Safiyah shifted as if to roll away and he stopped her. ‘Stay.’
‘You’re awake?’
‘Barely.’
She chuckled, the sound rich and appealing, but it was the way he felt the vibration of her laugh through his body, his hunger to hear more, that threatened to undo him.
Why, he didn’t know. Except suddenly there came the certainty that this sense of closeness, of emotional intimacy, was dangerous.
Through the night physical desire had been transformed into the illusion of something more profound. Something akin to what he’d felt when he’d first known Safiyah. When she’d had the power to hurt him—and not just his pride, he finally admitted, but something buried even deeper.
That wouldn’t do. No matter how spectacular the sex, Karim needed to remember who he’d married and why. He couldn’t allow himself to be lured into thinking this was more than sexual attraction.
‘Tell me about Abbas.’
Safiyah stiffened and he heard her indrawn breath. Then she rolled away to lie on her back. Though he’d decided to establish some distance, Karim had to make a conscious effort not to haul her back into his arms.
‘Why?’
‘Why not?’ He turned towards her, pillowing his head on one bent arm.
‘You really want to do thisnow?’
He couldn’t read her features but the discordant note in her voice sounded defensive.
‘Your first marriage is hardly a secret.’ He kept his voice even, though it still rankled that she’d gone straight from him to Abbas.
That last night, when she and her father had stayed at the Za’daqi palace, she’d agreed to meet Karim secretly. She’d been his for the taking, though no marriage contract had been drawn up.
Except Ashraf had found him in the secluded garden instead, breaking the news of the medical results that had proved he wasn’t the Sheikh’s son.
The shocking revelation had pushed everything, even Safiyah, from Karim’s head. It hadn’t been till later that he’d realised she must have come to their rendezvous and overheard their conversation. After learning he was illegitimate, she’d dumped him for Abbas.
Now she scrabbled for a sheet, dragging it up to cover herself. ‘There’s nothing much to tell.’ Her voice was brisk. ‘He wanted to marry into my clan.’
‘Go on.’ Was it masochism that made him want to hear more?
‘Rana, my sister, caught his eye first. She was studying in the capital and she was…is…intelligent and pretty.’
Her words struck Karim. It sounded almost as if Safiyah believed her sister outshone her.
‘But then she got sick. Marriage wasn’t possible. And so—’
‘And so you jumped at the chance to marry a king?’
For a second she didn’t answer. Then, tucking the sheet close around her, she rolled to face him. They were less than an arm’s length apart, yet it seemed like more. Even in the darkness he felt the chill in her stare.
‘When I was in Za’daq you weren’t the only one whose father was unwell. My father had received a terminal diagnosis, though he didn’t tell me straight away. He knew he’d be dead within months.’
Karim frowned. He’d never have guessed. Safiyah’s father had looked so hale and hearty.
‘He was old-fashioned in some ways, and desperate to get Rana and me “safely settled”, as he called it, before he died. When Rana got sick…’ another pause, ‘…all his hopes rested on me. He wanted me to marry well—not just for myself, but so Rana would be cared for while she recovered.’
Karim thought of the woman he’d met during the wedding. If she’d been seriously ill it didn’t show now.
‘So it was all your father’s doing?’
On learning of Karim’s illegitimacy her father would have pushed her towards another man. But if Safiyah had loved Karim she’d have stuck with him. She wouldn’t have let herself be driven into another man’s bed. The fact she’d done just that still stuck in his gullet.