The Sheikh's Contract Bride. Teresa Southwick

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I ask you a question?”

      “Do you have to?”

      He refused to be distracted by her teasing or her beauty. “In all of your instruction on protocol, diplomacy, and etiquette, were you ever once told that it was politically incorrect to compare royal life to the flu or a death sentence?”

      Her chin lifted slightly as she said, “I’d like to be clear on something as well.”

      “I am happy to discuss anything with you.” He noticed that she had not answered his question. “What is it you wish to know?”

      “Are you really all right with having your bride picked out for you? Like a tie? Or a pair of shoes?”

      “You are hardly a tie.”

      She started pacing. “But you know what I mean. What if we don’t get along? What if I snore? What if we don’t get each other’s sense of humor? What if you don’t have one? What if—”

      He held up a hand. “Clearly you have reservations about the betrothal.”

      “Yes,” she said with great feeling. “Don’t you?”

      “No.”

      She had been chosen and educated in the proper behavior of the wife of the King. Together they would guide this country into a powerful position in the global community. That was all he needed to know. And she had not once mentioned the matter that he would have expected a woman with doubts to bring up.

      “Are you not concerned about love?” he asked.

      “No.” Her tone was rife with unexpected passion.

      “You do not wish to be in love?”

      “Not even for money,” she confirmed. But her gaze lowered just before she turned away and started pacing again. “Love is not all it’s cracked up to be.”

      “I agree.” He knew why he did not wish to experience the emotion again, but he was most curious to know what had poisoned her against it.

      “That’s good.”

      “Yes. Accord is something to be treasured between a man and his wife. That bodes well for—”

      “Wait.”

      “What?” he asked.

      “Just because neither of us wants to be in love it doesn’t get us on the same planet with accord. Love is simply one issue. There are billions of things to think about.”

      “Again, I agree. After we are married we will have the rest of our lives to work out these things.”

      She stopped in front of him. “And there’s my point. A man and woman contemplating spending the rest of their lives together usually work the big stuff out before they get engaged.”

      “Royalty is different.”

      Her look was wry. “No kidding.”

      “Is your father aware of your misgivings? Have you discussed this with him?”

      Her gaze skittered away. “He’s more into issuing proclamations and orders than in having actual discussions,” she answered, which was not an answer at all.

      “If you do not accept the time-honored tradition of this betrothal, then why did you come all this way to marry me?”

      “That’s the thing,” she said. Her gaze was direct when she met his. “I came all this way to talk you out of it.”

      CHAPTER TWO

      “YOU came halfway around the world to change my mind about an honored Bha’Kharian tradition?”

      Beth winced when he put it like that. She’d come because her sister had begged her. Addie needed time to figure out how to break off the engagement without alienating their father. Anything less than blind obedience would result in being cut out of his life as if she’d never existed. Addie was terrified to take that step and close the door on her relationship with the only parent she had.

      Beth wasn’t as docile as her sister and said what was on her mind—a flaw that had already damaged her relationship with her father. Raised without a mother, she understood why Addie was desperate to preserve her remaining family connections. If not for her sister, Beth would have grown up in an emotional vacuum. She’d have no blueprint for love. Granted, she’d been burned by the emotion, but better to have loved and lost, as the saying went. She couldn’t stand by and do nothing when the sister who’d taught her to love might be cut off from it.

      Talking Malik out of this tradition made perfect sense for everyone. Putting herself in his shoes—knowing that his bride had been chosen and he’d had no say in the matter—maybe she had a better than even chance of making him see reason. For God’s sake, he was going to be King. Shouldn’t he have a choice about the woman who would help him shoulder that responsibility?

      She looked up at him. “Sometimes change is good. Shake things up.”

      “Sometimes the old ways are better.”

      “All right,” she said, tapping her lip. “But you never answered my question about whether or not you’re okay with not choosing your own bride.”

      “There are advantages to letting others with nothing clouding their objectivity do the picking.”

      “Picking?” She put her hands on her hips as she met his gaze. “You make me sound like a ripe plum.”

      “On the contrary, plums are sweeter and more docile. Aside from those two things—” he shrugged “—I am well pleased with the selection my father made.”

      Beth didn’t know if she’d just been complimented or insulted. Or both.

      “Well, of course you’re pleased. What’s not to like?”

      “Please explain.” He folded his arms over his chest and gave her his full attention.

      “An arranged marriage works in your favor because you’re a powerful man.”

      He shook his head. “I do not understand what that has to do with anything.”

      Was he deliberately being obtuse? “Being in a position of power means you get to control everything. You can set the rules. Nothing about this situation works in my favor.”

      “Nothing?” He frowned. “Do you find me unattractive?”

      “No.” What she wanted to say was Good God, no. “You’re very handsome.”

      One corner of his mouth lifted. “Does my personality displease you?”

      “Since we just met, it’s too soon to tell. So far you seem okay.”

      He nodded. “Is the palace not to your liking? You object to living here?”

      “Oh,

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