Gulping down some water in an attempt to ground herself to planet earth again, Ruby was surprised by the will power she had to muster simply to drag her gaze from his darkly handsome features and she said in an almost defiant tone, ‘That’s completely crazy.’
The prince angled his proud dark head in a position that signified unapologetic disagreement. ‘Far from it. It is at present the only effective route to reconciliation which can be undertaken without either country losing face.’ As he made that statement his classic cheekbones were taut with tension, accentuating the smooth planes of the olive-tinted skin stretched over his superb bone structure.
‘Obviously I can see that nobody with a brain would want the war to kick off again,’ Ruby cut in ruefully, more shaken than she was prepared to admit by the serious nature of Ashur’s plight. She had not appreciated how grave the problems might be and even though the ruling family of her birth country had refused to acknowledge her existence, she was ashamed of the level of her ignorance.
‘Precisely, and that is where our role comes in,’ Raja imparted smoothly. ‘Ashur can only accept my country’s economic intervention if it comes wrapped in the reassurance of a traditional royal marriage.’
Ruby nodded in comprehension, her expression carefully blank as she asked what was for her the obvious question. ‘So what’s going to happen when this marriage fails to take place?’
In the dragging silence that fell in receipt of that leading query, his brilliant dark eyes narrowed and his lean, strong face took on a forbidding aspect. ‘As the marriage was an established element of the peace accord, many will argue that if no marriage takes place the agreement has broken down and hostilities could easily break out again. Our families are well respected. Given the right approach, we could act as a unifying force and our people would support us in that endeavour for the sake of a lasting peace.’
‘And you’re willing to sacrifice your own freedom for the sake of that peace?’ Ruby asked, wearing a dubious expression.
‘It is not a choice. It is a duty,’ Raja pronounced with a fluid shift of his beautifully shaped fingers. He said more with his hands than with his tongue, Ruby decided, for that eloquent gesture encompassed his complete acceptance of a sacrifice he clearly saw as unavoidable.
Ruby surveyed him steadily before saying without hesitation, ‘I think that’s a load of nonsense. How can you be so accepting of your duty?’
Raja breathed in deep and slow before responding to her challenge. ‘As a member of the royal family I have led a privileged life and I was brought up to appreciate that what is best for my country should be my prime motivation.’
Unimpressed by that zealous statement, Ruby rolled her eyes in cynical dismissal. ‘Well, I haven’t led a privileged life and I’m afraid I don’t have that kind of motivation to fall back on. I’m not sure I can believe that you do, either.’
Under rare attack for his conservative views and for the depth of his sincerity, Raja squared his broad shoulders, his lean, dark features setting hard. He was offended but determined to keep his emotions in check. He suspected that the real problem was that Ruby rarely thought before she spoke and he virtually never met with challenge or criticism. ‘Meaning?’
‘Did you fight in the war?’ Ruby prompted suddenly.
‘Yes.’
Ruby’s appetite ebbed and she rested back in her chair, milk-chocolate eyes telegraphing her contempt in a look that her quarry was not accustomed to receiving.
His tough jaw line clenched. ‘That is the reality of war.’
‘And now you think you can buy your way out of that reality by marrying me and becoming a saviour where you were once the aggressor?’ Ruby fired back with a curled lip as she pushed away her plate. ‘Sorry, I have no intention of being a pawn in a power struggle or of helping you to come to terms with your conscience. I’d like to leave now.’
On a wave of angry frustration Raja studied her truculent little face, his glittering eyes hostile. ‘You haven’t listened to me—’
Confident of her own opinion, Ruby lifted her chin in direct challenge of that charge. ‘On the contrary, I’ve listened and I’ve heard as much as I need to hear. I can’t be the woman you want me to be. I’m not a princess and I have no desire to sacrifice myself for the people or the country that broke my mother’s heart.’
At that melodramatic response, Raja only just resisted the urge to groan out loud. ‘You’re talking like a child.’
A red-hot flush ran up to the very roots of Ruby’s pale hair. ‘How dare you?’ she ground out, outraged.
‘I dare because I need you to think like an adult to deal with this dilemma. You may be prejudiced against the country where you were born but don’t drag up old history as an excuse—’
‘There’s nothing old about the way I grew up without a father,’ Ruby argued vehemently, starting to rise from her chair in tune with her rapidly rising temper. ‘Or the fact that he married another woman while he was still married to my mum! If that’s what you call prejudice then I’m not ashamed to own up to it!’
‘Lower your voice and sit down!’ the prince ground out in a biting undertone.
Ruby was so stunned by that command that she instinctively fell back into her seat and stared across the table at him with a shaken frown of disbelief that he could think he had the right to order her around. ‘Don’t speak to me like that—’
‘Then calm down and think of those less fortunate than you are.’
‘It still won’t make me willing to marry a stranger, who would marry a dancing bear if he was asked!’ Ruby shot back at him angrily.
‘What on earth are you trying to suggest?’ Raja demanded, dark eyes blazing like angry golden flames above them.
More than ready to tell him what she thought of him, Ruby tossed down her napkin with a positive flourish. ‘Did you think that I would be too stupid to work out what you’re really after?’ she asked him sharply. ‘You want the throne in Ashur and I’m the only way you have of getting it! Without me and a ring on my finger, you get nothing!’
Subjecting her to a stunned look of proud incredulity, Raja watched with even greater astonishment as Ruby plunged upright, abandoned their meal and stalked away, hair flying, narrow back rigid, skirt riding up on those slender shapely thighs. Had she no manners? No concept of restraint in public places? She actually believed that he wanted the throne in Ashur? Was that her idea of a joke? She had no grasp of realities whatsoever. He was the future hereditary ruler of one of the most sophisticated and rich countries in the Persian Gulf, he did not need to rule Ashur, as well.
A brisk walk of twenty minutes brought Ruby back to work. A little breathless and flustered after the time she had had to consider that fiery exchange over lunch, she was still trying to decide whether or not she had been unfair in her assessment of Prince Raja. Waiting on her desktop for her attention was a pile of work, however, and her head was already aching from the stress of the information he had dumped on her.
At spare moments during the afternoon that followed she mulled over what she had learned about her birth country’s predicament. It was not her fault all that had happened between Ashur and Najar, was it? But if Raja was correct and the peace broke down over the reality that their marriage and therefore the planned unification of the two countries did not take place, how would she feel about things then? That was a much less straightforward question and Ruby resolved to do some Internet research that evening to settle the questions she needed answered.
While Stella was cooking a late dinner, Ruby lifted the laptop the two young women shared, let Hermione curl up by her feet and sought information on the recent events in Ashur. Unfortunately a good