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If that wasn’t enough to set Yasmine’s blood to boil, Shakira staring at Jamal’s cock with a slow and provocative lick of her lips sent a flare of rage through Yasmine right along with a little envy. She’d never know now what real sex felt like. Not after this delightful little escapade. Jamal wouldn’t go near her.
It might yet be Shakira who slaked his lust.
Not if I have any say in it.
Her father stomped down the stairs, a nerve throbbing to life in his jaw and all his attention fixated on his daughter. “Did you forget about your wedding to Sheikh Arif in three weeks’ time?” he roared. “You’ve wrecked everything! How do you propose I save our country now from short-term financial ruin?”
Her vision clouded and her pulse pounded in her ears. She should have known her upcoming nuptials weren’t just about peace negotiations. Her father was getting financial assistance from her future husband. She was little more than a broodmare.
But then when had her happiness ever mattered to her father?
“I don’t know, Dad. Do you have any other daughters you can sell to the highest bidder?”
Her dad lifted his hand, his palm hitting her face with a loud, stingingcrack.
Tears welled but she didn’t cry. She didn’t back down. This was her one chance to be honest. “You hate that I wasn’t the son you wanted, don’t you?”
He bristled. “Your western blood doesn’t give you the right to disrespect me and act how you please.” He shook his head. “I should never have impregnated your mother. Yes, I wanted a son and you’ve been nothing but—“
“That’s enough.”
Jamal’s voice might be quiet and controlled, but it throbbed with undercurrents of menace. “Your daughter is willful and strong, traits you might admire in a man.”
“Except she’s not a man!” her dad refuted.
“No. She’s a beautiful, independent woman. One I can’t help but admire. As should you.”
Yasmine’s heart soared that Jamal defended her. She’d expected fury, not compassion.
Her father refocused on Jamal, and Yasmine could almost see the gears shifting in his crafty mind. “And just how far does that admiration go? Are you willing to marry her?”
Jamal crossed his arms and cocked a brow, and Yasmine held her breath. Her entire future hinged on his answer. That he was a renowned playboy, a bachelor who loved his single life, meant marrying her wouldn’t be advantageous to him. He was beyond sexy and filthy rich; he could have any woman he wanted.
“The way I see it you don’t have a choice,” her father added. “You’ve ruined her for Sheikh Arif. He wanted a virgin bride.”
Her dad was pushing too hard, damn it. She only hoped Jamal’s strong moral code would see him do the right thing.
“Of course that does come with certain…stipulations,” her father added.
Yasmine clenched her hands. Her dad needed to shut up before Jamal went running for the hills.
“Like a big, fat dowry?” Jamal asked drily.
“It only seems fair,” her father said, adjusting the double cord of his agal that kept his ghutrah in place on his head.
Yasmine knew the habit well. Her dad was nervous. He really must have a lot on the line by marrying off his only legitimate daughter.
Jamal nodded. “Very well.”
She turned to Jamal. “Wait. Youwantto marry me?” she asked in a croaky voice, her face heating as she glanced at his powerful physique, his impressive manhood.
“Don’t sound so surprised,” he said mildly. “It’s the honorable thing to do.” He shrugged. “And I’m certain you will give me many sons and daughters.”
“Children?” she said weakly. Is that all she was to any man—a broodmare?
“Isn’t that what you want from me in return?” Jamal asked.
She glanced at her dad. His fuchsia-flushed face had already faded back to its normal swarthy color. In fact, he looked rather pleased by the outcome. Of course her dad would be happy. Not only would he get grandchildren he’d get a filthy-rich son-in-law into the bargain…a sheikh, no less.
