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His Defiant Desert Queen(49)



                “She’ll be horrified.”

                He didn’t seem to like that. “Why?”

                “Because our cultures are too different and she’d be worried that I’d be trapped in a life where I couldn’t be myself, and the lack of freedom would make me desperately unhappy.”

                “That’s quite specific.”

                “Morgan’s short, unhappy marriage made quite an impression on all of us.”

                “And yet the day of her wedding she seemed ecstatic.”

                “Exactly. But Morgan was so infatuated with Drakon that she didn’t ask any hard questions about what her life would be like in Athens, and their marriage was a shock for her. She ended up bitterly unhappy as a new bride in a new city and their relationship quickly fell apart.” Jemma smoothed a wrinkle from her satin skirt. “Mother had warned her that life in Greece, as the wife of a Greek shipping tycoon wouldn’t be easy, not for an independent American girl who is accustomed to making decisions for herself. And so I’m quite sure my mother would be even more upset if I turned around and married a Saidia sheikh.”

                Mikael said nothing for a long moment. “Even if it improves your situation?”

                It was Jemma’s turn to fall silent.

                “I’m aware your brother is the only Copeland who has any financial assets left,” Mikael added. “And the only reason he does, is because he lives in Europe, and his assets couldn’t be seized, but your government will go after him. What he hasn’t yet lost due to scandal, will soon be taken by your government.”

                “Maybe it won’t happen,” she said, not really believing it herself.

                He gave her a skeptical look. “Isn’t that the same thing you said about your mother’s home? And didn’t the government just take that?”

                Jemma drew a short breath. It had been one thing losing the house on St. Bart’s and the lodge in Sun Valley, but it was painful losing one’s childhood home. Jemma had lived in the Greenwich house from the time she was six until she’d left for London. And maybe she didn’t live at home any longer, but it was still her home. It was where she liked to picture her mother, where they all came together to celebrate Christmas or a special occasion.

                The government shouldn’t have taken the house a month ago. It was her mother’s, from the divorce. But apparently her father’s name was on the title, too, and that was all they needed to seize it.

                “It’s not been easy for my mother, no,” Jemma said roughly, unable to look at him, the pain fresh and sharp all over again. “But she’s lucky she has a few friends who have stood by her. She’s relying on their kindness now.”

                Jemma didn’t tell the entire truth.

                Yes, a few friends had stood by her mother. But the rest had dropped her. The majority had dropped her. Just like most of Jemma’s friends had disappeared, too. It happened to her sisters as well. She had no idea if her brother, Branson, was abandoned. He’d never talked about it, even though he, too, lived in London. But then, Branson never revealed anything personal. He’d always been private and self-contained, so self-contained, that Jemma hadn’t been comfortable going to her brother this year and asking for help, or a loan, or even a friendly ear. Instead she’d struggled to handle it all—the shame from her father’s duplicity, and the pain of being rejected by the man she loved more than life itself.

                She felt Mikael’s fingers on her cheek. She stiffened and drew back, then realized he’d touched her because he was wiping away tears. Her tears.