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“I’m totally partial when it comes to you. I also happen to be absolutely right.”
She again barely stopped herself from doing something impulsive. That was, more so than coming up to this suite. Something like throwing herself against his massive chest and smothering him in kisses. Which she might end up doing soon. Exposure to him was chipping away at any control she had left.
Watching her with that intensity that compromised her will, he said, “Your sisters are astute young ladies for making you their role model. You’re the perfect one.”
She waved his words away. “Let’s not exaggerate, okay? I’d just die if they followed in some of my footsteps.”
“Why? You’re not proud of your achievements?”
“Those I’m proud of. I’m not proud of my mistakes.”
“What are those? A failed, short-lived marriage? You think that disqualifies you as an inspiration?”
“Catastrophic choices certainly do. In my bid for freedom and independence, I made more than one. Like marrying the first man who seemed to be the opposite of the chauvinistic men I was used to, and finding out very soon he had equally objectionable traits, only on the other side of the spectrum. But whether I deserved it or not, I was their role model, and I strove to fill my position. The one thing I mourned most about being forced to marry Hassan was that I could no longer be that to them.”
“You’ll always be what your sisters look up to.” He loomed over her as he sat up, his gaze seething with something she could only think was affront on her behalf. “Now tell me exactly how Hassan is forcing you into marriage. Leave out nothing.”
Taking a huge breath, she started explaining everything.
He listened, his focus on her so total, it made it hard to speak. But she did, and she left nothing out as he’d demanded.
His expression grew almost scary as he listened, but he remained silent even after she finished, until she started to vibrate with tension. What if, now that he knew the extent of Zafrana’s debts, he realized he couldn’t do anything for her and apologized for giving her false hope?
Then he finally spoke, his voice a blade. “I knew about the debts, but I didn’t know they were that crippling, or that the internal situation in Zafrana was that volatile.”
“Father wouldn’t have thought of asking me to do this for anything less.”
He raised his hand, his jaw muscles bunching. “Nothing is worth imposing on you in any way, let alone sacrificing you. He should have sacrificed himself.”
“He would have if it would have solved the problem.”
“He should have considered any measures but bartering you to that old goat.”
She burst out laughing. At his grim frown, she spluttered, “That’s exactly what I called him earlier this evening to Zeena.” At the growing thundercloud that gripped his face, she sobered. “What would you have done?”
“You don’t want to know.”
She gasped, for those five words painted a clear picture. This man was as deadly as she’d thought earlier, and not figuratively. He was no stranger to eliminating enemies. Even with his own hands.
Before she could process what kind of disaster she might have instigated by seeking his intervention, he demanded, “I need the specifics of those debts.”
She latched on to the relatively innocuous subject. “Of course. You need to know everything before deciding whether you can help, or even if you’d want to.”
He shot her one of those authoritatively reprimanding glances. “Those specifics have no bearing on my decision. That was final since the moment I gave you my word. They are only for devising the most effective attack.”
She shot up straight. “Attack?”
His eyes became icy emeralds. “There will be extreme measures employed in releasing Zafrana from Saraya’s shackles.”
Her heart hammered in dismay. “Define extreme.”
“Eliminating the problem at the source.”
“And how would you do that?”
“That’s my business.”
“Actually, it’s mine, too. Mine, mainly. I’m the one who asked for this, and if you’re going to do anything to...to hurt Hassan, I’d have to withdraw my request.”
