Seduced by the Sultan(65)

                ‘There was no need to resort to such methods. Though I can’t deny that I would have employed them if necessary,’ he said, with a smile obviously designed to make her melt. ‘In fact, he seemed rather captivated by the love-story aspect of my request.’

                ‘But there is no love story!’ She walked over to the other side of the tent, because his proximity was making it difficult for her to breathe. ‘Your “love” is currently on ice—just waiting for Princess Lucky to waltz in and melt it.’

                For a moment he said nothing, just let his gaze travel over her very slowly as if he’d never really seen her properly before.

                ‘Oh, Cat,’ he said softly. ‘You are magnificent.’

                ‘No, Murat, you’re the one who’s supposed to be magnificent, not me. And...’ Some of her bravado was leaving her now. Suddenly she was feeling very alone—and scared. Scared of the way he could make her feel and scared of how much more he could hurt her. And she couldn’t afford to let him hurt her, not any more. Because she was strong Cat, not weak Cat. She was Cat who didn’t cry and yet these stupid tears were pricking away at the backs of her eyes. ‘It’s a cheap trick to bring me out here into the middle of nowhere, where I’m effectively at your mercy.’

                He said nothing, just walked across the room and took her hand, bringing her fingertips to his mouth and leaving them there, so that when he spoke she could feel the warmth of his breath against her skin. And Catrin was appalled to discover that she wasn’t pulling away. That she was just standing there and letting him touch her.

                ‘And is it a cheap trick to ask you to be my bride, Cat?’ he questioned. ‘To be my Sultana and help me rule over the people of Qurhah for as long as we both shall live?’

                Snatching her hand away, she moved away from him again—as if they were both participants in some old-fashioned dance. ‘Do you get some kind of kick out of tormenting me?’ she gritted. ‘When we both know that I can’t be your bride.’

                ‘Oh, but you can,’ he argued and he was coming towards her once again. Like some persistent wave you saw at the edge of the ocean, he just kept on coming. ‘Sweet habibti of mine—you can. I wouldn’t dream of asking you something as important as this, unless it was possible.’

                His shadow loomed over her and she stared up into those night-dark eyes, searching for some sign that he was tricking her. Because she couldn’t risk believing him. She couldn’t risk having all her hopes raised heavenwards and then smashed down again.

                ‘How is it possible?’ She crossed her arms over her breasts. ‘How?’

                ‘I spoke to my brother-in-law, Gabe, who is one of the few men I trust. He knew of my dilemma. That I loved you but that my hands were tied. Because how could the Sultan possibly break the law of his own land? I told him about the things you’d said. Things which I’d previously refused to think about, only now I had a reason to think about them very seriously. About modern countries needing to move with the times. And Gabe agreed. He said that it was archaic and unrealistic to expect a law which had been written centuries ago to apply to a modern sultan in a modern age.

                ‘So I had my attorney general redraft the constitution,’ he continued. ‘It just took it a little time before it all became official. It was rubber-stamped yesterday. And that’s why I have brought you here, Cat. To tell you that I have had the law changed in order to marry you. But also to tell you something else, other than the fact I love you very much.’ He sucked in a deep breath. ‘And that is you have made me more of a man than I thought it was possible to be. You have made me feel things, my beauty. Things that sometimes make me feel almost scared but which at other times fill me with the kind of joy I didn’t believe existed. Most of all, they make me feel alive.’