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Chapter Thirteen
Arabelle leaned against the high deck railing, the sun rising over the ocean’s horizon while the salt-laden and bracing sea breeze did its best to clear her mind. Until her husband’s tread sounded from behind.
She stiffened, but then his big body was behind her, his heat emanating her like a blanket even before his arms wrapped around her and he nuzzled her neck. “What are you doing out here all alone when you could be in bed with me?” he murmured.
Despite the thin white shift she’d thrown on that did absolutely nothing to keep her warm, her shivers weren’t from the cold. Her body was already succumbing to his touch, drawn to him like barren ground was to rain.
It would be so easy to melt against him, to pretend she didn’t know about him trailing her all those months ago, no doubt to see if she was worthy enough to be his bride.
She hated the subterfuge, the secrets and the lies when a part of her had been drawn to Mahindar’s brutal honesty. She twisted in his arms and swallowed hard at seeing all his…nakedness. She forced her gaze upward, away from his long, hard cock that made her mouth water no matter what her mind told her body.
She blinked, aware his height along with his dark, brilliant gaze was unmistakable now as one and the same from her past. That he hadn’t been completely honest with her was like a knife in the back. She might despise him but she’d believed in him and had never imagined he’d lie, not even by omission.
That her chest ached and her stomach felt hollowed out only added to the pain of his betrayal.
His gaze narrowed. Then he tucked his hand beneath her chin and asked, “What’s wrong?”
She refused to tell him, not until she was ready. It didn’t stop a reckless need to antagonize him. “Other than being trapped in a marriage I don’t want?”
His nostrils flared and his eyes sparked. That his voice stayed calm and reasonable intimidated her more than she wanted to acknowledge when he said, “I showed you leniency when you ran away, far more than I might have.”
“I guess I haven’t been mistreated,” she acknowledged, “although many would argue that taking away my freedom is the worst form of abuse.”
His eyes turned speculative. “Whatisfreedom?”
“It’s the ability to choose what we want from our life, to be who we want and shape our own future.”
“And you can’t do that as my wife? Can you not see the endless opportunities you have now as sheikha to a people who want only to admire and respect you?”
She stared at him, trying to read the intensity of his gaze. “Why wouldn’t they admire and respect me now?”
His smooth brow furrowed. “All they’ve seen is a bride who ran away and abandoned them before the ink had dried on the marriage certificate. A sheikha who is insolent and reckless. A sheikha who appears to have no regard or staying power for a country that is peaceful and prosperous.”
She blinked. “They know I ran away?”
He shrugged. “Rumors spread even with the threat of punishment. You can only blanket the gossip now by showing our people that your inner goodness far outweighs any misguided bad.”
“You preach to me like you’ve done no wrong.” She glared a little. “Like you’ve never lied to me.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re going somewhere with this?’
“Guilt, perhaps?” she mocked. Then she added bitterly, “Remorse for the fact you were spying on me long before we met at the altar?”
He exhaled slowly. “So you do remember me.”
“I didn’t until I dreamed about you last night. You were the man who followed me after I stepped outside of the coffee shop with my friends. The same man I’d sensed at least a handful of times beforehand.” Her hands clenched. “Tell me I’m wrong!”
“I never once lied about it,” he replied. “I needed a wife, but I wasn’t going to accept just anyone, no matter the bloodline. Then I took one look at you, at your glorious vivacity and inner strength, and I knew I had to make you mine.”
“But I didn’t want to be yours! I willneverwant to be yours.”
“You don’t know that,” he said quietly, but with more dangerous intensity in his words than if he’d roared them at her.
Her bottom lip trembled. “You could have at least introduced yourself, allowed me to get to know you.” Her voice trembled, too, as she added, “I might even have liked you!”
His smile hinted at sadness. “Yet that first time you saw me you clearly didn’t want to know me. Despite my Middle Eastern looks, I was a foreigner to you, a stranger. I knew right away not to approach you again when we’d have the rest of our lives to get to know one another.”
“That was your choice. Where wasmychoice in all of this?” she said shakily.
