Demanding His Desert Queen. Annie West
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to the Royal Council? Why interfere? Are you so eager to choose your next husband?’
Safiyah’s breath hissed between pearly teeth and her creamy skin turned parchment-pale.
Satisfaction stirred as he saw his jibe hit the mark. For he hated how she made him feel. She dredged up emotions he’d told himself were dead and buried. He felt them scrape up his gullet, across his skin. The searing hurt and disbelief, the sense of worthlessness and shock as his life had been turned inside out in one short night. At that crisis in his life her faithlessness had burned like acid—the final insult to a man who’d lost everything.
Nevertheless, as Karim watched the convulsive movement of her throat and the sudden appearance of a dimple in her cheek, his satisfaction bled away. Years ago she’d had a habit of biting her cheek when nervous. But Karim doubted nerves had anything to do with Safiyah’s response now. Maybe she was trying to garner sympathy.
Yet he felt ashamed. He’d never been so petty as to take satisfaction in another’s distress, even if it was feigned. He was better than that.
He opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it.
‘I’m not…’ she paused after the word, her chin tilting up as she caught his eye ‘…looking for a new husband.’
Her voice was low, the words barely above a whisper, yet he heard steel behind them.
Because she’d loved Abbas so deeply?
Karim found himself torn between hoping it was true and wanting to protest that she’d never loved her husband. Because just months before her marriage to the Assaran King she’d supposedly loved Karim.
He gritted his teeth, discomfited by the way feelings undermined his thought processes. He’d been taught to think clearly, to disengage his emotions, not to feel too much. His response to Safiyah’s presence was out of character for a man renowned for his even temper, his consideration of others and careful thinking.
‘That’s not how things are done in Assara,’ she added. ‘The new Sheikh will be named by the Royal Council. There is no requirement for him to marry his predecessor’s widow.’
Was it his imagination, or had she shivered at the idea? She couldn’t have made her disdain more obvious.
Which was tantamount to a lance, piercing Karim’s pride. Once she’d welcomed his attentions. But then he’d been first in line to a royal throne of his own. The eldest son of a family proud of its noble lineage.
‘What will happen to you when the new Sheikh is crowned?’
‘To me?’ Her eyes widened, as if she was surprised he’d even ask. ‘Tarek and I will leave the palace and live elsewhere.’
Tarek. Her son.
He’d imagined once that she’d give him a son…
Karim slammed a barrier down on such sentimental thoughts. He didn’t know what was wrong with him today. It was as if the feelings he’d put away years before hadn’t gone away at all, but had festered, waiting to surge up and slap him down when he least expected it.
Deliberately he did what he did best—focused on the problem at hand, ready to find a solution.
‘So if you have no personal interest in the next Sheikh, why come all the way here to see me? The Assaran envoy saw me a couple of hours ago. Couldn’t you trust him to do the job he was chosen for?’
Karim knew something of Assaran politics. He couldn’t believe the previous Sheikh had allowed his wife to play any significant role in matters of state. Whichever way he examined it, Safiyah’s behaviour was odd.
‘I didn’t want to get involved.’ Again her voice was low. ‘But I felt duty-bound to come, just in case…’ She shook her head and looked at a point near his ear. ‘The Council is very eager to convince you. It was agreed that I should add my arguments if necessary.’
‘And what arguments might those be?’
Karim kept his eyes fixed on her face. He wasn’t tacky enough to stare at all the female bounty encased in rustling silk. But perhaps she’d guessed that he was wondering what persuasions she’d try. Colour streaked her cheekbones and her breasts lifted high on a suddenly indrawn breath.
‘Assara needs you—’
‘In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not into a life of public service any more. I work for myself now.’
Her mouth settled in a line that spoke of determination. Had he ever seen her look like that? His memory of Safiyah at twenty-two was that she’d been gentle and eager to go along with whatever he suggested.
But that had been almost five years ago. He couldn’t be expected to remember everything about her clearly, even if it felt like he did.
‘I could talk about the wealth and honour that will be yours if you take the throne…’
She paused, but he didn’t respond. Karim had his own money. He also knew that being Sheikh meant a lifetime of duty and responsibility. Riches and the glamour of a royal title didn’t sway him.
Safiyah inclined her head, as if his non-response confirmed what she’d expected. ‘Most important of all, you’d make a fine leader. You have the qualities Assara needs. You’re honest, fair and hardworking. The political elite respect you. Plus you’re interested in the wellbeing of the people. Everyone says it was you who began to make Za’daq better for those who weren’t born rich.’
Karim felt his eyebrows climb. He was tempted to think she was trying to flatter him into accepting the position. Except there was nothing toadying about her demeanour.
‘The nobles trust you. The people trust you.’
He shook his head. ‘That was a long time ago.’
‘Your qualities and experience will stand you in good stead no matter how long it’s been. And it’s only been a few years.’
Years since he’d left his homeland and turned his back on everything he’d known. He was only now beginning to feel that he’d settled into his new life.
Safiyah leaned forward, and he felt for the first time since she’d arrived that she wasn’t conscious of her body language. Earlier she’d seemed very self-aware. Now she was too caught up in their discussion to be guarded. He read animation in her brown eyes and knew, whatever her real reason for being here, that she meant what she said.
Karim canted closer, drawn to her in spite of himself.
‘It’s what you were born to do and you’d excel at it.’
Abruptly Karim sank back in his seat. Her words had unravelled the spell she’d woven. The moment of connection broke, shattered by a wave of revulsion.
‘It doesn’t matter what I was born to do.’ His nostrils flared as he swallowed rising acid. ‘I’ve renounced all that.’
Because he wasn’t the man the world thought him. He was the bastard son of an unfaithful queen and her shadowy lover.
‘Of course it matters!’ Her clasped hands trembled as if with the force of her emotion. ‘Assara desperately needs a ruler who can keep the country together—especially now, when rival clans are stirring dissension and jealousy. Each wants their own man on the throne.’
Karim shrugged. ‘Why should I bother? One of them will be elected and the others will have to put up with it. Maybe there’ll be unrest for a bit, but it will die down.’
‘You don’t see…’
She paused and looked down at her hands. Karim saw a tiny cleft appear in her cheek and then vanish. She was biting the inside of her mouth again. Absurdly, the sight moved him.
‘What aren’t you saying, Safiyah?’
It was the first time he’d