can’t! My parents…”
“They seek to capture you, Mina. I would set you free.”
It was a bitter irony that the very man who’d once promised her freedom was now intent on caging her.
“I was only eighteen,” she exclaimed abruptly.
“You are no longer eighteen.” He sounded dangerous.
“Can’t you understand what it was like for me?” she pleaded, despite herself. “They were my parents and I’d only known you for six months.”
“Then why did you—what is your phrase?” He paused. “Yes…why did you lead me on? Did it amuse you to have an Arab royal at your beck and call?”
He’d never been at her beck and call. At eighteen, she’d had even less self-confidence than she did now, but he’d always made her feel…important. “No! No! I didn’t….”
“Enough.” His voice cut through her protests like a knife. “The truth is that when your family asked you to choose, you did not choose me. You did not even tell me so I could fight for us. There is nothing further to say.”
Jasmine was silenced. Yes, it was the truth. How could she even begin to make a man like him understand what it had been like for her? Born with a mantle of power, Tariq had never known how it felt to be crushed and belittled until he didn’t know his own mind. Shrinking into her corner, she thought back to the day that had changed her forever. Her father had forbidden her to see Tariq, threatening to disown her. She’d begged on her knees but he’d made her choose.
“The Arab or your family.”
He’d always called Tariq “the Arab.” It wasn’t racism, but something much deeper. At first she’d thought it was because they expected her to marry into another high-country farming family. Only later had she understood the ugly reality of why they’d crushed her small rebellion under their feet.
Tariq had been meant for Sarah.
Beautiful Sarah had wished to be a princess, and everyone had assumed it would happen. Except, from the moment he’d arrived, Tariq’s eyes had lingered on Jasmine, the daughter who wasn’t a daughter, the daughter who was a cause for shame, not celebration.
The huge spread in the hills, which had been Jasmine’s home, had been in the Coleridge family for generations. As the beneficiaries of that heritage, Jasmine’s parents had been used to controlling everything in their high-country kingdom and they had feared Tariq’s strength of will. Added to that, his choice of Jasmine over Sarah had made him anathema. To let Jasmine have him when their darling Sarah couldn’t, would have meant being continuously faced with both their failure to manipulate Tariq and the wrong daughter’s happiness. It was ugly and it was vicious, but it was the truth. Jasmine was no longer a needy child, and couldn’t pretend that they’d had her best interests at heart.
“Did you implement that irrigation system?” Her voice was softened by pain. They’d met when he’d visited New Zealand to learn about a revolutionary new watering system discovered by a neighboring family.
“It has been operating successfully for three years.”
She nodded and laid her head against the seat. At eighteen, she’d made the wrong choice because she’d been terrified of losing the only people who might ever accept her, flawed as she was. A week ago, she’d turned her back on those very people and ventured out to try and recapture the glorious love she’d had with Tariq.
What would he say if she told him that she was now alone in the world?
Her father had carried out his threat and disowned her. But this time she hadn’t compromised her soul in a bid for acceptance. She’d walked away, aware that she’d made an irrevocable decision. There would be no welcome back.
The only things Jasmine had in the world were her determination and a soul-deep love that had never died, but she couldn’t tell Tariq that. His pity would be far worse than his anger. She’d chosen him and completely forsaken everything else. But was it too late?
“We are approaching Zulheina, if you wish to look.”
Grateful for a chance to escape the distressing memories, she pressed a button by her elbow and the window rolled down. Warm air floated in, caressing her cold cheeks. “Oh, my,” she whispered, distracted from her emotional agony.
Zulheina was a city of legend. Very few foreigners were ever allowed into the inner sanctum of Zulheil. Business was usually carried out in the larger town of Abraz, in the north. She could see why the people of Zulheil guarded this place with such zeal. It was utterly magnificent.
Fragile-seeming minarets reached for the heavens, illusions that touched the indigo-blue sky. The single river that ran through Zulheil, and eventually fed out into the sea, passed by in a foaming rush. The white marble of the nearest buildings reflected its tumbling, crystalline beauty.
“It’s like something out of a fairy tale.” She was fascinated by the way the water flowed under them as they drove over the bridge and entered the city proper.
“It is now your home.” Tariq’s words were a command.
Strange and wondrous smells drifted to her on the warm breeze. Sounds followed, then the vibrant living colors of the people as the limousine passed through a busy marketplace.
Hard male fingers encircled the soft flesh of her upper arm. Startled, she faced Tariq. His green eyes were hooded, hiding his emotions from her. “I said that it is now your home. You have nothing to say to that?”
Home, Jasmine thought, a sense of wonder infusing her. She’d never had a real home. Her smile was luminous. “I think that it will be no hardship to call this place home.” She thought the panther opposite her relaxed a little. In the next moment, she saw something out of the corner of her eye that made her gasp. “I don’t believe it. It can’t be true.” Ignoring the firm but strangely gentle grip on her arm, she stretched her neck to peer out the window.
Rising in front of her was the most fragile-looking building she’d ever seen. It seemed to be formed out of mist and raindrops, the artistry in the carving magnificent beyond imagining. The crystal-white stone of the building seemed to glow with a pale rose luminescence that had her transfixed.
She turned to Tariq, wide-eyed, forgetting his anger in her amazement. “I could swear that building is made of Zulheil Rose.”
Though Zulheil was a tiny desert sheikdom, enclosed on three sides by bigger powers, and on the fourth by the sea, it was a rich land, producing not just oil, but a beautiful, precious stone called Zulheil Rose. The striking, clear crystal with the hidden fire inside was the rarest gem on the planet, found only in Tariq’s land.
“If your eyes get any bigger, my Jasmine, they’ll rival the sky,” Tariq teased.
Jasmine forgot the stunning building the moment she heard the quiet humor in his tone. Tariq had apparently decided to put aside his anger for the moment.
“That is your new home.”
“What?” She lost any composure she might’ve attained.
He eyed her flushed features with amused interest. “The royal palace
