Ann Lethbridge - Mills & Boon New Voices - Foreword by Katie Fforde

He waved a hand dismissively. “It matters not. The commission is yours.”

She resisted the urge to stomp her foot. She’d been feeling wounded and hurt, and now he’d managed to put her on the defensive. How did he do that? “Zafir, do you believe me or not?”

He strode toward her, stopping in a swirl of robes and dust. He looked suddenly angry. “Does it matter? You have got what you want.”

She swallowed as she gazed up at him, all six-foot-something of hard, arrogant male. He made her body ache just looking at him. Ridiculous the way her heart pounded. “I have never been dishonest with you, Zafir.”

“Outright? No. But omission is still a form of dishonesty. You never told me what happened between your parents.”

How dared he turn this around? He was the one at fault, not her. “What good would it have done? Besides, you were dishonest with me first.”

“We were dishonest with each other.”

The thought stung, and yet it wasn’t the same thing at all. “Why do we keep rehashing the past? It changes nothing. You still intended to marry a woman your father chose.”

“I was obligated, Genie.”

She slashed a hand through the air. “I know that, and I’m done talking about it.”

He caught her close, gripping her upper arms hard. “You were important to me, whether you believe it or not. And you have no idea what it is like not getting to make your own choices in life. No one has ever told you that you are required to give up everything you want for the greater good of your country.”

Genie jerked free from his grip. She didn’t fool herself that she was what he’d had to give up. “Maybe not, but do you think my life was any easier? You were born into privilege and accustomed to having the world at your fingertips. I had to work hard for every opportunity I ever got.” She took a step backward, putting distance between them, her body shaking with adrenaline and fury. “What would you know about sacrifice? You wanted me to sacrifice everything to be with you, yet you weren’t prepared to sacrifice a thing!”

The words echoed through the empty temple. Zafir’s gaze was hard, his nostrils flaring as they stared each other down. His voice, when he finally answered, was deadly cold. “You will never know what I’ve sacrificed. Do not presume to tell me I have no idea what the word means.”

Genie pulled in a shaky breath. Why did she get so emotional? Why did she let him press her buttons and make her so defensive? Her life had been upside down since the minute she’d walked into that tent and seen him sitting on the dais. And she was having a hell of a time getting it right again.

Zafir glanced at his watch, dismissing her as easily as he might one of his subjects. “If you are finished here, it’s time we returned to the palace.”

Before she could answer, he simply turned in a sweep of robes and headed toward the entrance.

He was furious. Furious with the woman sitting so quietly beside him in the car, and furious that he was allowing her to get to him when he had far more important things to think about.

Just this morning there’d been another threat to his life. He wasn’t worried. His security was tight and, besides, he knew there was always a certain level of disgruntlement to be expected when a new leader took office. The threats were vague, written on plain stationery and posted in Al-Shahar. The royal police were investigating, and Zafir had every confidence they would soon find the culprit.

At least one situation in his life required definite steps to take and had a resolution in sight. For that he was thankful.

But how did one correct a situation based on strong emotion and cultural differences? If he’d known about Genie’s childhood, would it have changed his actions?

Probably. Because he would have understood how painful it was to her, and would have realized how different their worlds were. He’d asked her to give up her schooling and come to Bah’shar for what amounted to nothing more than an affair.

And he’d done it for selfish reasons, which made him furious with himself. She’d filled the emptiness inside him and he’d been reluctant to give that up. And, he admitted to himself, he’d hoped that once she reached Bah’shar, once they’d been together for a while, even his marriage to a princess wouldn’t prevent Genie from staying as his lover.

He’d offered her nothing and expected her to give up everything, just like she’d said.

Worse, he wanted to do it again.

When they reached the palace, he left her in the care of Yusuf and turned his attention to the Sheikhs. It was time to reach a solution. And, after that, time to let Genie Gray walk out of his life for the second time.

The rest of the afternoon passed quietly. Genie was shown to the palace library, where there was a vast selection of books, and did a bit of research on the history of Bah’shar. Her Arabic was tolerable, though her command of the Bah’sharan dialect left something to be desired, but she worked her way through a few texts as the hours passed.

She might have gotten through them more quickly if she’d been able to stop thinking about Zafir. He’d seemed unapproachable in the car on the way back to the palace, as if he’d closed himself off and meant to keep it that way.

Maybe she wouldn’t see him again. Maybe he’d issue orders that she was to be driven back to her camp and left there. The thought left her feeling empty and bereft. And angry—because why did she want to torture herself by spending more time in his company?

Being sent away was the best thing that could happen to her.

She did not belong here. Oh, she would return to excavate the temples—she wasn’t a fool—but she didn’t belong in the royal palace in the bed of the King. Nothing good could ever come of a relationship with Zafir. She knew because she hadn’t been able to stop herself from reading some of the Bah’sharan code. The King was duty-bound to take either a Bah’sharan wife or a royal one from a neighboring country. Genie, for all her success in her chosen field, had no place in his life—nor would she ever.

When she returned to the harem, she found the same servant from yesterday, who bore another letter with the King’s seal. She reached for it, a thread of apprehension skimming through her.

Was this it? Was this her dismissal? She half prayed it was. The back of her neck tingled as she ripped it open and read it.

It was not a dismissal—or at least not an outright one. Zafir simply regretted that he could not have dinner with her, and indicated that she would be served in her room.

Genie ate dinner alone, then passed the evening with one of the books she’d taken from the library. She thought about going to bed several times, but she wasn’t in the least bit tired, so she stayed up and read on one of the comfortable sofas. She was just about to close the book and go to bed anyway when the door to the harem opened and Zafir strode in.

A glance at her watch told her it was nearly midnight. She blinked at him in surprise.

“What are you doing here?”

He was still dressed in the garments he’d worn earlier. He jerked the headdress off and tossed it aside. “Disappointed to see me?”

Genie swallowed. “Not at all. But I thought you were angry with me.”

He shrugged. “I was irritated.”

“Where have you been all this time?” She winced at how much like a jealous girlfriend she sounded. It wasn’t at all what she’d meant to convey, but if he noticed he didn’t react.

“I’ve been trying to make a room full of grown men stop acting like spoiled children fighting over a toy sword.”

“It’s not going well, I take it?”