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“You ride horses.” He said confidently.
She had, as a child. She had loved horse riding. But Etienne had become increasingly furious when she didn’t adequately groom her pony. She had come to loathe the impending punishments so much that she had stopped riding all together.
Her face was pale. Hakim’s eyes narrowed as he tried to make sense of her reaction. “Etienne told me what a fine horsewoman you are. He boasted of your abilities in the saddle.”
Her eyes flared as she looked up at him. “Do not mention that man to me, Hakim. I mean it.”
His own expression was one of stony anger. He spoke in his own language and the two attendants left, brusquely. When they were alone, he responded firmly, “I have told you not to question me, Saleena.”
She balked at his coldness, her stomach lurching. Phoebe pulled her hand free and turned, stalking back in the direction from which they’d come.
Hakim caught her easily. “Where are you going?”
When she looked at him, her face showed no emotion. “This was a mistake. I don’t know why I thought I could do this.”
“Do what?” He asked, genuinely confused.
“This!” She cried, pleading with him to stop being so obtuse when it came to her. “We had sex, Hakim, that doesn’t make for a great romance. It just makes for great chemistry.”
“Lower your voice, Saleena,” he warned.
“Why do you care so much what people think? Aren’t you the one in charge?”
A muscle flecked in the base of his jaw as he stared down at her. “It
is you that I am trying to protect, from harmful gossip.”
“I don’t care about gossip,” she said truthfully. “I learned to deal with it a long time ago.”
“Nonetheless,” he drawled, keeping a check on his frustration with effort, “I would prefer to shield you from it if I can.”
“Everyone here already stares at me, anyway. Why is that?”
A flush of guilt washed over him. He had hoped to discomfort her. To subject her to some glances. He had wanted to make her squirm a little, anger at the lifestyle he’d presumed she’d led making him unnecessarily callous. “You are staying in the accommodation usually reserved for the most valued concubine of the Sheikh. Why do you think they’re looking at you?”
Her cheeks glowed pink. The palace staff all thought she’d been flown in for the pleasure of this man? And then she’d proved them all right, by falling to his feet and begging him to make love to her at the first opportunity. She looked away, brushing a wayward strand of hair out of her eyes. “Right.”
“Come, Saleena. Do not let pique spoil our evening.”
“Pique?” She shook her head. “Don’t demean what I feel. I am angry!”
“Yes,” he nodded impatiently. “Always angry. Why? What has made you so angry, Phoebe?”
“Do you really not know?” She demanded, unable to keep the note of accusation from her voice.
“Know what?” He stroked his thumb across the soft skin at her inner wrist, and sparks began to shoot up her arm in response.
“Know why I hated him so much.” It was a whisper in the night.
Hakim instantly closed down. “I know why you hate him.”
Phoebe’s stomach rolled with surprise. “And yet still you can’t accept the fact that I hate him? Still you tell me what a wonderful man he was?”
“Etienne was a kind, loyal, intelligent man, and he loved you. Must you focus on one flaw in his character and make that all you can perceive in the man?”
She didn’t want to touch him, but she feared that without his support, she might fall down. She gripped his forearms, while his words sunk in. “One flaw?”
“That he cheated on your mother,” he said, softly. “I understand it must have upset you, but the way Etienne spoke, their marriage was all but over.”
