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Of course, she was right about that, but admitting as much seemed pointless, and fraught with complications, so he changed tack. ‘It is not relevant, because I would have wished for this marriage anyway,’ he said, knowing it was the truth. ‘You are everything I want and need as my queen.’
Instead of placating her, though, his declaration only seemed to disturb her, the expression on her face turning from confusion to consternation.
‘As your queen?’ she queried, searching his face, as if looking for something. ‘What about as a woman?’
The hammer thuds of his heart dimmed a little. This question at least was very simple to answer. A slow smile spread as his gaze dipped to take in her high breasts and the flutter of her pulse in her collarbone. His mouth watered at the thought of kissing her there.
‘As a woman, I want you very much,’ he said. He lifted his hand from his pocket to wrap it around her arm and tug her against him, making her aware of the burgeoning erection. ‘Do you wish me to prove it to you?’
Her breath released in a rush, her eyes darkening. He could scent her arousal, and the powerful desire surged. She was his, she would always be his. Their chemistry was so strong, neither one of them could deny it.
But as he bent his head, intending to suckle the place on her neck he knew would make her melt, she braced her palms against his chest.
‘Stop it, Kamal. I’m not talking about sex. I’m talking about love.’
‘What?’ he murmured, shocked by the deep yearning in her eyes, and the shimmer of hope.
He had seen it once before, when she had told him she loved him two days ago and had waited for his reply. Just as then, it struck fear into his heart.
He released her abruptly.
He couldn’t have this conversation—not now, not yet—because he had no answer that would satisfy her. But nor did he wish to lie or make her promises he could not fulfil.
‘I want to know, what do you really feel for me?’ She said the words carefully, gently, without an ounce of entitlement but with a grim determination that told him there would be no ducking the truth a second time. ‘Not as a queen, or as a...’ the flush spread across her collarbone ‘...a—a sexual partner. I want to know if you love me, even a little bit. The way I love you.’
He stepped back to lean against his desk, studying her as he thrust his hands back into his pockets, contemplating what the hell to say. Her beautiful face was so expressive, so open, so transparent. It was one of the things he adored about her. But right now that devastating combination of hope and fear was crucifying him.
‘It’s not a difficult question, Kamal,’ she said, her gaze so intense now—looking for something he knew he could not give her—that the fear returned. ‘Why is it so hard for you to answer it?’
Lie. Tell her what she wants to hear. Your throne depends on it.
The voice in his head demanded what he should say. The voice he had relied on as a boy to survive. The voice which had pushed him for so long to do and say whatever it took to get what he wanted, what he needed, to prosper and achieve his goals... But he could not get the necessary words out past the boulder of guilt and remorse growing in his throat.
He had lied before when he’d needed to... But he could not lie to her any more than he could fight off the pain in his chest at the sight of her distress.
Tugging his hand from his pocket, he brushed a thumb down the side of her face, needing to touch her, to feel that connection he could not put into words as he told her the truth.
‘You are a romantic, Kaliah,’ he said softly.Because you can afford to be, he thought silently. ‘But love is simply a word,’ he added. ‘It means nothing tangible, nor is it something I require. Commitment is all that matters. Commitment and honesty.’ He rested his hand on her shoulder, rubbing his thumb across the frantic pulse, willing her to understand, the pain in his chest increasing at the despair in her eyes. ‘I wish you to be my wife, my queen. I wish you to have my children. To rule by my side. Is that not enough?’
‘I see,’ she whispered, her voice calm, but the expression in her eyes somehow broken. ‘Thank you for being honest with me.’
He nodded. But, instead of feeling satisfaction at her measured response, his pulse continued to rage, the pain refusing to ease.
She blinked as a single tear spilled over her lid. The pain gathered, becoming all but unbearable. But he braced against it and the sudden urge to drag her into his arms, to make love to her and tell her anything and everything she wanted to hear to make her love him still.
It was better that she knew the truth about what he was capable of—and what he was not. Better that she accepted it.
Even so, as she swiped the drop away with a shaky fist and walked away from him, he could not shake the devastating feeling that enveloped him... Or the suspicion he might just have lost something more precious than the Zokari throne, and infinitely more rare than the perfect queen.
He forced himself not to dwell on it, not to allow foolish sensibilities to derail him during the sleepless night that followed, as the picture of her devastated expression, the depth of feeling in her eyes, woke him from nightmares.
But the whole fragile house of cards came crashing down the next morning when one of his advisers dashed into his bed chamber to deliver the news that the Crown Princess had left Zokar under cover of darkness with the assistance of one of her staff. And handed him a note.
I’m so sorry, Kamal. I can’t marry you knowing there is no prospect you will ever love me. Love isn’t just a word. Not to me. It’s everything.
I hope you don’t lose your throne because of this, when I know what a good king you will be.
Kaliah xx
