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‘So you persist in this fantasy?’ he interrupted.
‘Obviously I would consult you first where any changes were concerned,’ Antonia rushed on, determined he would hear her.
‘You should know the land your mother left you lacks its own water supply.’
She made the mistake of staring into his eyes in confusion, only to see that the mockery she expected was mixed with slumbering passion in his gaze. ‘You’re enjoying this,’ she said faintly, shocked to think that Ra’id could still want to bed his prey when he was so obviously relishing this opportunity to destroy her.
‘The water course is on the wrong side of your border—and, unfortunately, you have no access to it.’
‘Unless you permit it?’ she guessed.
‘And I won’t permit it.’ Ra’id’s dark gaze glittered with triumph.
‘So my land is…?’
‘Worthless,’ Ra’id confirmed.
‘But not to me,’ Antonia insisted, remembering her plans. ‘The land is not worthless to me.’
‘Arid desert? What will you do with it—offer camel rides?’
‘That’s cruel and unnecessary, Ra’id, especially with the prospect of you opening a branch of my brother’s charity here in Sinnebar.’
‘Only if I head up the ruling council of that charity.’
‘Is there anything you don’t rule?’
There was one thing—or rather one person—Ra’id reflected as Antonia pursued her argument. He had forgotten how persistent she could be. How irritating.
How desirable…
He watched her closely, noticing how her gaze softened when she spotted some ancient artefact, or when she stared dreamily into the middle distance as she formulated her plan, only for that gaze to harden and grow anxious when he’d mentioned the drawbacks to the old fort she had inherited. Would she fight for it? Remembering the girl who had swum through a storm to reach land, he had no doubt she would. Although she could only find the idea of visiting an ancient citadel where her mother had spent her last few months in Sinnebar incarcerated intimidating, rather as if the ancient building had the potential to become Antonia’s prison too.
She had not yet broken free from her safe cocoon at home, though she badly wanted to, he concluded. So what was holding her back? Was it him? Was she frightened of him? Or was Antonia more frightened by the secret she was hiding from him?
As if sensing the way his thoughts were turning, she met his gaze, and that briefest of stares told him all he needed to know.
When Ra’id took a step closer Antonia’s throat closed, and her gaze fixed on the jewelled belt on his robe. The rampant lion worked in gold thread clutching a very large sapphire in its deadly paws was exactly as she had pictured it, and she though it a perfect illustration of his power. But she had a small child sheltering inside her, and was responsible for other children who couldn’t help themselves. She had to ignore her own fears and press on. ‘If the old fort is habitable, I could live there myself and supervise the renovations.’
‘Are you mad?’ Ra’id thundered.
Mad? Yes, and very frightened, at the thought of taking a baby into the desert—a baby who hadn’t even been born yet. But if she turned around and went home she felt sure she would never be allowed back into Sinnebar and everything she had set out to achieve would fail. ‘According to those documents you showed me, I am entitled—’
‘You are entitled to nothing without my permission,’ Ra’id assured her in a deadly quiet voice.
He was very close to her, and his intoxicating scent was scrambling her brain. She had to forget everything they had ever been to each other. Ra’id must know she hadn’t changed or weakened just because he was a king, and that she was as determined as she had ever been to carry all her plans through. ‘So the rule of law means nothing in Sinnebar?’ she challenged boldly.
She might not have spoken for all the good it did her. ‘I will pay you for the land,’ Ra’id told her coolly. ‘Money is no object. Name your price.’
Her body shook with a tremor of revulsion. ‘I don’t have a price,’ she said fiercely, searching for some semblance of the man she had known in Ra’id’s eyes.
‘I will buy the land from you,’ he explained as if he thought her mind had failed her.
‘It isn’t for sale.’
This was truly a man she didn’t know, Antonia thought as Ra’id’s eyes narrowed. This fearsome ruler of Sinnebar bore not the slightest resemblance to the tender lover she had spent one glorious day and night with three months ago. This man was hard and brutal, and he didn’t have a heart—or, if he did, it was as cold as the gleaming sapphire on his belt. Ra’id al Maktabi was a warrior forged from steel; a man she considered had nothing to offer the child she already loved so deeply and completely. But, with a mission to complete, she could allow no time for sentiment. ‘Before I leave for the property I have inherited,’ she said firmly, ‘I would like to see my mother’s room.’
