Richard’s lips twisted as he returned his antipathy, just with his usual sarcasm. “I should have known you came from such a land, where vendettas are inherited and cherished as the source of honor and glory. You can’t help what you are, it seems. It’s in your genes.”
Usually, he engaged Richard in the rituals of their ongoing cold war. But Numair couldn’t afford to do that now. Not when that damned snake had something he needed.
Knowing that, and determined to make the most of Numair’s inability to react as he wished to, Richard smiled like the serpent he was.
Pushing the jacket of his handmade sand-colored suit out of the way, he shoved one hand into his pants’ pocket, with the other one still holding the briefcase he was here to deliver. Without attempting to give it to him, he looked around like someone assessing a pawned property he’d come to acquire in lieu of an unpaid debt.
“So I see you installed yourself in a setting appropriate to your future lofty status, until you take over Saraya’s royal palace.” Richard gave him a baiting glance, one of the staple methods of interaction between them. “You even acquired yourself a local princess.”
Numair bristled but forced himself not to flay Richard alive. He wanted that briefcase with a minimum of fuss.
Obviously, Richard had other plans, as his goading intensified. “At first I thought you were stringing her along to spoil Hassan’s marriage plans. I thought you’d asked me for help with the release of Zafrana’s financial assets to deprive him of his power over Zafrana, to contribute to crippling him before you struck him down. But then you continued carrying on with her, and I realized your actions have all been directed to making her and her father indebted to you, and dependent on you. You don’t only want Saraya’s throne, you want Zafrana’s, too. And she’s your ticket to it.”
This made Numair relinquish any thoughts of restraint.
He grabbed Richard’s arm with a force that had broken lesser men’s arms. “Keep your realizations and theories to yourself, Cobra, and don’t even think of Jenan again.”
Richard’s eyes widened, with surprise not pain, the caustic derision disappearing from his expression, contemplative scrutiny descending in its place.
Then he grimaced. “By God, not you, too, Phantom.”
Numair knew exactly what Richard meant. Two of Numair’s brothers had already succumbed to what they’d all previously considered an ailment none of them was susceptible to. Love. Rafael had married the daughter of the man he’d thought had sold him to The Organization, and Raiden had married the woman who’d once been sent by his former handler to expose him.
But if there was anyone they’d all thought was 100 percent impervious to any emotions, let alone love, it was Numair. And his current companion, of course.
Richard said exactly that. “Besides me, you’re the literal last man on earth I expected to fall in love.”
If Richard expected him to deny it, to consider it a weakness he wouldn’t admit to anyone, most of all to his lifelong nemesis, he had another think coming. The moment he could, he’d shout it from the rooftops if need be. He’d made his peace with the life-changing realization.
He had fallen in love with Jenan.
But even that statement wasn’t accurate. He’d far more than fallen in love with her. He felt as if she’d become an extension of his being, the most vital part that he’d perish without. Dependence on someone else had been unimaginable before; absolute self-sufficiency had been the basic fact on which he’d built his whole life. Even the brothers, who were integral to his life and self, he’d depended on for survival and practical matters, never emotionally. He’d never felt he’d die if he lost them. He felt that about her, and more. He could live only with her.
This profound dependence had started from their first meeting. Right then his fundamental being had recognized hers as the only one to mesh with it, to complete his missing parts. The feeling had taken root during the night he’d first claimed her, as she’d claimed him right back. Every day since, those roots had been growing deeper, becoming entangled, encompassing everything inside him.
Their intimacy, in and out of bed, had been growing exponentially, and she’d been totally open about what he made her feel. But she hadn’t made a straight declaration of her love. He hadn’t, either, but he had been calling her “my love” and “my heart” and “my soul” and meaning every word. She hadn’t reciprocated.
But just before Richard arrived, something terrible had occurred to him. He couldn’t believe it hadn’t before. Being with her did tamper with his every mental function.