His dark skin paled. ‘How dare you speak to me this way?’
‘But I’m your wife now, Rashid! Aren’t I entitled to my opinions—?’
‘Not if they are a complete fabrication!’ he snapped.
‘Well, how about a few answers, then?’
He controlled his breathing with difficulty. ‘You really think that I’ve spent the evening making love to Chantal?’ he questioned incredulously.
‘Don’t ever speak her name in front of me!’ She shot him a blistering look, conveniently forgetting that she had been the one to bring the woman’s name up. ‘Were you?’
‘Of course I was not. I told you—I’ve been at the damned embassy!’
‘There’s no “of course” about it, Rashid. You haven’t spent the last two days at the embassy, have you? What else am I to think? You could easily have made love to her! And don’t try to tell me that she wouldn’t still want you to—because what woman wouldn’t?’
He very nearly thanked her for the compliment, but resisted. He had never seen her in such a rage! ‘But you are the woman I make love to. You are my wife, Jenna,’ he stated softly.
‘Except that I’m not—not really. Am I?’ she finished in a small, broken question.
He saw all the fight and the anger leave her, to be replaced by a sadness which smote him like a blow from a sword. ‘You want the truth?’ he questioned huskily.
She shook her head. ‘I don’t know!’
‘Well, whether you want it or not—you need to know it, Jenna.’
‘Rashid—’
‘The day after I asked you to marry me, yes, I did come to Paris—’
‘Don’t!’ She shuddered, but he did not heed her plea.
‘I told Chantal that it was over, that you were to be my bride and yes, she wanted me to make love to her—’
‘Oh, don’t!’ she begged again, but he shook his dark head resolutely.
‘I told her no,’ he continued inexorably. ‘I have not spoken to her since and I have no intention of doing so.’
Her eyes opened very wide. ‘Really?’
‘Really.’ His voice softened. ‘Jenna, what makes you think that I would betray you? Do you think that the vows I made on our wedding day were meaningless?’
She shook her head. ‘How do I know what you would do,’ she asked in frustration, ‘when you won’t let me near you?’
He frowned. ‘But we share a room each night—’
‘When you’re there!’ she argued. ‘And I’m not talking about physically, anyway, Rashid—I’m talking about emotionally!’
‘Emotionally?’ he echoed, as if he was unfamiliar with the word.
‘Yes, emotionally,’ she said tiredly. ‘Apart from on our honeymoon, I feel as though I might as well be living with a robot!’
‘You have many, many insults for me this evening, don’t you, Jenna?’ he observed quietly.
‘I don’t mean to insult you—I’m just telling you how I feel. And don’t glower at me like that, Rashid! I know you’ve had a lifetime of people revering you and only ever speaking to you when you initiate the conversation! But what is the point of being married if we aren’t going to be close to one another?’
The black eyes glittered. ‘You have complaints about our marriage, Jenna?’
‘Yes, I do!’ She drew a deep breath, knowing that she might never have another chance to say this. ‘You never talk to me, do you? You never tell me about your day! Half the time you won’t say where you’re going, or what you’re doing—or who with—so of course my imagination works overtime! And you never seem to stop working, either! When was the last time we spent some quality time together that wasn’t in bed? I’ll tell you when—on our honeymoon, and that was six months ago!’