Page 19 of At the Sheikh's Pleasure
He swallowed hard and nodded.For the first time she thought she saw the real man behind the kingly facade.
“Not as sorry as me.”He shot her a fleeting smile before sucking in a deep breath.“She’s gone, but my love for her remains.It always will.No one can ever replace her.”
Her heart sank, and she sat back.The message had been received loud and clear.
“So, you will never marry.”
He shook his head.“No.I have no doubt that I will have a host of nieces and nephews to choose from as my heir.”
“Nieces?You might choose a niece?”
“Of course.My love for Galila showed me how powerful women are, and how wise.It would be indeed foolish of me to ignore a suitable woman.My wish for my country is to become stronger, more stable and peaceful.”
She was surprised again.Pleasedandsurprised.Obviously, the misogyny of her family and culture didn’t apply here, in Sifra, at least not to the king.
“She’s left a lasting legacy,” she added softly.
Zaire tapped his hands over his lips and then lowered them and smiled.“She has.Now, I believe I’ve done my share of confessions.It’s your turn.”
She raised an eyebrow, also relieved to have moved on from talking about emotions, an area she knew little about.“I suppose that’s only fair.What do you want to know?”
“What your passion is.”
She blinked lightly, firmly repressing the first thing which came to mind.
“What is it that drives you?”He asked again, obviously realizing her discomfort at the word ‘passion’.
“My work.”
“That’s what youdo.Not whatdrivesyou.”
She was silent for a few moments.No one had ever asked her that question before.Education was a goal on its own, right?But now he asked, it gave her pause for thought.
“I wanted to be educated.That is what I needed, what I wanted, what I couldn’t have in my country.That was what drove me.”
“And now?”
“Now, I…” she trailed off and shrugged, suddenly realizing what was at the bottom of her need to succeed.There was only one person whose image was conjured up in her mind when she thought of winning.“Now, I imagine how my father will see how wrong he was.”
“You want to prove your father wrong,” he said gently.
“I guess.I think I’ve been so focused, I hadn’t really thought of it like that.But I want him to see what I’ve become, what all women can become if they’re not treated like chattels—things to be bought and sold for political gain.”
He leaned forward.“You realize he will never understand, that he’ll never change his views.He’s not that kind of man.He’s not that kind of king.”
She blinked.“There’s always hope.”
“Have you heard what he’s doing now?My ministers advise me he’s sent women to jail for demonstrating about women’s rights.”
She gasped.She hadn’t heard.She jumped up and paced around.“I must go there.I must support them.”
He placed his hands firmly on her shoulders.“Rosana.Leave it.There’s nothing you can do—for now, at least.”She blinked back the tears, and he gently swiped away a rogue tear before it could trail down her cheek.“There’s nothing you can do,” he reiterated.
“Then I’ve failed.”
“You can’t right the wrongs of your father single-handedly.”
And then she looked up at him and forgot he was king, and an enemy of her family.It was all she could do not to reach out for him, the only person with whom she’d ever talked about her father, the only person who’d ever given her sympathy and advice.Advice which she knew, in her heart, was true.She blinked and his face seemed to become closer, as if she swayed toward him.She couldn’t have said if she had, until his palm cupped her cheek gently, and his eyes connected with hers in a way which made her heart melt.
