Karim wanted sex with her?
Or was he just trying to make her squirm?
Her hair brushed her cheeks as she shook her head. ‘No.’
‘Because you don’t want me, Safiyah? Or because you’re scared you want me too much?’
‘Your ego is monumental, Karim.’ Adrenaline shot through her and her jaw tilted imperiously.
He merely shrugged. ‘I call it as I see it. From where I stand I suspect you’re not as uninterested as you say. But I would never force myself on an unwilling woman.’
Safiyah exhaled slowly, trying to banish that panicky feeling. ‘I have your word on that?’
‘You do.’ He paused to let her absorb the words. ‘No sex unless you want it, Safiyah. Does that satisfy you?’
She surveyed him carefully. Surely this was just macho male posturing because she’d said she didn’t want him. Karim would soon find some ravishing mistress to keep him occupied.
He might be the man who’d dumped her, but she believed him too proud to break his word. Clearly the Council thought the same. And when it boiled down to it what real choice did she have? She needed to save Tarek.
Finally she nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘You actually trust my word?’ His cool tone and the jut of his jaw spoke of haughty male pride.
‘Yes.’
Still his frown lingered.
‘After all, I’d be entrusting you with my son’s wellbeing.’
Saying it aloud sent a shiver rippling down her spine. Not because Karim would hurt them, but at the idea of tying herself once more to a man who saw her as a mere convenience. But she’d survived that once. She could again.
Safiyah returned his stare with one of her own, trying not to catalogue those spare, attractive features she’d once daydreamed about. She reminded herself that he was arrogant and unfeeling, a man who’d toyed with her.
What had happened to the man she’d fallen for at twenty-two? Had she been completely misled by his charm and apparent kindness? What had made him cold and bitter? The same mysterious thing that had driven him to give up his throne?
It didn’t matter. She wasn’t about to pry into his past or his character, beyond the fact that he would do the right thing. When it came to his honour, and his work for his people, Karim’s record was strong. The Royal Council wouldn’t have made its offer if there were doubts. It had deliberated carefully before approaching Karim, investigating not only his years in Za’daq but his recent activities.
Nevertheless…
‘If you become Sheikh, what about my son, Tarek? Are you serious about adopting him?’
Karim inclined his head. ‘I told you before—I’m not the man to steal your son’s birthright. He’ll still be in line to become Sheikh eventually.’
It seemed too good to be true. If anyone else had said it Safiyah would have doubted they meant it. But Karim had already walked away from one throne. It was still on the tip of her tongue to ask what had prompted that action, but she kept silent. That didn’t matter now. As he’d said earlier, the past was best left alone. All that mattered was Tarek’s safety and Assara’s.
She clasped her hands at her waist and stood silent, watching him. He couldn’t have made it clearer that he saw marriage to her as a necessity, not a pleasure. And she should be used to being viewed as a political expedient.
Yet still it hurt!
Abbas had married her because it had suited him to build an alliance with her clan, so when the time had come for him to marry he’d turned his eyes to her family. At first he’d been interested in her clever younger sister, studying at university in the capital. When that hadn’t been possible he’d made do with Safiyah.
To accept a second marriage of convenience, to another man who had no feelings for her, was a terrible thing. So terrible Safiyah wanted to smash something. To tell Karim in scathing detail what he could do with his marriage plans.
But she loved her son too much. She’d do anything to keep him safe. Her happiness meant nothing against that. And as for the dreams she’d once harboured of finding love…
Safiyah shuddered and rubbed her hands up her arms. As a twenty-seven-year-old widow she’d be a fool to believe in romance.
‘What are you thinking?’