The Inherited Bride. Maisey Yates
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“Go to bed, Isabella.” His voice was as hard as everything else about him.
She felt as if she was going to break, but she wouldn’t do it in front of him.
She nodded jerkily and stumbled into her bedroom, closing the door behind her with a click.
Adham stalked across the room and retrieved his phone from the coffee table, hitting the speed dial for his brother, not caring what time it was in their home country.
“Salaam, brother,” Adham said curtly.
“Salaam, “ Hassan returned the greeting, his tone questioning. “You’ve found Isabella?”
“I have found your wayward fiancée, as requested.”
“And she is well?”
“She is uninjured, if that’s what you mean. But she did make another escape attempt.”
“She’s unhappy?” His brother sounded genuinely concerned.
“She is a spoiled child. She has no reason to be so discontent. She wants for nothing.”
Hassan sighed heavily into the phone. “I regret that she is reluctant about the marriage. But it’s a much needed alliance, and marriage is the best way to seal such bargains. It is necessary insurance in something so critical.”
“I understand the reason for your union. But I find her childish.”
“You do not think she will make a suitable bride?”
“I will gladly hand her over to you and see that she becomes your problem as quickly as possible.”
Hassan laughed. “You make me eager for her to arrive.” He paused for a moment. “Is there nothing that can be done to make her happy? A gift, perhaps? A ring that is more to her liking?”
“She wants to see the Eiffel Tower,” Adham bit out in response.
“Simple enough.”
“She has some idea that she is lacking in life experience. She intends to go and find herself some experience.”
There was another pause on the other end of the line. “The wedding is not for two more months, Adham. If that is what she wants, I see no reason why you can’t accommodate her—so long as the experience she seeks is not in a man’s bed.”
There was something different in his brother’s tone. A desperation he had not heard before. Adham had the feeling that his request had little to do with Isabella, but he would not ask.
“I am not a babysitter.” He repeated his earlier words. “Have one of your other men come and watch over her while she tries to play at living her spoiled princess fantasy of what real life is.”
“I don’t have that kind of trust in anyone else. Another man would be too tempted by her. I’m certain that you’ve noticed she’s an incredibly beautiful woman.”
He’d noticed. It was difficult not to. She had the sort of beauty that no red-blooded man could ignore. And he didn’t want to spend any more time with her than was necessary.
“You will keep her safe?” Hassan pressed.
“You have my word. On my honor, I will keep her from harm. I will keep her untouched.” His vow was from the heart. He served Hassan always. Gladly. Hassan was his only family, and there was no bond stronger than that forged in blood.
“I have absolute faith in you, Adham,” his brother continued. “You will keep her safe and make her happy. It will ease my conscience.”
“As you will it,” Adham ground out, before ending the call.
He tossed the phone onto the couch and tried to calm his raging pulse. At the moment he felt like a fox that had just been asked to guard the henhouse.
Kissing her had been a miscalculation on his part. He had not anticipated his body’s reaction to such a simple thing. He had far too much experience for a mere kiss to fire his blood.
And yet kissing Isabella had done just that. His body was still hard, and a dark, physical need was gripping him. There was no denying that in a physical sense he desired her. And she was the one woman he was forbidden to touch.
But it was a simple matter of control. And once he had made his decision he would not deviate from it. He never did.
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