Without her make-up he could see purple smudges beneath her eyes and her naturally long black eye lashes. She had a heart-shaped face. Clear green eyes. Full pink lips.
The same pink as her nipples.
His body hardened, remembering her earlier, modeling, and naked beneath the fur coat.
She had an incredible body.
He would enjoy her body. But he’d never like her. Never admire her. She wasn’t a woman he wanted for anything beyond sex and pleasure.
He pictured her naked again. He’d certainly find pleasure in her curves and breasts and that private place between her legs.
“So it’s house arrest,” Jemma said. “Seven years. Would the sentence start tonight? Tomorrow?”
“I haven’t made up my mind,” he answered.
Her green eyes widened. Her lips parted and for a moment no sound came out and then she shook her head, a frantic shake that left no doubt as to her feelings. “I will not marry you. I will not!”
“It’s not up to you. It’s my choice.”
“You can’t force me.”
“I can.” And silently he added, I could.
Just like that, the idea took root.
He could marry her. He could force her to his will. He could avenge his mother’s shame. He could exact revenge.
For a moment there was just silence. It was thick and heavy and he imagined she must hate it. She must find the silence stifling because she was completely powerless. She had no say. He would decide her fate. She would have to accept whatever he chose for her.
He found the thought pleasing.
He liked knowing that whatever he chose, she would have to submit.
She with the lovely eyes and soft lips and full, pink tipped breasts.
“But you do not wish to marry me,” she whispered. “You hate me. You wouldn’t be able to look at me or touch me.”
“I could touch you,” he corrected. “And I could look at you. But I wouldn’t love you, no.”
“Don’t do that to me. Don’t use me.”
“Why not? Your father used my mother to bring shame on my family name.”
“I’m not my father and you’re not your mother and we both deserve better. We both deserve good marriages, proper marriages, marriages based on love and respect.”
“That sounds quite nice except for the fact that I don’t love. I won’t take a wife out of love. I will take her out of duty. I will marry as it is my responsibility. A king must have heirs.”
“But I want love. And by forcing me to marry you, you deprive me of love.”
“Your father deprived my mother of life. I’m Arabic. A life for a life. A woman for a woman. He took her. I should take you.”
“No.”
“Saidia requires a prince. You’d give me beautiful children.”