The Sheikh’s Disobedient Bride(54)
Color surged to her cheeks as she remembered their passionate night together. Sex with him had been so intense, so explosive. “It was a mistake. A moment’s madness.”
“A moment’s madness,” he repeated thoughtfully.
“Yes. And we can’t marry. I won’t get married, not in these circumstances, not when we have so many differences.”
“Which are?”
“Everything.”
“Name one.”
“Religion,” she said, holding up a finger.
“Name two.”
“Politics.”
“Name three.”
“Disparities about gender and culture.”
He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing, jaw jutting. “So that’s it?” he asked, chin lifting and in the sunlight she could see the bristles of his beard, the gleaming texture of his golden skin, the lines at his mouth and she had to fight the impulse to lean forward and kiss that mouth. Her mouth. Her man. She clenched her hands in her lap, sick at heart.
She wanted him to say the words she needed, wanted him to give her the tenderness she craved. She needed him to love her. Love her.
Tally left the table, exhaled in a rush as she crossed the small patio with its pots of jasmine and citrus. The air smelled like perfume and sunlight patterned the creamy stone pavers in shades of silver and gold.
Tair’s voice followed. “This is not Seattle or Bellevue or wherever you’re from. This is the desert, a different world with different laws and rules. You are mine to protect, and I will protect you, whether you want it or not.”
Tally turned and took a furious, frustrated step in his direction. “You can’t make me do this—”
“I can. I can even say the vows for you, make the promises. You don’t even have to come to the ceremony—although it’d be nice to see you there tomorrow—and we’d still be joined as husband and wife.”
“As your property.”
“Let’s just use the word wife.”
Tally shook her head frantically. She knew he was being deliberately provocative, baiting her, tormenting her. She knew he was angry with her less than enthusiastic welcome but she wasn’t going to bend and she wouldn’t break. “It appalls me that you would force me to marry you. It appalls me that you’d be so barbaric and heartless.”
“You’re not that appalled. You know me well enough now to know that I don’t say one thing and do another. If I say I’ve claimed you, I’ve claimed you and twenty-four hours apart, or seventy-two, wouldn’t change anything. You are mine and tomorrow we make it legal.”
He could fix this. He could make this right, or at least make it better. He knew how to soothe her, comfort. But he wouldn’t. He’d be a brute. He’d be insensitive and unfeeling. “I won’t marry you out of duty. If I married you, it’d only be out of love.”
“And you don’t love me.”
Her eyes burned, her heart on fire. Did he love her? Did he feel that way for her? Was he taking her out of pride? To prove a point? To show that he’d conquered her?
“No, I don’t,” she choked, eyes gritty, throat sore as she tried to swallow around the lump filling it, blocking air.
Expression dark, dangerous, lethal, Tair rose from his chair. “Your right hand says you do love me.”
“My right hand has been hennaed by a gaggle of giggling older women. My right hand knows not what it says—”
“I think it does.”
“Well I know it does not.”
He shrugged, supremely indifferent. “Then perhaps you could tell your right hand—along with your heart—that maybe it should learn to like me, if not love me, as we’re about to have forever together.”
“Forever.”
“Eternity.”
“I get the concept,” she snapped, glaring at him, her pulse racing far too fast for her own good. With her heart thumping this hard she couldn’t think straight, couldn’t get control of her emotions, couldn’t find the right words to argue. But she knew she must. She knew she couldn’t let this happen, knew that if Tair said he intended to marry her tomorrow then he intended to marry her tomorrow. Even his jests were true. Everything he said, he did. Which so did not bode well.
Not for the future. Much less now.
Be logical, she ordered herself now. Say something intelligent, something that makes sense.
“Why me?” she cried, settling on the most obvious argument. “I don’t like you, you don’t like me, we’re completely different culturally. Our values clash, our interests don’t align. Why not marry a woman who wants to be with you instead of one determined to keep running away?”