The Sheikh’s Disobedient Bride(34)

She sighed, rubbed her neck, stretched a little. Her head hurt, filled with strange pain and she’d thought it was tension, but wasn’t so sure anymore. “I went to Bellevue City College.” She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry, her tongue feeling thick, numb at the tip. “Took courses there and then went to work.”



“I’ve heard of Bellevue. Home of Microsoft, and Bill Gates, yes?”



“More or less.” She closed her eyes, woozy. Tally drew a deep breath and then another. Maybe it was just remembering the past that made her nauseous. Maybe it was the hurt that lingered all these years later.



Why tell him the truth about her past? Why did he need to know her real world? There was no reason he should have all the details.



She swallowed with difficulty, her throat thickening. Wouldn’t it be better to just pretend she was someone she wasn’t? Wouldn’t it make more sense to go with the rich and fashionably chic world of Bellevue instead of the damp misty town at the base of the Cascade mountain range? Pretend she shopped at Bellevue Square instead of North Bend’s outlet stores? Pretend she had money to spend in the first place…?



“You didn’t play sports?” Tair asked, persisting with his line of questioning.



His voice seemed to come from far away. She looked at him, forced herself to focus. “No. Not really.” Her forehead furrowed as she looked at a spot on the low table between them. “Well, I did, in high school. Volleyball.” She suddenly smiled, a wry remembrance. She’d been good, too. Really good. Not the tallest, but dang, she’d been fast, and aggressive. Tally had gone after every ball…



“I used to love volleyball. And softball. But volleyball was my sport.” Her head cocked and she seemed to be looking back, listening to voices in the past and her smile faded. “I used to spend hours working with my sister Mandy.” She hesitated, choosing her words more slowly. “I was glad Mandy got the scholarship. Mandy was good. At least one of us got a chance to go to college. Play in college, and not just any school, but a good school. A big name school.



Tair’s dark eyes rested on her face, his expression perfectly blank. “But you were good, too.”



Tally briefly nodded. She nearly smiled but it was too much effort. “Yes.”



“Why didn’t you get a scholarship then?”



She looked off to the side again, looking back to a past that had been more pain than pleasure. “I was the oldest.”



“And?”



“Needed at home.”



Tair’s black eyebrows pulled. “So you were awarded a scholarship?”



To UCLA. A great school with a great program. And she couldn’t go, couldn’t take it. “My parents—” She broke off, swallowed, shoulders shifting in that same uneasy shrug. If only she felt better. If only her head didn’t hurt so. “Dad—” She broke off, tried again, “Dad wasn’t well and Mom was working full-time. Someone had to watch the younger ones.”



“And that someone was you.”



It took Tally a long moment to speak. “The oldest.”



“And a girl.”



Her tight, pained smile grew even tighter, more painful. “I guess being a girl has its drawbacks in every culture.”



So that was it, Tair thought, leaning back, absorbing the revelation. This wasn’t just about him and her—this was bigger, greater. This was about gender. Identity. Discrimination.



Tally leaned forward against the table. She felt increasingly woozy and weak.



Something was wrong.



Her head swam and her stomach cramped. Her insides felt as though boiling oil had been poured through her. Pain filled her, wrenching her insides, surging through her veins. She nearly crumpled forward, her hand knocking her bowl aside.



“Woman,” Tair said.



She could barely focus, unable to get beyond the fire twisting her insides into two. But his voice was strong, commanding.



Tally looked at Tair, stricken, bewildered. Something was very wrong. Something she’d eaten. Drunk.



“Tally?”



There were two of him. Now three. She blinked, eyes heavy, hot with pain, the same fire consuming her belly. “What have you done?” she choked, before slipping sideways to the floor.



CHAPTER SEVEN



TAIRdidn’t waste any time sending for a doctor. This wasn’t ordinary food poisoning. It was deliberate, and whatever had been slipped into Tally’s food—or drink—could be fatal, toxic.



Tair did what he could until the doctor arrived. He followed the simple universal antidote his mother had used with them: two parts wood charcoal, one part magnesia milk and one part of very strong tea. He gave her two tablespoons of the mixture in a little bit of water. He didn’t know what she’d ingested, but knew that if the poison was metallic or alkaline, the tannic acid in the tea would neutralize it. If the poison was acid, the magnesia would neutralize it. And the wood charcoal even in a very little dose can absorb strong quantities of toxin.