Perfect? Nowhere near.
‘Aren’t you taking a lot for granted?’ She had to say something. She could not just let him steamroller her into this—not when it was for the wrong reasons. ‘You seem to assume I’d be happy to marry you.’
He frowned. ‘Would it be such a chore…?’ He ran his hand down her side, a featherlight touch all the way from her shoulder to one knee that made her quiver. ‘Putting up with me every night?’
‘But it’s not just about sex, surely?’
And his eyes took on a glacial hue, as if he was annoyed she was not falling in easily with his ever so sensible plan. ‘Who was it who came up with that condition, Sera? Who was it who led the Marrashis to believe there would be a wedding and that it would be mine? Who had those women believing that you would be that bride?’
She swallowed and looked away. ‘I didn’t tell them that—’
‘You might as well have, because that’s what they expect. You owe me, Sera. Marry me. It’s the least you can do. Say yes, before I am forced to command you.’
He was serious. He was actually serious. The concept of merely living together was forgotten. Now he was demanding she marry him as if he was calling in a debt. She swallowed down on her disappointment.
Maybe it wasn’t all bad. Okay, so he might not love her—she could hardly expect that from a man who had so recently expressed his hatred of her—but he did want her. Of that she had no doubt. Could she settle for marriage with Rafiq, bearing his children, loving him, even knowing he didn’t love her?
And she looked up into the waiting eyes, the beautiful blue eyes in the beautiful chiselled face of the man who had a place in her heart and her soul for ever, whether or not he loved her, now or ever, and she knew her answer.
‘You don’t have to command me. I’ll do it. I’ll marry you.’
Coronation morning dawned bright and beautiful. Rafiq knew this because he’d been awake and had watched the silvery-grey morning light spear through the drapes and turn Sera’s gold-tinged skin to satin. He’d lain there, watching her sleep on a pillow of her own black hair, the curve of her long lashes resting on her cheek, her lush mouth an invitation, her lips, slightly parted.
When would he get sick of looking at her? When would he get sick of making love to her? Never, if the hunger he felt for her even now was any indication. Never, if she remained so responsive to his touch.
Sleep had confirmed last night’s brainwave. Marriage would solve everything. Sera would be safe away from here. She would be free from the ghosts of her past, able to make a new future.
But most of all she would be his.
And nothing and nobody was ever going to steal her away from him again.
He pressed his lips to hers, unable to resist their silent invitation any longer, and she stirred and stretched into sleepy wakefulness so deliciously that he could not resist kissing her again, finally groaning as he pulled away, knowing there was no time for them to make love this morning.
‘I’m having breakfast with Kareef before the coronation, and from there we’ll go to the ceremony together. I will have Akmal assign you a seat next to mine, and I will join you there after the official entrance.’
Sleep slid from her eyes like a coverlet slipping from a bed, exposing emotion so naked he almost flinched. ‘But I wasn’t planning on going to the coronation.’
He sat back. ‘Of course you are. It’s Kareef’s coronation. Why wouldn’t you be there?’
She was shaking her head, clutching her bedclothes in front of her like a shield. ‘There’s no need. Or…I can stand at the back. Because you’ll be right up at the front with your family. I don’t need—’
He took her shrouded hands in his. ‘Sera, what’s wrong?’
‘There’s just no point. I don’t need to be there, to take someone else’s seat.’
‘Sera, Cerak will not be there. She cannot hurt you now. She has been banished.’
But still Sera’s eyes looked panicked and turbulent. ‘I will go with you to Australia. Didn’t I agree to that? I’ll go today, if necessary. Oh, Rafiq,’ she said, clutching at his shoulder, ‘could we not go today? Why not leave right after the ceremony? Just slip away in all the commotion? Your plane is still here. It would be easy.’
His patience was wearing thin. Last night she’d made it seem as if marrying him would be some kind of imposition, and now she was suggesting they leave today—before the crown was barely warm on Kareef’s head, before the event he’d specifically flown all the way from Australia to attend had barely concluded?