This marriage was going to be far worse than her first. She was marrying not a stranger, but the one man she’d ever loved. The man she’d yearned for with all her youthful heart.
She didn’t love him any more. The very idea chilled her. Because doing so would make her impossibly vulnerable. But she’d cared for him once and felt sickened by the idea of living a pale imitation of the life she’d once hoped for.
Yet it was worse even than that. For though she didn’t love him, and he was indifferent to her, Safiyah still wanted Karim as a woman wanted a man.
She desired him.
How was she to survive this marriage? Ignoring his indifference and the women he’d take into his bed? She didn’t—
Suddenly the old men around the Sheikh shuffled back and that bronzed, handsome face turned. Safiyah felt the impact of that stare. It seemed as if his gaze bored straight past her blushing cheeks, past the sumptuous gown and jewels, deep into her aching heart.
The illusion strengthened when his eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared, as if he sensed her doubts and the urge to flee which she had only just mastered.
But Safiyah was strong. Or she could pretend to be—even if she felt weak-kneed and terrified.
She lifted her chin and held that keen gaze like a queen.