that person. I don’t believe countries will topple if their leaders seek personal happiness in a manner of integrity.”
“What is honorable about breaking our engagement?”
“We aren’t engaged.?
??
“As good as.”
“Really? You truly believe that?” she asked as if his answer carried great import.
“Yes.”
Unutterable sadness came over her features and the light in her eyes dimmed. “I’m sorry.”
“You will give up this idea of backing away from our wedding?”
“No.” Her voice was laced with determination, but there was a flicker of fear in her expression.
And suddenly, he thought he understood. Things that made no sense began to fall into a picture he could comprehend. She was concerned about their compatibility in the bedroom. As well she might be.
In one respect, she was spot-on. They were not a nineteenth-century couple where the bride and groom had been expected to go to the marriage bed untouched. Or, at the very least, the bride.
She’d spent her life in the United States, surrounded by a culture that had demystified sex and frequently glorified it. He had never made improper advances because, despite his claim, they were not actually engaged.
At first, Angele had been too young, and later he’d had his liaison with Elsa. A relationship doomed from the beginning, but one that allowed him to come as close to escaping the stranglehold of his everyday responsibilities as he ever would, if only for the brief moments they’d had together.
He had foolishly allowed his emotions to get involved. So, when he’d discovered he was not her only lover, he had been hurt. And he was still angry with himself for being that vulnerable.
