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Woman in a Sheikh's World(31)

By:Sarah Morgan


'Which would keep the land divided.'

'Yes. I always knew I would have to marry because it was essential that  Zubran be reunited as one country, but I'd always assumed it would be a  political marriage based on nothing more than economic gain. I've met  many women, but not a single one who I would have wanted to spend a  lifetime with. Until I met you.'

Her eyes met his. 'Why didn't you just tell me this before?'

'If I'd said to you, "I have to be married by the time I'm thirty-two,"  would you have listened to anything else I said? You, who are always  looking for evidence to endorse your view that all relationships are  doomed? Tell me you wouldn't have interpreted that as a sign I was  pursuing you for less than romantic reasons, just as you are now.' He  saw her shift slightly and gave a derisive smile. 'Precisely. I would  have lost you on day one and I had no intention of doing that. So I kept  quiet until day two, and then until day three and I let the  relationship run and hoped that if you found out, when you found out,  the bond we shared would be sufficiently deep for you to trust me. Yes,  the date by which I have to marry is almost here. It matters to my  father and my people that Zubran becomes one country again. And it  matters to me. But none of that has any bearing on my feelings for you  and that is why I didn't mention it.'                       
       
           



       

'And if I had said no? What then?'

It was a question he hadn't wanted her to ask. A question he hadn't even  wanted to ask himself because there really was only one answer. 'I  would have married someone else. When you're wealthy and well connected  there is always someone who is willing to sacrifice romance for reality.  And now, no doubt, you will go away and add that to your armoury of  reasons why our marriage would fail. No doubt you will hear the voice of  your mother warning you that a man who needs to marry is a man whose  marriage is doomed.' He threw it out there and waited for her to throw  it back at him, to tell him that of course she didn't think that, but  she was ominously silent and he saw the telltale sheen in her eyes.

'Mal-'

He was afraid to let her speak in case this was the moment when she told  him it was over. 'Has it occurred to you that your mother could have  been wrong? You're not even willing to entertain the idea of contacting  your father, but it might be helpful. It might shed light on their  relationship. Perhaps it wasn't all him, perhaps it was her; have you  thought of that? Perhaps she killed her own relationship, the way she  has tried to kill all of yours simply by the way she raised you.'

Her face was white, as if he'd suggested something shocking.

Watching her with a mixture of exasperation and despair, Mal wondered why this was such a block for her.

Was she afraid that she'd track down her father, only for him to reject her all over again?

Was that what he was seeing in those beautiful blue eyes?

She stood still as if she wanted to say something and then she gave a  little shake of her head, turned and walked towards the door.

Mal resisted the temptation to stride after her and turn the key in the  lock. 'This isn't about the fact I didn't tell you about my deadline to  get married. It isn't about any of that. It's about you, Avery. You.  Once again you are looking for excuses to run. You are expecting it to  fall apart, just as your mother no doubt did with your father. Are you  really going to kill what we have in the same way that she did?'

Say no. Say no and stop walking.

But she didn't stop walking and he felt a heaviness in his chest, an ache that refused to go away.

'I will be there tomorrow, ready to marry you,' he said in a thickened  tone, 'because that is what I want and because I believe in us. Despite  everything, I believe in us. The question is, do you believe in us too,  habibti?'

Finally her steps slowed. He saw her shoulders move as the breath  rippled through her and then she increased the pace again and walked  from the room without a backward glance.





CHAPTER NINE


IT was a night without sleep. She stayed up. Saw both sunset and sunrise  as she sat alone in the water garden, feet bare, hair loose, tucked  away in a place that no one would think of looking, apart from Mal, and  he hadn't bothered.

I will be there tomorrow, ready to marry you.

But how could she do that now that she knew he had to get married? It  explained everything. The speed with which he'd put that ring on her  finger; the fact that he'd asked her so quickly after his relationship  with Kalila had collapsed. It wasn't to do with the depth of his love  for her. It was all to do with his uncle's will.

He hadn't been honest.

Avery turned her head. Inside the Palace, lights burned as an army of  staff busied themselves with final preparations for the wedding of the  Crown Prince and Miss Avery Scott. Miss Avery Scott, the woman who'd  been raised to believe that a woman was stronger without a man, that a  life was happier, and more secure, if it were lived alone. That the only  guarantees and promises worth believing were the ones you made to  yourself.

No, he hadn't been honest with her. But she hadn't been honest with him either, had she?

As if on cue, her phone beeped and she found a text from her mother.  They hadn't spoken for months. She opened it-there was only one line

Heard rumour you're getting married. Don't do anything stupid.

Don't do anything stupid  …

Her eyes filled. It was exactly what she needed to see. What had she  been thinking? What had she been doing? There was no way she could put  herself through that pain again.

Avery stared at that message for a long time. Then she slipped on her  shoes. Even the tranquil sound of the fountains in the water garden  couldn't soothe her.

Her mother was right.

It was really important not to do something stupid.

She found Mal sprawled on the balcony of his bedroom, apparently  oblivious to the buzz of excitement that gripped the rest of the Palace.  But that was because only the two of them understood that this wedding  might not happen.                       
       
           



       

He took one look at her, his dark gaze sweeping over her, taking in her  jeans and the casual shirt she was wearing and his sensual mouth  hardened. 'So that is your decision. Thank you for not waiting until I  was standing in front of a thousand guests to break the news to me.'

'I'm not here about the wedding. I'm not here to talk about us. This is  about me. There's something I have to tell you about me.' She took in  the roughness of his jaw and the shadows beneath his eyes. 'You didn't  sleep last night either.'

'Did you really think I would? Just say what you have to say, Avery.'  The chill in his voice was less than encouraging but somehow she forced  the words out.

'I have to tell you about my father. I should have told you before, but  it's not something I've ever discussed with anyone.' And it felt  terrifying to discuss it now but he was already sitting up. Paying  attention.

'What about your father?'

She could hear the splash of water from the fountain that formed the  centrepiece in the courtyard beneath them. 'He didn't leave, Mal. He  didn't walk out on me or abandon me. He wasn't a high-powered  businessman frequently out of town, which is what I used to tell my  school friends.' One by one she sliced through the lies she'd created  over the years and watched them fall, leaving only the truth. 'I'm not  afraid of marriage because my own parents' marriage failed. That isn't  what happened.' She'd come this far but, even so, saying those last  words felt hard. She waited for him to say something. To prompt her in  some way, but he didn't.

He just watched and waited and in the end she turned away slightly  because saying this was hard enough without saying it while looking at  him.

'The man who fathered me was never part of my life. Or part of my mother's life.'

'He was a one-night stand? Your mother became pregnant by accident?'

'It wasn't an accident.' Did she sound bitter? She was amazed that,  after so many years, she could have an emotion left on the topic. 'My  mother doesn't have accidents. Everything she does in life is  calculated. She plans everything. She controls everything. Her  relationship with my father played out exactly the way she wanted it to  play out.'

'And he was fine with that? He made her pregnant and wasn't interested in being part of your life?'

'That's right.' The condemnation in his voice made her nervous about  telling him the rest. She paused, trying to find words that didn't make  it seem quite so cold and clinical. 'But it wasn't the way you're  imagining it. My mother didn't have a relationship with anyone. I don't  know my father's name.'

'He was a stranger?'

'In a manner of speaking. I may not know his name, but I do know his clinic code.'

'Clinic code?' He looked confused and she couldn't blame him for that.  It was hardly the first thing that came to mind when discussing  someone's parentage.