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I bite down on my lip. “Being married to you doesn’t mean we’re not strangers. It just means we’re the same kind of crazy.”
His smile lacks humour. “Yet here we are.”
I nod, troubled at the idea of what’s ahead of me – of us. Wondering, not for the first time, if this was sheer, impulsive madness. The idea of my dad being able to come home blinded me to everything else, but now I’m here and the expectation that I’ll uphold my end of the bargain weighs on me like a tonne of bricks.
“Something is bothering you.”
I tilt my face to his. “Do you care?”
His frown is infinitesimal. “I am…curious.”
“Because you like to know everything? It’s all just a power trip to you, isn’t it?”
He doesn’t respond, and I sigh at my uncharacteristically catty comment.
“I know you said you need me to fall pregnant.” I clear my throat, reminding myself of everything I know to be true.
“We agreed to that point.”
I bite down on my lip. “I know. But the more I think about it, the more I realise we’d be better to wait.”
His eyes narrow. “Is this your virginal act again?”
I colour, looking away from him. “This has nothing to do with sex,” I murmur. “It’s not about that. But having a baby, bringing a person into the world, it’s a huge responsibility. I know I married you this morning, but you need to understand: I didn’t come here expecting I’d be welded to you for life. I saw this as a short-term measure.”
Indignation fires in his face.
“Hear me out,” I insist, before he can interrupt with whatever it is I can see running through his mind.
He compresses his lips with obvious effort.
“I need something from you and you need something from me. That’s simple. Can’t we both achieve what we want without making any permanent changes to our lives?”
His nostrils flare, his eyes glittering with dark rejection.
“I want my dad to be able to come home, and you want your people to stop seeing him as an alternate leader.”
He lifts a finger. “A very small minority of my people.”
“If it were that small, would you have gone to these lengths?”
His eyes fire something in my belly. “Any threat to my country’s peace must be taken seriously.”
I jerk my head in agreement. “Fine. So for as long as we’re married, we can accept there’s no threat to you. Dad just wants to come home, to see his friends and be amongst the places in which he grew up. He’s not looking to stage a mutiny, I promise.”
He crosses his arms over his chest.
“We don’t need a baby.”
“I need an heir,” he says, in a quiet, determined voice.
“Eventually, yes.”
“No, not eventually. Can you not see that without an heir, there is a question about my succession? If I were to die tomorrow, who would be Sheikh? A distant cousin is next in line at present, but there are the Hassan supporters too. Without doubt, the country would be plunged into civil war.” His jaw is squared. “If you and your father are here, the nature of that war changes.”
I make a groaning noise. “How can I convince you I’m not interested in your bloody throne? And nor is my father!”
His expression is mocking. “Marrying me suggests otherwise.”
