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Yet her mind and her body were made for loving.
“Well?” she demanded, dissolving all his fantasies into mist.
“What doyouthink I should do with you?” he asked mildly, though there was nothing mild in the way he reacted to her.
She lifted her chin. “I think you should do the right thing and release me.”
His whole body tensed. If she’d read his thoughts she’d knowrightwasn’t in his best interests and freeing her wouldn’t happen in a million years. “Really?” he drawled.
She nodded, apparently reading his neutral tone as an opportunity. “Yes! You could put me in your helicopter and never have to see me again. We can even live as man and wife on separate continents for a few months to appease our people, and when the time is right, we’ll sign the divorce papers.”
“In Rajhabi, a marriage is for life. If you’d taken any interest at all in our nation you would have known this.”
While other women would have been deflated at his comment, she seemed even more determined to a battle of wills. “As a sheikh highly respected by your people and your peers, you can change those old-fashioned rulings. We’re in the twenty-first century, not—“
“Those old fashioned rulings are from generations of time-honored and valued traditions. In an ever-changing world, that one constant keeps my people happy. Changing them now would start nothing less than a revolt.”
“Maybe from your men,” she muttered derisively.
“More so from the women,” he corrected. “They love tradition and take great pride in ensuring it’s passed on to their children.”
The palace came into sight then, its huge white walls and domed spires shimmering under the setting sun. Fierce joy moved through him. He was proud of his homeland, his people and his culture, and though he agreed that some traditions could be modernized, he wasn’t about to rush into it. His people were his voice and he acted on their behalf.
He glanced at his wife again. He wanted to believe she’d do the right thing by their people, too. But was she too self-centered to have their best interests at heart? Her running away had proven how little she cared about anyone but herself. His nation had never been better off, both economically and politically. War was a distant memory along with poverty, and he intended to keep it that way.
Keeping his tone mild, he said, “You’re so determined to run from our marriage before giving it a chance. It seems to me you’re more scared of change than any number of my people.”
She looked out the side window then, as though caught out by the truth. “I’ve had more time in the western world than I have here. I rejoiced in my freedom and never thought I’d have to return and marry royalty.”
“What you’re objecting to is almost every other woman’s fantasy.”
She sniffed. “Then I guess I’m not like every other woman.”
He couldn’t have agreed more.
Chapter Three
Arabelle shivered as her husband drove between the huge stone pillars, where metal gates opened automatically. She’d only managed to escape in the first place thanks to a late wedding guest who’d entered the gates. As they’d swung open she’d shot through, leaving the solitary guard behind to raise the alarm.
Mahindar parked in front of the palace’s grand entrance, where marble stairs marched up to engraved double doors. Either side of the steps, large palm trees swayed and clumps of ornamental grasses made everything look plush. Pools of water with fountains jetted water, as though mocking the parched desert outside the walls.
He didn’t appear to take any notice of his wealth. He looked stern and forbidding as he unfolded his long length from the driver’s seat and walked around the SUV to open her passenger door.
“Come,” he said. “There is much I need to do before our honeymoon.”
“Honeymoon?”she repeated numbly, before accepting his hand and stepping out of the SUV. She looked back at her tiara and headdress. “Oh, I should probably—“
“Leave them,” he said without a trace of emotion. “My men will see to their return.”
As he shut the door behind her, a man in a white thobe and keffiyeh headdress took the driver’s seat and drove the SUV to the back of the palace, to where she guessed there was a big garage for all of Mahindar’s fancy cars.
Mahindar managed a half-smile that showcased gorgeous white teeth and twin dimples. “And yes,honeymoon.Right now we’re barely more than strangers. A honeymoon is the perfect opportunity to get to know one another.”
She cleared her throat and pulled her hand free. “To be honest I wasn’t sure how important this marriage was to you. I mean, you must have unlimited women willing to be your bride, women who’d lick your toes if you asked them.” She gazed up at him. “Why did my dad sign a contract for you to marry me? Was it money?”
His jaw tightened, a muscle jerking into life in one cheek. “I didn’t want or ask for a dowry. It is no secret Rajhabi’s economy is exceptional and growing.”
“So whatisit you want?” she asked, her eyes narrowing at him. ”A dozen sons? I’m sure there are also plenty of fertile women—”
