But she didn’t care. Didn’t care that she wasn’t useful. Didn’t care if she was underfoot. Didn’t care to make herself indispensable so that someone might deign to care that she was around.
She loved Tarek. No matter what he did. No matter what he said to her, no matter how useful he was.
Didn’t she deserve the same?
She felt she did.
Too bad most of her wanted to get back on a plane and beg Tarek to take her back, whether he ever loved her or not. There was a very large part of her that felt pride was overrated in this situation.
It isn’t about pride. Pride is nothing. It’s about wanting to live.
She knew what life was without love. She’d spent her entire life closed off to it. Desperately wanting it, and denying herself because she was so afraid that others would hold it back from her. Now that she had truly felt it, she didn’t want to go back. She couldn’t.
There was a sharp knock on her bedroom door, and she peeled herself off her bed, smoothing her hands over her hair. “Yes?”
“My queen.” She heard her lady’s maid Eloise on the other side of the door. “There is a man here to see you. He says...he says he’s your husband.”
Her heart stopped, everything in her freezing.
“That’s impossible,” she said.
That was when Tarek chose to stride into the room. It had been only two days since she’d seen him. But she felt very much—and she knew it was desperately corny—as if he was an oasis in the middle of her emotional desert. The first sight of water and shade she’d had in a long crawl across burning sand.
He was so tall, impossibly strong and broad. His face so beautiful. The sharp, defining angles, those lips that could be both soft and commanding depending on how he chose to wield them.
He was a powerful enemy to those who opposed him, wonderful with the sword, she was certain. But as far as she was concerned, his body and all that he could make her feel with it was his most powerful weapon.
“I did not tell you that you could come in yet,” Eloise said, clearly full of pique.
“I did not ask. I am the Sheikh of Tahar, and I am Sheikha Olivia al-Khalij’s husband. It is my right to see her. More than that, it is my due.”
Olivia shivered, her new title, her new last name, somehow erotic and intensely affecting on his lips. “It’s okay, Eloise. Leave us.”
Eloise very clearly didn’t think it was okay. However, she obeyed Olivia’s command.
“I have never been on a plane before. I can’t say I enjoyed it,” Tarek said.
“Flying is terrible. I hate it. Why are you here?”
“I came here to get you, you foolish woman.”
Her heart scampered up into her throat. “I told you. I can’t live with you in a one-sided relationship. I just can’t. For so many reasons.”
“You said you needed to be loved.”
Her throat tightened around her heart, strangling her. “I do. I hate to try to explain what it was like to be married to Marcus. Because in many ways I hate to compare the two of you, because you’re so different. Because what I feel for you is so different. Also, Marcus is dead and I can ask no more of him. He didn’t do anything wrong. He didn’t disappoint me. He didn’t deny me. But I didn’t love him. Not like I love you. It was easy to be with him. We never had to know each other. Neither of us were interested in sharing or being shared with. It gave me companionship without having to make myself vulnerable. Without putting my feelings in any danger. Which you... I can’t do that with you. I want all of you. I want to open myself up and make you understand me. I want you to open yourself up to me. You make me so unbearably aware of how isolated I’ve been. And now that I know, I can’t go back to that.”
He closed the distance between them, cupping her cheek, his dark eyes blazing into hers. “I cannot go back. I can’t go back, either, nor do I want to. I was so alone. I stripped away every desire. Every emotion. Because I so desperately didn’t want to remember. I so desperately didn’t want to feel pain.” He laced his fingers through her hair, his eyes never leaving hers. “We are so much the same, Olivia. And when you first walked into my throne room I never would have thought so. But we were both protecting ourselves. I tried to protect myself to the end. I blamed love, because somehow I understood it had the power to devastate the most. It was easy to focus in on my torture, on the pain. On all the hate. Because then I could pretend it was the most painful part of what I had been through. It wasn’t. It was the loss of my parents. The loss of their love. And I wouldn’t even let myself remember it, because I wanted nothing to do with the pain. And so I rid myself of every emotion. I focused solely on my goal. So that I could survive.” He shook his head. “And then you came. You made me desire. You made me want. You did exactly what you’ve accused me of doing to you. You opened me up. Demolished the walls. And I was frightened. But after you left I realized that love was never the enemy. Yes, it hurts. It has the power to devastate. I was devastated by the loss of you.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “I remembered my parents. Remembered words my father said to me. That hurt, too. But there was so much good in it. I realize now that you can’t have the good things without the pain. I was all right with that for a long time. But I’m not now.”