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Kamal’s eyes narrowed. ‘Do you think the Law of Marriage does not apply to me because I was not born of royal blood?’ he sneered, his anger starting to strangle him.
Was that it? Had she believed she could deceive him about her virgin state because he had no right to his throne?
‘What?No, of course not.’ Her eyebrows lifted, the blush becoming radioactive. ‘I just don’t give a toss about such a stupid, archaic tradition.’
‘You think tradition and culture is stupid?’ He raised his voice, the desire to spank her so all-consuming now, his palms began to itch. ‘You dishonour your family, your country and yourself with this attitude, and you also dishonour me. You will become my wife now or—’
‘There’s no way on Earth I would become your wife under any circumstances,’ she interrupted him.Again.‘You’re an arrogant, overbearing—’
‘Okay,enough!’ The shout from her father had them both turning to see the Sheikh stand and stride around his desk. ‘Stop yelling, the both of you, and sit down.’
Kamal straightened, having completely forgotten Sheikh Zane Ali and his wife were in the room the minute their wayward daughter had appeared.
But the brief spurt of shame was swiftly quashed. This situation was not of his making, and he refused to be placated or dismissed by anyone. Not even a man as powerful and well-respected as the Narabian Sheikh. He might be embarrassed the man and his wife had witnessed their unseemly spat, but he planned to marry their daughter and they would have to get used to it, as well as her.
He had requested a meeting with the Sheikh this morning and had told him of last night’s development—after finally getting over his own fury with the shoddy way Kaliah Khan had treated him, enough to think coherently, at least. When he had formally requested the man’s daughter’s hand in marriage, Zane Khan had not reacted the way he had expected.
Instead of seeing marriage as the only solution, he had seemed circumspect, and had insisted on calling in the Crown Princess to ‘discuss’ the situation. There was no discussion Kamal could imagine that would change the facts, and he did not like the way the man was looking at them both now, as if this was some kind of lovers’ quarrel which needed to be handled instead of an extremely damaging diplomatic incident.
He took a moment to breathe through his anger—which meant keeping his eyes off the woman beside him and focussing on her father.
He did not take orders from Zane Khan or any man, and he would not be thwarted on this. But, at the same time, he was in the man’s home. And he did not wish to make an enemy of Khan, or risk him withdrawing his endorsement, not unless he absolutely had to.
‘I will not sit until we have an agreement on this,’ he said, deliberately leaving off the honorific.
‘If you think you’re getting me to agree to marry you...’ Kaliah began, but her father simply lifted his hand.
‘Liah, just sit down, damn it,’ he said, weary resignation in his voice. ‘And stop making things worse.’
‘But, Dad, you can’t be seriously entertaining any of this?’ she said, a high, desperate note entering her voice.
Kamal stared at them both, confused by the familiarity with which she addressed her father. He had noticed it before, after the race, and he couldn’t help but be astonished by it.
He had no understanding of how families worked, having never had one of his own, but surely it could not be right that she would talk to her Sheikh with such disrespect? Although, somehow, Kaliah Khan’s wilful behaviour did not surprise him. It seemed the woman had no respect for anything—not the culture and traditions which had bound their region for centuries, and certainly not him or the gravity of what they had shared the previous night.
Her audacious behaviour only annoyed him more. Did she actually believe hewantedto marry her? As much as he might need a wife, and as much as he had enjoyed the sex, he was not a fool. Their chemistry was explosive, that was certainly true. But the intensity of their physical connection had also disturbed him. The fact he’d been her first only disturbed him more.
How could she have been so enchanting, so alluring? How could his climax have been so...he breathed, trying to prevent the bolt of desire journeying any further south...overwhelming when she had been so inexperienced? How could she have had him clinging to his control? And where had that damned possessive streak come from, which had blindsided him as soon as he’d seen the flecks of blood?
He was good at sex. He had learned how to pleasure women as a young soldier. Pasha—his first lover—had been in her thirties and a widow. She had been patient and kind with him and had taught him well. And, until last night, he had always enjoyed using his skill to bring a woman to orgasm before he found his own release.
But, with Kaliah Khan, patient enjoyment had become desperate need. It had almost killed him to hold back. If he had interpreted her odd mix of boldness and shyness for what it was last night, he would have stopped before it was too late if she’d asked him to. But seeing her again, feeling the vicious surge of desire all over again, only made him realise how hard that would have been...when it should have been easy.
How could he still want her so desperately? Enough even to want to marry her on one level, although he knew she was the precise opposite of the sort of woman he should make his queen.
He needed a partner, a woman who could respect him and look up to him—despite his past—a woman who was mature, responsible and most of all willing to listen and learn. And it was clear, from this morning’s display of hubris, entitlement and reckless disregard for everything except herself, that Kaliah Khan was not that woman.
‘Please, Prince Kamal, perhaps if you sit down...if youbothsit down...’ the Queen said, sending her daughter a pointed look, ‘We could all discuss this like rational adults.’
He frowned. Was Queen Catherine implyinghewas not behaving like an adult? Before his temper could spike again, though, he registered the beseeching look in the older woman’s warm chestnut eyes and his temper defused a little...
He forced himself to walk stiffly back to his chair and sit down. He waited, aware of Kaliah’s rigid stance, the temper bristling off her as she continued to stand and glare at both her parents. He felt an odd ripple of sympathy. Apparently, she did not enjoy being trapped any more than he did. Even if it was all her own fault.
At last, she trudged over to the chair opposite her father’s desk—the chair furthest from his own, he noted—and sat. He ignored her petty show of defiance.
Her desires made no difference now. Surely she would have to bend to her father’s will and honour the traditions she had been born into, whether she wished it or not? They both would.
Her father returned to his desk and sat behind it. Steepling his fingers, he directed his gaze at his daughter and asked quietly, ‘Is it true, Liah? Did you sleep with Prince Kamal last night and were you a virgin?’
