The Sheikh’s Disobedient Bride(59)
“Of course, Madame.” Leena looked at her uncertainly. “But why wouldn’t he?”
“I’m just going to have a word with my husband the Sheikh.”
“And your husband is here.” Tair gestured to Leena that she should go. He waited for the door to close. “What do you need to speak to me about?”
Tally sat on the bed and looked up at her husband, a man that towered over other men, a man with huge shoulders and a chiseled jaw and a stomach that was nothing but a ripple of hard, carved muscle.
This man was her husband. This man. Asheikh. And so what did that make her?
She stared at him so long and hard it hurt. If she was Tair’s woman what did it make her? And then it hit her.
She was the Sheikh’s captive bride.
Tally nearly smiled at the wretched state of affairs. One day into her marriage and she was already lost. How on earth was this going to work?
“What did you want to ask me, Woman?” Tair’s deep voice cut through her fog of misery.
She chewed on her inner lip trying to think of a way to ask him about what Leena had told her without divulging that it was Leena who had told her. Tally didn’t want Leena punished for gossiping. And maybe it was only gossip. Maybe Leena didn’t really know the truth…maybe it wasn’t the way it seemed…
“You’ve had other women here, at Bur Juman.” Tally’s gaze searched his autocratic face with its regal brow and nose and the jaw that could only belong to a man like Tair. Hard, fixed, immobile. “Is that true?”
He hesitated, and his gaze examined her just as closely as she’d studied him. “I could play dumb.”
“You could.”
“But I won’t insult your intelligence.”
“Thank you.”
“There have been other women here.”
Tally swallowed, surprised at how much it hurt, the idea of Tair with other women. Of course he had to have had other women. He knew exactly what to do with a woman—at least in the bedroom—and while part of his skill might be natural talent, the rest of it…the timing, the ability to hold back, the knowledge of a woman’s most sensitive zones…that was education. “European women? Americans? Canadians?”
The corner of his mouth tugged but he wasn’t smiling. “Someone’s been talking.”
“And they all were your lovers?”
His dark head inclined and his gaze narrowed, creases fanning from his eyes. He suddenly looked wise, and weary. “Yes.”
“Where are they now?”
“Gone.”
“Dead?”
He laughed shortly, not at all amused. “I’ve never hurt a woman. I’m a man, maybe not honorable, but not violent with women.”
She nearly rolled her eyes. “So you let them leave after they visited you here?”
“Of course.”
Of course. She felt her own lips curve, a tremulous smile of recognition that she’d caught him in a lie. A deliberate mistruth, one that had allowed him to manipulate her. Trap her. Her insides knotted, cramping. “You told me I couldn’t leave here, you said I knew too much about your life, that I carried all the pictures in my head…” Her voice drifted off and she just looked at him, waiting for the explanation or apology, for the facts that would clear this horrible misunderstanding up.
Let him be heroic. Let him be good. Let him be true. At least, true to her.
Let him care enough about her to do what was best for her.
But Tair didn’t answer and appeared indifferent. Blasé.
Why had she even begun this? Why care about the truth, whatever the truth was? She searched his dark eyes again. “You didn’t have to keep me here, did you?”
For a minute she didn’t think he was going to answer. She thought he’d pull the silent routine but he surprised her by smiling faintly. “No,” he said. “I didn’t have to keep you here. I could have let you go. I just didn’t want you to.”
“You lied to me.”
“Tricked you, too.”
She shook her head sadly, hurt, so hurt she could barely keep her heartbreak from showing. “Why?”
“All’s fair in love and war.”
“And you’re a man of war,” she said bitterly. “Soussi el-Kebir.”
His expression was mocking. “The big man of the desert.”
Tally rose, headed for the patio, needing air, space, relief. As she headed through the arched doorway Tair’s voice followed her.
“Has Leena packed your travel bag? We leave for our honeymoon in the next hour.”