‘I didn’t know you were thinking of marriage.’ She’d heard whispers that the elders were talking about the need for a royal heir, but the consensus was that Sayid had no inclination to marry yet.
One dark eyebrow rose as if in surprise at her temerity. ‘Yet I am.’ He paused and seemed to gather himself. This time his smile almost reached his eyes. ‘I want you as my wife.’
Again the urge to fall into his embrace was almost irresistible. It would have been, Lina knew, if he’d opened his arms. She was strong but not that strong. Instead he held himself still, watching her with something in his eyes—detachment or calculation—that made her spine crackle as it iced over.
‘Is it because you forgot to use a condom last night? Are you afraid I might be pregnant?’
He stiffened, a real feat when he was already ramrod straight. His mouth twisted wryly. ‘I hoped you hadn’t noticed. I didn’t want you to worry. It was appalling of me to forget.’
Relief poured through Lina and some of the tension left her taut frame. She’d found his unstoppable passion anything but appalling.
‘I wasn’t worried.’ Secretly she’d wondered if it might be possible his child was even now forming inside her. It was stupid to think it, since the chances were slim. Yet that hadn’t stopped the glow of delight that had carried her through the day. ‘I knew you’d look after me, if I got pregnant.’
Lina paused, watching Sayid’s face, knowing there was more. She could take the proposal at face value or she could probe. Perhaps the fact there hadn’t actually been a proposal was what made her persist.
‘The chances are I’m not pregnant.’ Her voice dipped on the last word. ‘A marriage would be premature.’
Why was she holding back when she wanted this so much?
Because she wanted Sayid to want her in the same way. Yet he looked anything but jubilant or excited.
He scowled. ‘You don’t want to marry me?’ Disbelief made his voice rise. If the situation weren’t so fraught Lina might have smiled. Her lover was so absolutely sure of himself, and with good reason.
‘What I want, Sayid, is to know why you want to marry me.’ She folded her arms across her chest, hoping to look stronger than she felt despite the yearning to say yes. ‘We’ve always been honest with each other. I’d like to understand.’ When still he remained silent she continued quickly. ‘It’s not as if you love me.’
If this were her fantasy he’d pull her to him and admit he was crazy with love for her. That it didn’t matter that she was from another class, ill-suited for the role of Sheikha. That he cared for nothing but her.
Dream on, Lina.
Nevertheless, she was on tenterhooks waiting for his reply.
‘Royalty doesn’t marry for love, Lina.’ For the first time since she’d entered the room she saw a flash of the man she’d fallen for. The man who, love or not, cared for her, at least a little. The warmth in his eyes spoke of tenderness and—
She sucked in a sharp breath, sure that was pity she read in his expression.
‘I understand that,’ she said quickly. ‘That’s why I’m surprised. I’m hardly an appropriate royal bride.’
Instantly he moved nearer, then pulled up abruptly, as if preferring to keep his distance. The chill that had started in her spine worked inwards towards her vital organs. No, he wasn’t overcome by love.
‘You underestimate yourself, Lina. You’re beautiful and charming. You have winning ways and would make an excellent hostess. Given time I’m sure the people will love you.’
The people, but not Sayid. It was what he didn’t say that spoke most loudly.
‘It’s true my advisers have been pointing out the advantages of a royal marriage to secure the throne for the future.’
A baby. That was what he meant. The pair of them making a baby together. Lina’s arms tightened protectively around her body at the sudden uprush of excitement at the idea of becoming a mother to Sayid’s child.
Yet her excitement soured. She might be a country girl, still learning the ways of the city, she might be late acquiring an education, but some things she understood. She knew the reality of an unequal marriage.
Lina didn’t want a marriage like her parents’ where all power rested with the husband and the wife was expected to be continually grateful he’d plucked her out of poverty. She didn’t want a marriage solely to beget an heir.
She wanted a man who’d be her partner, even if to the outside world his authority far outstripped hers. She wanted to be able to speak her mind, help make decisions and above all love and be loved in return.
You don’t want much, do you? See where your western education with its ideas of equality between the sexes has left you?
‘Still,’ she persisted, wondering where she found the strength to withstand not only Sayid but her own reckless heart, ‘you don’t need to marry me. A few days will confirm if I’m pregnant.’ Her eyes narrowed on his sombre features. ‘Something has happened, hasn’t it? What?’
‘Isn’t it enough that I want this?’
This. Not you.
Suddenly revelation hit. Lina had her answer. It wasn’t enough.
Because she loved him. She’d been in love since she was seventeen and instead of growing out of it, she’d fallen deeper in love with Sayid.
She loved him and wanted his love in return. It might be hopeless, ridiculous, asking the impossible of the man who’d already given her so much, but that was what she craved. Lina was no longer subservient enough to be overawed by him. Or to settle for a relationship where she wasn’t valued. Sayid had taught her to value herself and she couldn’t go back to being a chattel.
‘Why, Sayid?’
‘No one else pushes the boundaries like you. You know that, don’t you?’ He crossed his arms, echoing her stance, yet on him it looked combative not protective. Finally he spoke. ‘Because it’s the right thing.’
His jaw firmed and his pulse beat hard at his temple. He looked on the edge of losing his temper, something she’d never seen.
‘Because I was a virgin?’ But if that were the case surely they’d have had this conversation days ago.
His head jerked back as if she’d slapped him. She even thought he paled.
‘That too.’ He nodded. ‘You deserve a respectable outcome.’
A respectable outcome. It sounded so impersonal, as if she were a business or a government strategy. Not a woman craving warmth and love.
Nausea rose from her belly to her mouth, acid burning her throat.
‘Something’s happened. Someone has said I’m not respectable—is
