her like she was a painting. “A meeting in your office would have sufficed if you’d been less…impassioned. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever encountered.”
She had expected another compliment on her looks. This was far more disarming. It made her feel like he saw within her, to the real woman inside, the one few noticed or understood. Plus it was an acknowledgment of something she’d had to work on most of her life: being unique from her sister and being comfortable with her own powerful emotions.
If she wasn’t careful, she would be seduced without realizing it. He was very good at it.
“I like your sister, you know. I wouldn’t want to hurt her. She’s delightful.” She waited a beat, deliberate with her timing as she added, “Not much like you at all.”
His mouth twitched and he took a thoughtful sip of his wine. His lashes were so thick and long, they were almost pretty, but he was undeniably masculine as he lifted them to regard her. There was nothing soft in the dangerous air he projected.
She held her breath.
“Feel privileged, Angelique. I’m letting you get away with a lot.”
She bit the inside of her lip, wondering if she should apologize. Was she ruining this little bit of rapport they’d arrived at?
“Hasna is a lovely person,” he agreed. “And you’re right. She and I are opposites. Women lead different lives in our country so they grow up with gentler personalities.” Something about that statement made him briefly pensive. “At least that’s what I’ve always thought made her so tenderhearted and me more practical and assertive.”
“Now you’re not so sure?” She tried to read his inscrutable expression. “Supporting her desire for a love marriage sounds rather sentimental, if you ask me.”
His cheeks hollowed as though he considered his words carefully.
“She was very upset about losing Jamal. I’m not incapable of compassion. I want her to be happy in her marriage and we’ve established that we both wish to protect our sisters from heartache, have we not? Is that how you came to open a fashion house with yours?”
She heard that as the shift in topic it was, which intrigued her because something about the way he was trying to compensate Hasna for their brother’s loss struck her as guilt. Or responsibility, maybe.
Because she was the sensitive, intuitive one. In some ways it was her burden, but she couldn’t deny that she often picked up on things others missed.
“Trella started making her own clothes,” she began, then recalled why. Those early years of recovery had been so brutal. As if the kidnapping hadn’t been traumatic enough, the press had crucified Trella, dubbing her The Fat One among other things.
“It’s not that interesting a story, actually. Just something that both of us enjoyed. We have an artistic flare and work well together so we gave it a shot.”
Trella was actually The Smart One. Her business plan had been excellent. The boys would have underwritten anything she’d proposed, to spoil her and give her something she could control and succeed at, but she had been determined to make her mark on the world in a very specific way. Feminine strength imbued every aspect of Maison des Jumeaux. Angelique was deeply proud to be part of it.
“The press makes a lot of the fact that family money gave us our start, but we’ve paid back the initial loan. I don’t know why it’s important to me that you know that.”
“So I don’t think you’re chasing Sadiq’s money, presumably.”
“No.” She couldn’t help smirking at the way he stiffened every time she contradicted him. “I think it’s because I know you respect women who are ambitious and independent. Isn’t that why you were so adamant Hasna finish school?”
“No.” He waited out the delivery of their appetizers before expanding on his reply. “The more accurate reason is that I didn’t want to give my support too quickly or easily because, in order to broker that deal with my father, I promised that my own marriage would be an arranged one. With a suitable bride from my own country, one he could choose. You understand why I’m telling you that.”
“THAT’S QUITE A SACRIFICE.” Angelique’s eyelids shimmered with golden tones, shielding her thoughts.
“It’s duty. My father is not what anyone would call progressive. I have visions of a modern Zhamair. It would be good for our people, but I will never be given the chance to steer it that way if I don’t play by his rules. My uncle would be more than happy to accept the crown if my father decided I was too liberal. My uncle is even more of a throwback than my father. So I have agreed to my father’s condition. But I’m not in a hurry to give up my freedom.”
He let himself admire her smooth skin with its warm glow, her mouth gently pouted in thought. Their kiss was still branding a permanent pattern into his memories—exactly the sort of freedom he was loathe to relinquish by tying himself down.
“You intend to be faithful to your wife, then, once you’re married?”
“Certainly until heirs have been established. After that…” He scratched beneath his chin. “My father has two wives. I have not observed having more than one woman coming to your bed to be as idyllic as it sounds.”
Her lashes came up, gaze curious as all Westerners were when he mentioned it. “Jealousy?” she guessed.
“How did you know?” Kasim said drily.
He privately thought the polygamy was the reason his father was so ferociously implacable, refusing to evolve with the times or even hold a rational conversation. He consistently asserted his will and slammed doors on further discussion. If he didn’t control every aspect of his life with an iron fist, his wives might tear him in two.
That emotional turmoil bleeding all over his childhood was the reason Kasim had grown such a thick shield of detachment. How else could he have withstood the helpless agony of witnessing his brother’s struggle? How else could he have been ruthless enough to end it? Taken altogether, it was the reason he was just as happy to marry a stranger. Love provoked madness and pain of every variety.
“Was your father’s marriage to the queen an arranged one?”
“It was.” He knew where she was going with that. “And it was a contented one until he brought Fatina into it. Which is why I don’t intend to do anything similar.”
“Because you want to rule,” she murmured, gaze narrowed as she weighed that.
“That concern you feel for your sister’s well-being? That’s how I feel for my entire nation,” he explained quietly.
He had never put it in so many words. As her lashes widened at the magnitude of what he was saying, he experienced a lurch in his heart. He had always thought of it as a goal, not a sacrifice. Suddenly he saw it differently.
“None of us are in a hurry to marry,” Angelique mused, dropping her gaze again. “We’re a tight bunch, my siblings and I. Letting someone into my life
