Squeezing her eyes in contrition, she groaned, “I guess I got a bit paranoid.”
He frowned. “Were you worried that your trust in me was unsubstantiated, and I’d do something against your will once I got you here?”
She shook her head vigorously, needing him to know this was something she’d never suspect. “Not that. I just worried you’d change your...attitude.”
“Like men usually do, once they think they’ve gotten their objectives and no longer need to hide their nasty natures and double-standard convictions?”
From the way his gorgeous lips thinned, she knew if such men crossed his path, they’d regret it for life. He did have that protector/punisher vibe going.
She wished he’d let this go but knew he wouldn’t. This man needed to know everything, to have a tight handle on every situation. He’d probe until she spilled everything that had crossed her mind in those moments of unease.
She sighed. “Men are like that to one degree or another in my experience, but mainly men from my region, yes.”
One dauntingly arched eyebrow rose. “Are all men chauvinists there?”
“Double standards are the general stance, perpetrated by women even more than men. Anyone, especially a woman, who dares flaunt cultural rules and restrictions becomes stigmatized, no matter how modern everyone looks on the surface.”
“Why did you fear I’d be like them? I was born in your region, but I was not raised there.”
“Indoctrination happens at a very early age. It takes very progressive families and especially mothers not to imprint their children with the worst of the culture. In general, men there are raised to have very cruel opinions of women whom they perceive as ‘loose.’”
“And you thought my early programming would resurface, and I’d judge you for coming up here with me?”
“It was a passing thought, okay? An ingrained reaction that really has nothing to do with you.”
“But it wasn’t ingrained in you because of the general state of affairs in your homeland. It was out of personal experience, wasn’t it?”
She’d been right. He wouldn’t rest until he had the whole truth. She sighed again. “How much do you know about me? You clearly investigated me before crashing the reception.”
He guided her to the nearest couch, pulled her down on it with him. “Investigations provide only broad lines that can be interpreted in different ways that can all turn out to be wrong. You tell me what’s accurate.”
Shuddering as his power and warmth encompassed her, she leaned against the dark brown velvet couch. She hoped she didn’t look as swooning as she felt as she gazed up at him.
“I am the very definition of loose in my region. From leaving my family at eighteen to live in another country, to supporting myself ever since, to making success and autonomy my life goal, to being a divorcée who hasn’t returned home in penance, seeking the shelter of her family and the forgiveness of society, I’m the cautionary tale mothers tell their little daughters. Anything bad that ever befell me is advertised as punishment for my sins.”
His expression hardened with her every word, until his face seemed to be hewn from granite. “Everything you just mentioned, everything you achieved and are, makes you only enterprising and powerful, a role model all women in and out of your region should aspire to emulate.”
She let loose an incredulous laugh. At his imperiously questioning look she explained, “It’s just funny to hear you say what my baby sisters always do. But they are incapable of being impartial when it comes to me.”
“I’m totally partial when it comes to you. I also happen to be absolutely right.”
She again barely stopped herself from doing something impulsive. That was, more so than coming up to this suite. Something like throwing herself against his massive chest and smothering him in kisses. Which she might end up doing soon. Exposure to him was chipping away at any control she had left.
Watching her with that intensity that compromised her will, he said, “Your sisters are astute young ladies for making you their role model. You’re the perfect one.”
She waved his words away. “Let’s not exaggerate, okay? I’d just die if they followed in some of my footsteps.”
“Why? You’re not proud of your achievements?”
“Those I’m proud of. I’m not proud of my mistakes.”
“What are those? A failed, short-lived marriage? You think that disqualifies you as an inspiration?”
“Catastrophic choices certainly do. In my bid for freedom and independence, I made more than one. Like marrying the first man who seemed to be the opposite of the chauvinistic men I was used to, and finding out very soon he had equally objectionable traits, only on the other side of the spectrum. But whether I deserved it or not, I was their role model, and I strove to fill my position. The one thing I mourned most about being forced to marry Hassan was that I could no longer be that to them.”