Karim’s pride. Once she’d welcomed his attentions. But then he’d been first in line to a royal throne of his own. The eldest son of a family proud of its noble lineage.
‘What will happen to you when the new Sheikh is crowned?’
‘To me?’ Her eyes widened, as if she was surprised he’d even ask. ‘Tarek and I will leave the palace and live elsewhere.’
Tarek. Her son.
He’d imagined once that she’d give him a son…
Karim slammed a barrier down on such sentimental thoughts. He didn’t know what was wrong with him today. It was as if the feelings he’d put away years before hadn’t gone away at all, but had festered, waiting to surge up and slap him down when he least expected it.
Deliberately he did what he did best—focused on the problem at hand, ready to find a solution.
‘So if you have no personal interest in the next Sheikh, why come all the way here to see me? The Assaran envoy saw me a couple of hours ago. Couldn’t you trust him to do the job he was chosen for?’
Karim knew something of Assaran politics. He couldn’t believe the previous Sheikh had allowed his wife to play any significant role in matters of state. Whichever way he examined it, Safiyah’s behaviour was odd.
‘I didn’t want to get involved.’ Again her voice was low. ‘But I felt duty-bound to come, just in case…’ She shook her head and looked at a point near his ear. ‘The Council is very eager to convince you. It was agreed that I should add my arguments if necessary.’
‘And what arguments might those be?’
Karim kept his eyes fixed on her face. He wasn’t tacky enough to stare at all the female bounty encased in rustling silk. But perhaps she’d guessed that he was wondering what persuasions she’d try. Colour streaked her cheekbones and her breasts lifted high on a suddenly indrawn breath.
‘Assara needs you—’
‘In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not into a life of public service any more. I work for myself now.’
Her mouth settled in a line that spoke of determination. Had he ever seen her look like that? His memory of Safiyah at twenty-two was that she’d been gentle and eager to go along with whatever he suggested.
But that had been almost five years ago. He couldn’t be expected to remember everything about her clearly, even if it felt like he did.
‘I could talk about the wealth and honour that will be yours if you take the throne…’
She paused, but he didn’t respond. Karim had his own money. He also knew that being Sheikh meant a lifetime of duty and responsibility. Riches and the glamour of a royal title didn’t sway him.
Safiyah inclined her head, as if his non-response confirmed what she’d expected. ‘Most important of all, you’d make a fine leader. You have the qualities Assara needs. You’re honest, fair and hardworking. The political elite respect you. Plus you’re interested in the wellbeing of the people. Everyone says it was you who began to make Za’daq better for those who weren’t born rich.’
Karim felt his eyebrows climb. He was tempted to think she was trying to flatter him into accepting the position. Except there was nothing toadying about her demeanour.
‘The nobles trust you. The people trust you.’
He shook his head. ‘That was a long time ago.’
‘Your qualities and experience will stand you in good stead no matter how long it’s been. And it’s only been a few years.’
Years since he’d left his homeland and turned his back on everything he’d known. He was only now beginning to feel that he’d settled into his new life.
Safiyah leaned forward, and he felt for the first time since she’d arrived that she wasn’t conscious of her body language. Earlier she’d seemed very self-aware. Now she was too caught up in their discussion to be guarded. He read animation in her brown eyes and knew, whatever her real reason for being here, that she meant what she said.
Karim canted closer, drawn to her in spite of himself.
‘It’s what you were born to do and you’d excel at it.’
Abruptly Karim sank back in his seat. Her words had unravelled the spell she’d woven. The moment of connection broke, shattered by a wave of revulsion.
‘It doesn’t matter what I was born to do.’ His nostrils flared as he swallowed rising acid. ‘I’ve renounced all that.’
Because he wasn’t the man the world thought him. He was the bastard son of an unfaithful queen and her shadowy lover.
‘Of course it matters!’ Her clasped hands trembled as if with the force of her emotion. ‘Assara desperately needs a ruler who can keep the country together—especially now, when rival clans are stirring dissension and jealousy. Each wants their own man on the throne.’
Karim shrugged. ‘Why should I bother? One of them will be elected and the others will have to put up with it. Maybe there’ll be unrest for a bit, but it will die down.’
‘You don’t see…’
She paused and looked down at her hands. Karim saw a tiny cleft appear in her cheek and then vanish. She was biting the inside of her mouth again. Absurdly, the sight moved him.
‘What aren’t you saying, Safiyah?’
It was the first time he’d spoken her name aloud in years. Her chin jerked up and for a moment her gaze clung to his. But he wasn’t foolish enough to be beguiled by that haunted look.
See? Already it was gone, replaced by a smooth, composed mask.
‘You’re the best man for the role, Karim—far better than any of the other contenders. You’d make a real difference in Assara. The country needs a strong, honest leader who’ll work for all his people.’
Karim digested that. Was she implying that her dead husband hadn’t been a good ruler? The idea intrigued him. Or was she just referring to unrest now?
To his annoyance her expression gave little away. The Safiyah he’d once known, or thought he’d known, had been far easier to read. Even more annoying was the fact his interest was aroused by the idea of doing something intrinsically worthwhile. Something more meaningful than merely building his own wealth.
Karim frowned. How had Safiyah guessed such an appeal would tempt him?
He enjoyed the challenge of expanding his business interests. The cut and thrust of negotiation, of locating opportunities ripe for development and capitalising on them. That took skill, dedication and a fine sense of timing. Yet was it as satisfying as the work he’d been trained to do—using his skills to rule a nation?
The thought of Safiyah knowing him so well—better, it seemed, than he knew himself—infuriated him. This was the woman who’d spurned him when she discovered the secret taint of his illegitimacy. He’d believed in her, yet she’d turned her back on him without even the pretence
