The Sultan's Choice by Abby Green Page B

Sadiq’s face. ‘My own father paraded his mistresses in front of my mother, and I always vowed not to disrespect a wife like that. It turned my mother into a recluse.’
    A wife.
So impersonal. Did he regard her as just
a wife?
As if she even needed that question answered. Of course he did. And why did that suddenly not feel okay to her?
    Wanting to avoid that line of questions and answers, she asked, ‘You didn’t get on with your father?’
    Sadiq’s mouth twisted and he looked at her coolly, someindefinable emotion flashing across his face. ‘Not exactly, no. He was an angry man for much of the time, for various reasons. And he took that anger out on my mother—and me—when it suited him.’
    Samia had an immediate sense of a small boy being neglected and hated, and her heart contracted at that image. She wondered if that anger had ever turned physical. She’d got used to avoiding her stepmother’s free hands and could sense that Sadiq too had become adept at getting out of harm’s way. This hint of vulnerability was making all sorts of flutters take off in Samia’s belly, and she longed to ask him more, but couldn’t. He was already looking as if he regretted saying anything, and she was just beginning to realise how little he revealed of himself at all.
    ‘Does your mother live with you?’
    Sadiq nodded. ‘She has her own quarters in the castle. You’ll meet her when you come to B’harani before the wedding to settle in.’
    Samia’s belly tensed. Her eyes darted away from his intense gaze. That blue that seemed to sear right through her. She fiddled with the ring on her wedding finger, unused to its heavy weight.
    ‘What if …?’ She trailed off. What Samia really wanted to ask was what if she didn’t please him in bed? How could he honestly say then that he wouldn’t take a mistress? But instead she said, ‘What if we have problems with children … getting pregnant?’
    ‘Then I would divorce you and marry again.’
    The speed of his response and its stark finality made Samia look at him again. Her mouth opened and shut. She was not sure at all how she felt about that, and was not liking the feeling. Finally she got out, ‘What if it’s
you
that has the problem?’
    He smiled tightly. ‘It won’t be me.’
    His insufferable arrogance made Samia sit up straight in her seat. ‘Well, of course it could be you. Not even you can tell the future. You might be the Sultan but—’
    ‘I
know.’
He cut her off. ‘I’ve had medical tests and there’s no evidence that there should be problems.’
    Samia’s mouth closed. ‘But … why would you doubt your ability to have children?’
    Sadiq sat back in his seat and a muscle twitched in his jaw. ‘When you tell me who it was that nurtured your lack of confidence, and why you can’t look at yourself in the mirror, then I’ll tell you why I believed it necessary to get checked out.’
    Stalemate. No way was Samia going to open herself up to his pity and mockery.
    He was grim. ‘I didn’t think so.’ He stood up then and loomed tall across the table. ‘I have business to attend to in my study, if you’ll excuse me?’
    Samia half stood too, her mind whirling. He sounded accusatory, as if angry with her for bringing up these issues. ‘Of course …’
    He stopped at the door and turned back. ‘When we arrive in London in the morning we’re going to give a press conference to announce the marriage, so wear something suitable.’ His mouth quirked as he obviously saw the terror dawn on Samia’s face. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll do the talking. You just have to stand there and look like you’re not walking the plank.’
    As they stood in front of the world’s media the next morning, Sadiq’s arm was tight around Samia’s waist. She was tucked in to his side and tense enough to crack. Cameras flashed and questions were hurled out in about five different languages. Sadiq of course replied in kind, and with himby her side, she had to admit