'Arrogant? You saw that as arrogance? Yes, there were women-' and he couldn't even remember them now because next to her there was no one '-but there will always be women who are attracted by wealth and the opportunity to mingle with the famous and the influential, but that's one single part of the life I lead. Then there is the other part-' he paused because this degree of honesty was so alien to him '-the part that means your choices are rarely your own and the part that requires you to serve others while forfeiting your own wishes and invariably your privacy too. You want to trust people, so you do and then you make a mistake and you learn that trust is a luxury afforded to other people. It's a hard lesson, but you learn to trust no one except your immediate family.'
She was still now, the humour gone from her eyes as she listened. 'Mal-'
'You learn how it feels to go through life alone and because you are alone you are forced to develop confidence in your own decisions. And that isn't easy. In the beginning you're afraid that all those decisions are wrong.' Remembering, he gave a humourless laugh. 'You wait for the world to fall apart and for everyone to discover that just because you are a Prince doesn't mean you know what you're talking about. You want to ask advice, but you don't dare because to display such a lack of confidence would be a political error. It's back to trust again, and you remember that you can't afford to do that. So you make the decisions alone and you make them with confidence and you learn not to question or hesitate because when you do, people lose faith in you. Is that arrogance?' He lifted his head and looked her in the eyes, wondering if anything he'd said made any sense to her. 'I see it more as a product of a lifetime of making decisions alone.'
She was silent for a moment. Then the corners of her mouth flickered. 'Well, that's put me in my place.' Her tone was light but her expression was serious. 'You never told me this.'
'No. And I should have. When you and I argued, I was more myself than I have ever been in my life before. I found myself trusting you.' He reached across the table and took her hand. 'Suddenly I was contemplating something I'd always thought unobtainable. Sharing my life and my future with someone I could love and someone I knew could cope with the life I lead. For once what I wanted coincided with what my father wanted for me. I made the decision the way I've made every other decision. By myself. I told my father and he was supportive.'
'You were sure of me.'
'I was sure you loved me as much as I loved you, even though you hadn't told me that. I was about to tell you how I felt and ask you to marry me-' The memory came along with a rush of frustration. 'I had the ring in my pocket on the night I met Richard and he taunted me. Implied that you and he-'
'I have better taste in men than that.'
'I know. I overreacted and it cost me the only relationship that would have worked for me.'
'That wasn't the reason.' She eased her hand out of his and sat back in her chair. 'I was raised to see marriage as something that damaged a relationship. Something that removed choice and meant nothing but personal sacrifice. Being with a man meant giving up part of yourself. I tried moving past that. Tried telling myself that it didn't always happen that way and with you I'd begun to believe it-' she stared at the bubbles rising in her glass and then back at him, her gaze frank and honest. 'But then I took that call from Richard and instead of seeing it for what it was-a manipulative attempt to break us up-I chose to let it feed all my insecurities. You can find evidence for anything if you want to and I took this as evidence that our relationship couldn't work. That you were taking over my life. Making decisions for me. You wanted me to give up my job. I was waiting for a reason to run, and he gave it to me.'
'I gave it to you. I see that now. I was so used to making decisions on my own that I failed to share my thoughts and that was a fundamental error to make with a woman like you. I underestimated the depth of your insecurities and I-' he gripped his glass '-I overestimated your feelings for me.'
'Maybe the first is true, but the second-' she lifted her head and gave him a faltering smile '-no. You didn't overestimate. I did have those feelings. You were right about that. But the feelings weren't enough to cancel out the insecurities.'
'And now?' He hardly dared ask the question. 'Are those feelings enough for you to overcome everything your mother taught you? Can you forget One Thousand and One ways for a marriage to die and instead think about ways it can work?'
The only sound was the relaxing sound of water that came from the ornamental fountain by the pool.
Then she stood up abruptly and walked to the edge of the pool, her back to him. Like a wild animal disturbed, he thought, watching in silence.
'Don't do this, Mal.'
'I am doing it.'
She wrapped her arms around herself even though the evening was oppressively warm. 'Why can't you leave it alone? Why does it have to be marriage?'
'Because for me there is no other possible outcome. It has to be marriage. But, unlike you, I don't see that as a negative. I love you. You're the only woman I want to spend my life with so marriage is logical to me.' He rose to his feet, careful to give her time. He rescued her chair, but she didn't sit down. Just stood there, looking at him over her shoulder as if she was deciding whether it was safe to stay. Whether she should run or not. Hunted and hunter.
'I am an independent woman-'
'You're a frightened woman.' He curved his hand around her waist and pulled her against him. It felt like progress when she didn't pull away. 'It's time to separate what your mother told you from what you know to be true. I love you. You have to believe that I love you. I want you to marry me.' He felt the fear ripple through her but he kept his arm round her and held her.
She placed her hand flat against his chest, as if it was essential to keep some distance even now, during this most intimate of conversations. 'You want to kill what we have stone-dead?'
'It doesn't have to be that way. It's not going to be that way for us.'
'People say that-' There was desperation in the way she blurted the words out. 'They make promises and exchange rings and believe that it's going to last, and then it doesn't. Relationships fail all the time. How can you possibly know what you'll want, or feel, in the future?'
'When you started your business, were you afraid of failing? Did it ever occur to you that perhaps it was better not to try in case it didn't succeed?'
She looked up at him and then looked away again. 'No, of course not. But that's different.'
'Businesses fail every day, habibti. If yours had failed-'
'I wouldn't have let it fail.'
'Exactly. You wouldn't have let it fail. That is the reason your business is flourishing in this economic climate. Because of your determination. Because when something feels wrong, you deal with it. You flex. You compromise. And you will bring all those skills to our marriage and it will be a success.'
'Marriage is different than business.'
'But the same qualities are required for both. You start with a burning passion, and that burning passion is what keeps things alive if problems arise.' He could see her weighing it up, pitting his words against her ingrained beliefs and he held his breath because he had no idea how that fight would end.
'I'm scared-' She covered her face with her hands and leaned her forehead against his chest. 'I can't believe I'm admitting that.'
'I'm pleased you're admitting that. For once you're being honest. I can work with that. Now all I have to do is get you to admit that you love me.' He closed his hands around her wrists and drew her hands away from her face so that he could look at her. 'Is it unreasonable to hope that one day you'll actually say those words to me?'
There was humour in her eyes. And something else. Something warm he'd always hoped to see when she looked at him.
'I don't think your ego needs the boost.'
He lowered his head, smiling against her mouth as he brushed his lips over hers. 'Try me. Let's see what happens.'
'We're too different. We want different things.'
'I want you. You want me. What's different about that?'
Her fingers were locked in the front of his shirt. 'You'd expect me to give up my job.'
'Not true, at least not in the sense that you mean.' He trailed his fingers down her neck, touching the diamonds she wore at her throat. His diamonds. 'You are a master of organisation-that is why your parties are always such a success. You can juggle a million projects at once. You have consummate social skills and you know just what to say to put people at ease. You are beautiful, poised, generous and warm. All these are perfect qualities for the role of Sultan's wife.'