The idea of making a real difference in Assara, doing what he was trained for and what he enjoyed, tempted him. He could do a lot for the place and its people. Assara was a fine country, but it was behind Za’daq in many ways. He’d enjoy the challenge.
Yet behind all those considerations was the thought of Safiyah. Of what would happen to her and her son if Shakroun became Sheikh.
Karim paced the private gym from end to end. Safiyah was nothing to him—no more important than any other Assaran citizen. He should be able to contemplate her without any stirring of emotion.
He grimaced. Emotion had lured him into playing out that scene with her earlier. He’d drawn out the interview with talk of marriage purely so he could watch her squirm. It had been a low act. Karim was ashamed of stooping to it. He couldn’t recall ever deliberately lying before. But he’d lied blatantly today. To salve his pride. And because he hated the fact that Safiyah could make him feel anything when she felt nothing. To her he was, as he’d always been, a means to an end.
But his talk of marriage had backfired mightily.
Because now he couldn’t get it out of his head.
Karim was intrigued by her. He kept circling back to the idea of Safiyah as his lover. Maybe because although they’d once been on the verge of betrothal, they’d never shared more than a few kisses. The night she’d agreed to come to him had been the night his world had been blown apart.
That had to be the reason he felt so unsettled. Safiyah was unfinished business.
Lust speared him, dark and urgent, as he remembered her in the crimson dress that had clung like a lover’s hands. The delicate pendant she’d worn, with a single glowing red stone, had drawn his eyes to the pale perfection of her throat. He’d wanted to bury his face where her pulse beat too fast and find out if she was still as sensitive there as he remembered. Or if that too had been a hoax. Like the way she’d pretended to fall for him.
He knew he should walk away.
Safiyah tested his limits more than any woman he’d met. He didn’t want to spend his life with a woman he couldn’t trust or respect. Even to satisfy his lust.
But what if he did walk away? If he let Shakroun take the throne?
Karim would be in part responsible for what that thug did to Assara. And what he might do to Safiyah and her boy.
Karim stopped pacing and stared at the tall figure reflected in the mirror on the far side of the room. He saw hands clenched into fists, tendons standing taut, a body tensed for action.
He’d been raised to put the welfare of a nation before his own. That conditioning was hard to break.
Surelythatwas what made him hesitate.
He had a major decision to make and it wouldnothinge on Safiyah.
Karim forked his hand through his hair, scraping his fingers along his scalp. The trouble was, the more he thought about it, the more he realised marriage to the Assaran Queen was the best way to ensure he was accepted as Sheikh.
If he chose to take the role.
If he could bring himself to marry the woman who’d once spurned him.
‘He’sfine, Safiyah. Truly. It was just a runny nose and he’s okay now. He’s bright as anything and he’s been playing with the puppies.’
The phone to her ear, Safiyah rolled onto her back on the wide bed, imagining Tarek with a tumble of puppies. He’d be in his element. He loved animals, but Abbas had always said a palace was no place for pets.
‘You brought them to the palace on purpose, didn’t you, Rana? You’re hoping we’ll keep one.’
Not that she minded. These last few years she’d missed being around dogs and horses. There was something soothing about their unquestioning love.
‘Guilty as charged.’
Her sister’s chuckle made Safiyah smile. It was such a carefree sound, and one she still cherished. Rana was happy and settled now—such a tremendous change from a few years ago.
‘But you know how hard it can be to find homes for a litter. Especially since they’re not pure-bred. What’sonelittle puppy…?’
Safiyah laughed at Rana’s exaggerated tone of innocence. ‘Probably a lot of trouble until it’s house-trained and learns not to chew everything in sight. But you’re right. A dog would be good company for Tarek.’
Not that her son showed any sign of missing Abbas. He’d rarely seen his father more than once a week, and then only for short periods, usually in the throne room or the royal study.
Those meetings had been formal affairs. Abbas hadn’t been one to cuddle his son, or play games. He’d said that was how royal heirs were raised. They weren’t supposed to cling to their parents. And besides, as Sheikh he’d had other things to keep him busy. He’d assured Safiyah that when Tarek was old enough he’d take him in hand and teach him what he needed to know to rule Assara.