CHAPTER TEN
POLITESTRANGERS.
Karim grimaced. The idea was ludicrous, but that was exactly what they were. Even after seven nights away from the capital on their supposed honeymoon.
He swore and shoved his chair back from the desk, swamped by the discontent that hounded him whenever he tried and failed to break through Safiyah’s reserve.
Or when he tried to determine why doing that was so important to him.
Every morning and for a couple of hours in the evening Karim worked, grappling with the multitude of matters requiring the new Sheikh’s attention. Each day he breakfasted with Tarek and Safiyah, and they spent the afternoons together as a family. For Karim was determined to establish a good relationship with his new son. Not for Tarek a life in which the only male role model was a man he hated spending time with.
To Karim’s surprise the boy had accepted him. Not only that but, given the chance, Tarek dogged Karim’s footsteps as if fascinated by him.
Or just previously starved of male attention?
The picture Karim had built of Abbas was of a man with little time for his wife or son. A man caught up in the business of ruling, or perhaps a man too wrapped up in himself to care about anyone else.
That possibility stirred indignation in Karim’s breast.
His own dysfunctional family had made him impatient with those who didn’t appreciate the value of what they had. Which was why he was determined to make this work—for all of them.
Yet between Karim and Safiyah there yawned a void. Safiyah held herself aloof. Each day it was like conversing at a formal banquet with a foreign ambassador—all charm on the surface but with neither letting their guard down.
He’d never met a woman so adept at avoiding discussions about herself. Whenever he pressed for more she lifted her eyebrows as if surprised and deftly changed the subject.
If she’d fobbed him off with trivialities it wouldn’t have worked, but Safiyah was a fount of knowledge on Assaran politics. Her shrewd observations on key individuals, on brewing issues and provincial power-plays were informative and incredibly useful to a man shouldering the burden of ruling a new country.
The only time she let her guard slip was in bed. Or in the shower. Or during their midnight swims. Or wherever else they had sex. Then she was a siren who drove him wild with her responsiveness and, increasingly, her demands.
Sometimes he felt as if he was really connecting to the vibrant woman hiding behind the mask of conformable queen and wife. He glimpsed something in her velvety eyes that hinted she was there—the woman he’d once believed her to be. But then, after sex, the barriers came up like steel barricades. Shutting him out.
Karim wasn’t emotionally needy. He hadn’t been since he was a child and his mother had abandoned him to the mercy of a tyrant. He’d made himself self-sufficient in every way. So it wasn’t for his own sake that he wanted to break down the wall between him and Safiyah. It was so they could create a sound footing for a future together, to bring up Tarek and any future children.
His groin tightened and his pulse skipped faster at the idea of fathering Safiyah’s children. He’d been semi-aroused all morning, despite the hours dealing with budget papers and plans for law reform. The sea breeze through the window reminded him of their race down the beach that first night here—that fever of need as he’d stripped Safiyah and given her a first taste of rapture.
Karim closed his eyes as a shudder ran through him. Hunger and longing. And regret. Because after the triumphant sex and that incredible sense of closeness she’d said coldly that it was best if they were strangers.
It was what he’d visualised when he’d first imagined this marriage. Keeping her at a distance, using her to secure his standing in this new country and for personal pleasure—not least the satisfaction of having at his mercy the woman who’d spurned him.
But from the start he’d wanted more.
Frowning, Karim shut down his computer and stood, rolling his shoulders.
He’d erred in pushing her for details about Abbas that night in bed. They’d both been exhausted after a sexual marathon that had left them off balance. Yet Karim had been driven by an urgency to establish control over circumstances that had suddenly seemed more complex and fraught than he’d anticipated.
He’d expected great sex, given the constant shimmer of attraction between them. Yet he hadn’t expected tofeelso much when he finally bedded Safiyah. It had been as if the years had peeled away and he still believed she was the one woman for him. As if her happiness was important to him.
His glance strayed to the brilliant blue sky outside the window. It was their last afternoon at the small summer palace. His plans for today would surely help him break down Safiyah’s defences.
‘A picnic lunch?’
Safiyah met Karim’s glinting eyes. His brows slanted up at her surprise, giving him a saturnine appearance that was both goading and sexy.
It was appalling the way such a little thing made her knees weaken and her insides liquefy. At breakfast today she’d been reduced to wordless yearning just by the crook of Karim’s mouth in the hint of a smile.
That half-smile had reminded her of last night, when Karim had teased her mercilessly with his mouth and hands till she’d begged for him to take her. Last night there’d been something in his expression, too. Something she couldn’t name and didn’t want to, for she feared she’d make a fool of herself, imagining tender emotions when he had none.
She was his convenient bride. Nothing more.