The Sultan's Harem Bride Page 18

  ‘This isn’t about you.’ He paced so close he read the tension in her lips and the pain in those over-bright amber eyes. What he saw there almost undid him. He wanted to protect her from hurt. He, who hadn’t been able to protect his sister!

  ‘Any man would be proud to have you as his wife.’

  ‘But not you.’ Her voice was hollow.

  Asim shook his head. ‘I’d be proud but I couldn’t do it to you. What sort of marriage would it be where you loved and I didn’t?’ He reached for her then caught himself and pulled his arm back.

  ‘You believe in love, Jacqueline. You can love. You deserve the same from the man you marry. You deserve a man who can love you too.’ The notion of her with some other man tore a hole through Asim’s belly and he almost staggered.

  ‘If we married...’ he paused and swallowed, moistening his arid mouth ‘...it would be unfair and unequal. I’d feel guilty for not giving you what you wanted, not living up to your dreams, and you’d grow out of love eventually. You’d resent me and wish you’d never taken me on.’

  ‘Is that what happened with your parents, Asim?’

  ‘This isn’t about them!’

  Couldn’t she see? Didn’t she know she was offering herself as a sacrifice to a marriage that would destroy her? He couldn’t do that to her, despite the selfish part of him that wanted to grab her before she changed her mind.

  He breathed deep then regretted it as he caught the scent of apricots. Would that always remind him of her?

  ‘I’m honoured by your offer, Jacqueline. But I can’t take advantage of you like that.’

  She stepped forward, crowding him. ‘I want you to.’

  Asim stared into her face, taut with fear and hope, and felt panic that he might weaken. He might not be in love, but he cared for Jacqueline, and he didn’t want to leave her.

  But he knew his duty to her even if she didn’t.

  ‘The woman I marry will not love me, nor I her. It’s better that way. Anything else would be unfair on her.’ He paused. ‘I care for you too much to do that.’

  Silence hung between them. Asim couldn’t tear his gaze from hers. He wanted to find words to cushion the blow he’d dealt but there were none. He could only protect her by telling her the truth.

  Finally she moved, turning her head from side to side like a boxer who’d taken one too many punches.

  ‘In that case, Asim, I’d be grateful if you’d arrange a vehicle.’ She looked him in the eye and he felt hurt slam through his chest. ‘It’s time I left.’

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  THE SUN SHONE BRIGHTLY, turning the park’s avenue of old trees into a bower of dappled green light, a welcome respite from Melbourne’s summer heat.

  But, instead of the neat path and regimented trees, Jacqui pictured the Asada oasis, its crystalline pools and delicious havens of green. When she inhaled she almost smelled the desert sand and spices.

  A shout of laughter jerked her head up and she watched a family cross the grass, like so many others heading for the Grand Slam tennis tournament along the Yarra River.

  Her eyes lingered on the tall, dark-haired man in the group as he swung a tot onto his shoulders, the other children clamouring for a ride. Then she ripped her gaze away, ignoring the way her chest clamped.

  Swerving to avoid them, she set off for the edge of the park. Her hotel was there, across the road, and her hour was up. Each day she forced herself out of the hotel for a walk, to exercise and try to lose herself in the crowds.

  Not that it was possible to lose herself. Nothing, not work or the familiarity of her own country, had managed to make her forget, or offer respite from pain. She’d even opted for an anonymous hotel rather than her tiny flat while she finished her book, hoping the novelty might take her mind off the cold weight in her chest.

  Jacqui hesitated, wondering if she should try harder. Maybe order something at the café in the centre of the park and watch the people. Except it was near the Fairies Tree, a mecca for parents with young children.

  Jacqui lengthened her stride, heading for the road. When had she become such a grouch that the laughter of children unsettled her?

  Since she’d discovered Asim was planning his own family with some other woman.

  Jacqui would never bear his child, or hold him close, or have him look at her in that way that made her heart flutter.

  She grimaced. That look had merely signified lust. She’d just been too naïve to recognise it.

  Had he found his bride? Jacqui had avoided the news, not wanting to hear of a royal betrothal. Pain tore at her throat and roughened her breathing.

  With a quick look at the traffic, she stepped onto the road, crossing to her hotel.

  That was when she heard the hubbub and saw the security cordon. Jacqui frowned. It was a pleasant hotel with a view over the Treasury Gardens but it wasn’t one of the luxury premises visited by VIPs. Yet she saw a news camera beside the entry and a phalanx of staff at the top of the stairs.

  Distracted, Jacqui hesitated, then had to scurry to the pavement as a limousine drew to the kerb.

  The crowd surged, held back by men in dark suits. The hotel manager hastened from the head of the stairs as the limo door opened.

  Curiosity stirring, Jacqui watched a tall figure emerge from the back seat. A figure with wide shoulders and a jacket of steel-grey shot with midnight blue. The slanting morning light caught the rich, matching fabric of his neat turban and accentuated an arrogant slash of a nose that perfectly matched his proud, honed features.

  A tingling began in her fingers and toes as numbness swamped her. Even her breath suspended as she took in that oh-so-familiar visage.

  Then, in a rush, the blood pounded in her ears and her breath sawed on a gasp that seared her lungs.

  She stumbled as she swung around, lurching against a bystander and almost falling as she willed her feet to keep moving. Anywhere. So long as it was away from here.

  Asim, here! What did it mean?

  It couldn’t be coincidence. For one thing, he’d never mentioned planning a visit to Australia. For another, this wasn’t the sort of palatial hotel to house heads of state. For another...

  Jacqui couldn’t think of another but instinct shouted he was here for her. Why, she didn’t know, but she wasn’t staying to find out. She wasn’t up to treating Asim as a casual acquaintance.

  A shout came from behind her. Was that her name?

  Jacqui didn’t turn but walked faster, clutching her lightweight cardigan around her.

  Lights at a crossing flashed green and she hurried across, joining the jostle of pedestrians.

  Her heart was hammering, her breath was uneven and her teeth had an alarming tendency to chatter. Swept by the crowd, she scurried along one block then another, until she reached a pavement café. Shock took its toll. Knees rubbery, she dropped into a chair at a table by itself, half-hidden by a planter box.

  Jacqui grabbed the menu then laid it down. It shook so badly she couldn’t read it. No matter; she’d ask for something sweet and full of chocolate. Something to counteract the shock of seeing Asim.

  Had she imagined him? He couldn’t really be here.

  ‘Jacqueline.’ That deep voice ran like treacle through her body. Instead of stiffening in surprise, Jacqui found herself slumping, exhausted by the inevitable. Had she really thought to escape?

  What Asim wanted he always got and for some reason he wanted to see her.

  Anger sparked. Couldn’t he leave her alone? Couldn’t he see she was trying to get on with her life?

  Slowly she raised her eyes and flinched as her heart gave an almighty thump of recognition and longing. He towered over her, broad and imposing and impossibly sexy, despite the stark concern etched into his spare features and the grim line of his mouth.
r />   ‘You shouldn’t be here, Asim.’

  ‘I know. I’m supposed to be on a state visit to France.’

  ‘And interviewing brides.’ The words jerked out.

  Without asking, he took the seat opposite, propping his arms on the table as he leaned close, scrutinising her.

  For the first time that day Jacqui gave a thought to her appearance. Hair in a high ponytail, already coming down around her ears, bare of make-up and dressed in lightweight trousers, T-shirt and cardigan, she was hardly prepared for an interview with royalty.

  She’d hoped if she saw him again—and she had hoped—that she’d look serene, aloof and even beautiful.

  Jacqui bit her lip, her eyes lowering.

  Asim was the only one who’d called her beautiful.

  ‘Don’t.’ His hand snaked out and captured hers, clamping it to the table. She gasped as fire sizzled through her veins. The fire she’d told herself she’d imagined. But memory hadn’t exaggerated.

  One touch from Asim was all it took.

  Dimly she was aware of a bustle on the pavement. She turned. Heavy-set security men were trying to block a couple of cameramen from filming. But she noticed a number of mobile phones raised in their direction.

  She supposed she should be concerned that he’d made her the subject of gossip just by following her down the street, but that was the least of her concerns.

  ‘You’re creating a scene. You should go.’

  ‘I don’t give a damn.’

  Her eyebrows arched. ‘Those are TV cameras. You’re making a spectacle of yourself, a target for the sort of stories you hate.’

  To her amazement, Asim smiled. The impact rocked her back in her chair and made her forget about trying to wrest her hand free.

  ‘Recent events have put my dislike of the press in perspective.’

  ‘Recent events?’ Her stomach plunged and she sat straighter. ‘Has something happened to Samira?’

  ‘No, she’s thriving, though missing you.’ He leaned close and she almost lost herself in the dark velvet of his eyes. ‘But there are far worse things than providing fodder for the press.’

  Jacqui doubted that. Asim’s prejudice was strong. ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like losing the one woman in the world who can make me happy.’

  His fingers tightened on hers as she recoiled, her spine hitting the back of her seat. The sound of traffic and people blurred to white noise.

  ‘Don’t!’ It was almost a shout. ‘Don’t,’ she whispered. ‘Whatever you’re up to, I don’t want to be part of it. I walked away, remember? I’m getting on with my life.’ No matter that she had yet to discover a spark of interest in anything.

  ‘Oh, I remember, Jacqueline.’ His mouth curved in a baring of teeth she could only call ferocious. ‘To my everlasting shame, I remember. That’s why I’m here. To tell you I’m sorry for what I did, pushing you away.’

  Jacqui stared at his harsh expression but hadn’t a hope of guessing what he thought.

  ‘It’s a long way to come for an apology.’

  ‘You don’t think you deserve it?’

  She leaned close enough that his spicy scent tickled her nose. Involuntarily she breathed deep, savouring it. Her automatic reaction fuelled an anger she’d hoped had passed. ‘What’s wrong between us can’t be fixed by an apology, Asim.’

  To her amazement he paled, the gleam in his eyes extinguished like a flame snuffed out.

  ‘Don’t say that.’ His hand tightened almost to the point of pain.

  ‘It’s true. You want a blue-blooded princess for a cold-hearted marriage. An apology won’t change that.’ As abruptly as it had flared, her indignation died, replaced by sorrow. ‘You can’t help what you feel and nor can I. At least you were honest with me at the end.’

  His other hand joined the first, engulfing hers on the table.

  ‘That’s where you’re wrong.’

  ‘Sorry?’ Jacqui gaped. Distressed as she was, she knew Asim was a man of his word. Even that last evening, her heart shredding to bleeding tatters, she’d seen his regret. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her.

  His jaw looked as solid as the stone of the Jazeeri citadel. Only the double-time flick of a pulse at his throat betrayed him.

  ‘Asim?’ She was used to him in control, managing every situation, even the business of despatching his unwanted lover.

  He didn’t look in control now.

  ‘I wasn’t honest with you.’ The words were a bare rumble of sound, drawing her closer till their heads almost met. ‘I told myself I was. I was even proud of myself, in a perverse way, for making us face the brutal truth that we couldn’t be together. For bringing everything into the open.’

  His nostrils flared on a deep breath and his eyes flickered shut. When they opened again she read something in his expression she’d never seen. It held her trapped as surely as his hands.

  Something in her chest seemed to roll over. Her heart?

  ‘I was afraid, Jacqueline. Afraid to face a truth I wasn’t ready for.’ He swallowed hard. She watched the muscles of his throat work and tried to understand what made him so vulnerable.

  One bronzed hand rose to stroke her cheek and it was her turn to swallow as the slow caress evoked sensations she’d thought never to know again. Hot tears glazed her eyes and she fought to stop her mouth crumpling.

  ‘My darling.’ His voice was for her ears alone. ‘Can you forgive me? I’d spent a lifetime convinced there was no such thing as love, at least for me. I was a coward, terrified to face the emotions you made me feel. I didn’t see I’d already fallen for you.’

  Jacqui sucked in a stunned breath. ‘You love me?’ Her heart stuttered then sped to a gallop. She tried to sit back, to digest this, but his hand slid to the back of her neck, warm and compelling, keeping her close.

  ‘I don’t deserve you, not after the pain I caused us.’ He breathed deep, his chest expanding mightily. ‘But I love you, Jacqueline Fletcher. It took me less than a day after you’d left to realise my fatal mistake. I drove you away, not because I didn’t care but because I cared too much. I was too cowardly to face that.’

  Jacqui blinked. She could read his expression now. It was open and clear. The light she saw there shone like a beacon in the grey that had shrouded her since she’d left him.

  ‘I admire you, habibti. I’m fascinated by you, more attracted than I’ve been to any woman—and I admit there have been a few in my past.’ A slashing gesture summarily dismissed them all.

  ‘I care about you. Your happiness is more important than my own. I’ve never felt that with any woman, but I want only good things for you. I want to spend my life cherishing you and building our lives together. If I hadn’t been a coward at Asada I’d have recognised it then.’ He shook his head. ‘I’d been too busy believing I could control my feelings, never guessing I’d loved you for weeks.’

  ‘You had?’ Jacqui was dazed, drinking in his words.

  ‘At least from the night you wore the silver dress.’ His eyes glittered with a heat that scorched her from her cheeks to her toes. ‘I told myself I was seducing you but all along it was you with your innocence and honesty and courage, seducing me.’ He smiled. ‘Or maybe it was even earlier. You were in my thoughts all the time.’

  Jacqui told herself dreams couldn’t come true this easily.

  ‘But I’m not like the women on your list. I’m not aristocratic or—’

  ‘You’re the woman I want, Jacqueline. No list would do you justice.’

  ‘What about your parents? You said...’

  Asim shook his head. ‘I said a lot of things. Most of it rubbish. How could I fear what we have together? We’re not my parents. You’re strong, courageous and loyal and I...’ He shrugged those broad shoulders. ‘I rely on you to teach me abo
ut love.’

  Jacqui slipped one hand free and covered his, her heart swelling. ‘You’re already an expert, Asim. Your love for Samira and your grandmother is there for all to see.’

  ‘Does that mean you’ll have me? You forgive me?’ His voice, a gravel whisper, dragged like a rough caress across her skin.

  ‘Asim! Are you asking what I think you’re asking? Here on a Melbourne street corner?’ A bubble of hysterical laughter threatened, fed by shock.

  ‘Why not? Unless you’d prefer I got down on one knee. Is that how it’s done here?’

  His chair scraped back on the pavement and Jacqui lunged forward, grabbing both his forearms.

  ‘You can’t be serious!’ She glanced around to see a crowd had gathered, barely held back by his bodyguards. Even the traffic seemed to have slowed and, sure enough, at least one cameraman had his lens trained on them.

  ‘I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. I want you as my lover, my wife, my queen.’

  ‘But...’ Words failed her. Her heart was so full she felt like laughing and crying at the same time. And hugging Asim and never letting him go. ‘But you can’t propose here. Look at me: I’m wearing an old cardigan!’

  Asim’s face broke into a smile that stole her breath all over again. ‘You’ll start a trend, my darling. All the fashionistas will want one in just that shade of brown.’

  He stood, pulling her to her feet, his body sheltering her from the crowd.

  ‘Very well, I’ll take you somewhere more suitable and ask you to be my bride.’ His face sobered, his hold tightening. ‘On condition you promise to say yes.’

  Jacqui stared up at the one man in the world she’d ever love and understood for the first time that phrase about your heart singing. Hers was doing it right now.

  ‘Jacqueline?’ Was that fear in Asim’s voice?

  She lifted her palm to his face and sighed at the dear familiarity of him.

  ‘That can be arranged, Your Highness. On condition you take me somewhere very, very private. After this...’ she gestured to the thronged footpath ‘...I want you all to myself.’