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“Actually, no. I can totally buy you as GI Joe or Rambo or whatever.”
He grins. “Not quite.”
I don’t believe him. From the first moment I met him I felt as though I’d been punched in the gut by testosterone and I feel it emanating from him now. “I bet they loved you.”
“Who?”
“The people you served with.”
He lifts his shoulders. “There’s a strong sense of camaraderie in the armed forces. For someone like me – with no family – that was very important.” He brings the chopper down lower and guards emerge onto the roof, watching carefully. “I learned to rely on others, to support them. It was a turning point for me.” His hands are deft as he controls the instruments, like Chopin at a piano.
“How so?”
“Up until then, I’d been completely alone. I started to let people into my life.”
My heart squeezes on an unexpected wave of sympathy and surprise. “I have you pegged as a loner still.”
“Do you?”
I nod.
“Perhaps you’re right. I prefer not to rely on people, and yet I can if I’m forced to.” I can’t tell if he’s joking or not.
“I’m surprised your guardians or whatever allowed you to enter the army. Wouldn’t it be too dangerous?”
He lifts his shoulders. “We are not at war with anyone, azeezi. I took part in training and peace keeping exercises only.”
I know him well enough now to know he’s downplaying the risks. “You’re the sole surviving heir. You married me – the daughter of a man you despise – simply to ensure your throne is safe.”
The skids touch down on the helipad and the blades begin to slow. He flicks another switch then turns, his full attention bearing down on me. “Yes?”
I swallow, his scrutiny making concentration difficult. “There must have been risks.”
“There are always risks. Everywhere.”
I consider that a moment. “Including in marrying me?”
He lifts a hand and it takes me a second to realise he’s gesturing at the soldiers beyond the helicopter, instructing them to stay where they are rather than approach us. “There were more risks in not marrying you. I weighed it up and chose the best option.”
It’s such a clinical way to describe the process of our coming together and yet I’m glad he employed that now – I need the reminder. Our marriage is businesslike, regardless of what just happened between us.
I need some space, time in my own apartment, away from him and his powerful appeal, to examine everything that’s transpired. The way he feels about me is – or should be – beside the point, anyway. What I need to keep remembering, what lays heavily upon my heart, is that this is the man who destroyed my father’s life. Every tear I saw him shed, every grim expression, the light that was lost in my dad’s eyes, all of that is at this man’s feet.
Guilt steals through me, fast and determined, so I angle my face away, needing my escape urgently.
“Thank you for today.” I toy with the fabric at the bottom of my shirt. We dried it over the edge of the cave, sunbathing the shirt while we swam in the warm water of the rock pool and waited.
“Amy?” His hand grabs my wrist, drawing my attention back, but I’m reluctant to give it to him. Something inside me has shifted; a lemon is in my throat. I swallow to clear it, without luck.
He uses his other hand to guide my face to his – how easily he does that! Is it a metaphor for his control over me? Wasn’t today evidence of that enough? I wanted a day on my own, a day to explore under my own steam, but instead Zahir swooped in and took over. Oh, he might have taken me somewhere incredibly beautiful and special, and made me feel beautiful and special, but that’s not the point! I’m not supposed to be attracted to him, and yet I am. Completely and utterly, and all the while he has enough self-control to withhold his own pleasure without breaking a sweat.
His eyes pierce mine; there’s no looking away. It’s as though a solar eclipse has emerged right here within the confines of the helicopter. “We’re married.”
The comment draws a frown to my face. “Yes, I know. I was there.”
He reacts with a tight smile. “Today has changed the nature of our marriage.”
My heart is a sledgehammer in my chest.
