Page 35 of Seduced By the Sheikh

“You’ll have to divorce her,” Aabid said.

“No. No divorce. We don’t even have proof that her father knows the truth about her birth.”

Aabid raised an eyebrow. “Your mother knows. Do you really think she won’t tell someone who has the potential to destroy our trade negotiations? That would be precisely the kind of revenge your mother would enjoy!”

Zak stopped his pacing, and rubbed his eyes. He knew the vizier spoke the truth. He turned wearily to him. “He’ll disown Soraiya, won’t he?”

“Yes. Of course. You know King Qadir. If this is made public knowledge, which your mother will ensure, he will feel humiliated and he’ll take it out on Soraiya. And you. And you know the stipulation of Soraiya’s inheritance. You won’t get that now. Your mother has created chaos, just as she’s been wanting to do since you exiled her. You need to act quickly and decisively.”

“What do you advise?” Zak asked, knowing full well what his vizier would advise but hoping against hope that he’d hear something different.

“Divorce. There’s nothing else for it. You have the grounds—Soraiya isn’t who we were led to believe she is. You’ve been lumbered with a sheikha who brings you nothing except illegitimacy. And that’s of no use to a king. Yes, a quick divorce, and marriage to one of the other neighboring sheikha. You can take your pick. Of course, none of them will bring that piece of land, or the trade advantages allied with that, but at least they will be of royal blood and will bring other advantages. If you keep Soraiya, she’ll have brought nothing to your marriage. It would have been in vain. A useless match, and a humiliating one. You must take control and deal with the situation appropriately.”

Zak swore under his breath and paced away, pushing open the windows to allow in the evening air, cooler now from the mountains. He took a deep breath before turning back to his vizier. “I’m not divorcing her.”

“You will. You have to. You’re not a prince any longer, not someone who can choose to do what you wish. You are king and have broader responsibilities. You have to divorce her. If you don’t, you’ll be the laughingstock of our nation, our neighbors and our trading partners.”

“I won’t divorce her,” Zak ground out, practically face to face with the vizier. At last, Aabid must have realized that Zak was firm on this point, and he didn’t respond. Just threw up his hands and walked away.

“Just tell me why not? Do me the courtesy of explaining why you won’t get rid of this… this usurper. This cuckoo in the nest, this unwanted sheikha?”

“Because she is not unwanted.”

The vizier grunted. “Of course. After years of scandalous womanizing, leaving a trail of broken hearts behind you, you’ve chosen this time, this woman, to fall in love with. What wonderful timing.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Aabid.”

“I can state the facts in any number of ways, but it doesn’t change them. Of all the times to fall in love, that you should choose now, is like God playing a joke on us.”

“She is my wife. I didn’t say that I have fallen in love with her, merely that she is not unwanted.” Zak shrugged. “Anyway, it has nothing to do with choosing. It just happened. Soraiya is a woman who is impossible not to like.”

“Huh,” grunted the vizier. “Her father seems to have managed it. If only he loved her, then perhaps the inevitable wouldn’t happen. But he doesn’t, and it will.”

It was Zak’s turn to grunt dismissively. “The man is a monster.”

“Yes, we all know that. But unfortunately, this monster is the father of your wife, and will not only disown his daughter, but also make sure she doesn’t inherit the land upon which the success of the French trade negotiations depends.” The vizier sighed. “Your Highness, you must face facts. Her Royal Highness is no longer a suitable match for you.”

“Maybe. But it’s too late. I may be a womanizer, and all the other things of which you accuse me, Aabid, but I have honor. And I would never divorce her, even if I didn’t respect and admire her. But I do. I was forced into a marriage with Soraiya, and I discovered she is not only a remarkable woman, but she is one it appears I cannot do without. I intend she will always be in my life. And that is an end to the matter.”

Zak glanced at his watch. He’d left Soraiya long enough. He’d leave his vizier to mull over what he’d said and hopefully come up with a Plan B. Because there was no way Plan A was going to happen if he had anything to do with it.

It was very late by the time Zak returned to their room. Soraiya was in bed, with the only lights coming from the window. Black and white. Shadows and moonlight. It seemed the world could be reduced to such simplicity.

Yes. No.

Stay. Leave.

She watched him undress, quietly get into bed, and lie on his back, looking up at the ceiling. She wasn’t aware that he’d even looked across at her to see if she was awake or asleep. Yet another binary state.

Her heart hurt with the pain of the division which had torn right through their happiness. Lying there, waiting for him, she’d hoped against hope all that had been said and done between them over the past few months of their marriage had meant something, had created something which his mother, and her father, couldn’t destroy. But, as she lay there waiting for him to make a move towards her, say something—anything—she realized he could do nothing but reject her. It would be madness not to divorce her. And her husband wasn’t mad.

“I’m sorry,” she said at last, needing to break the silence, to reach out and connect with him. “I’m so sorry.”

He turned to her then, and she sensed the heaviness of his spirit. But she couldn’t read his eyes in the dim light. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for. This isn’t your fault.”

“No, but it seems I’m no longer good for you or for Sirun. And I’m so sorry about that.” She just got out the words before a lump formed in her throat.

He turned to look back at the ceiling. “Again, you do not need to apologize.”

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