“Then do it,” she challenged, not exactly understanding the energy that washed over her but willing to let it take the lead. Perhaps it was pregnancy.
Or perhaps it was that she was tired of being dictated to by tyrannical men.
Whatever it was, Rita had reached her limit as far as being pushed around went.
He could listen to her dictate things for a change. “You can drag me kicking and screaming and leave me here and no one will be the wiser. But you and I will know, and neither of us will forget the wrong you were willing to commit against me because of your own fear and pride. This single action will fester between us until our relationship deteriorates because you know it’s wrong.”
“Fear and pride? You think this is about fear and pride? You think it was fear and pride that led me to drive you all the way out here? To share one of my family’s oldest secrets with you? To do everything in my power to keep you happy and safe and satisfied? Look around you, Rita. I’m doing all of this because I love you.” He hadn’t raised his voice, not truly, but shouted the last, nonetheless.
Rita’s eyes widened, her head shaking back and forth in denial.
“It’s true, Rita. I love you. It all ended for me the night in the ruins. Before that. When you stood up to my father at the finale and I realized that you weren’t merely the ideal woman for my aims, but the ideal woman for me. You shine as my partner, my queen and already as the mother of my children. You’re everything I will ever want. I must know that you and the babies are safe from my father. It’s not forever, Rita. Just until I’ve taken care of my father. I just need this peace of mind. If you can’t do it for the babies, if you can’t believe me about my father, do it for me. I love you, Rita.”
He said it a second time, his voice lighter, as if he felt better in the telling, while Rita stared at him in horror, mouthing the wordno.
“No,” she finally voiced, when sound came through her throat. “No,” she repeated. “No, Jag. No. No. No. Don’t do this. Don’t ask this of me. Don’t make my family contingent on bending to your will. Don’t tell me you love me while you’re demanding I sacrifice myself to your needs. Don’t you do this to me, too, Jag. I thought you were different.”
Color draining from his face, Jag raised his palms as if to stop her from going on, from taking the train of thought any further, but it was too late.
“Don’t be my father, Jag,” she begged, adding, “Don’t be yours.”
Fire flashed through his eyes, but Rita didn’t look away. She’d meant every word she said. If he left her here, right now, she would never forgive him.
“Rita, that’s not what I meant...” he began, but she shook her head. There was only one thing she wanted to hear from him, and it wasn’t excuses.
It was that they were going back to Hayat City.
She had a right to stand up for herself; facing off with her husband in the desert, she realized the truth of that.
She had always had a right to stand up for herself. With Jag, and with her father, so long ago.
She wasn’t the one who had been in the wrong all those years ago—her father had been. She had been young and willful, but Jag had been right. She had also been a loyal testament to her family. The transgression of staying true to the passion that had taken her so far was not one that was worthy of losing her family.
Just as the transgression of being pregnant with twins was not worthy of twiddling her thumbs in the far reaches of the desert. She was healthy and strong and would stay that way only if she had the space and freedom to keep both mind and body occupied. She needed her workdays in her garage and her dinners and nights with Jag.
She didn’t need to be hidden away in a desert tower—no matter how beautiful an oasis it was.
Like Jag was now, her father had overreacted and overreached. Back then, she had been too young to do anything about it.
Today, she was a grown woman carrying twins.
Jag blinked and looked away.
Staring around him at the astounding architecture of the Jana palace, he cleared his throat. Then he got back into the van.
Rita didn’t crow in triumph, because there was no triumph in learning that her husband was not above using the same techniques as her father, but she took comfort in the fact that at the very least, this time she hadn’t stood for it.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
JAGDROVEBACKto Hayat City with Rita in tow because she was right.
He could have easily left her there, confident in her safety and security, and in doing so, would have become just like her father, demanding she bend in the name of his love.
He could not believe he had confessed to her as he had done. The frantic moments between acknowledging it himself and throwing it at her the way he had was matched only by the poor quality of his delivery.
And yet avoiding that slippery slope brought Jag no closer to a solution regarding what to do to keep Rita safe from the man.
It had only left him outside her good graces.