Kareef shifted in his chair.
She continued. “When I first arrived in New York at sixteen, I had nothing. No money. My only friend there was an elderly great-aunt, and she was ill. Not just ill—dying. In a rat-infested apartment.”
“I heard,” he said quietly. “Later.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, feeling a surge of bitterness. “I worked three jobs to support us both. Then,” she whispered, “out of the blue the month before she died, I got a check from my father for fifty thousand dollars. It saved us. I invested every penny, and gradually it paid off. But if not for him,” she said softly, “I might still be an office cleaner working sixteen hours a day.”
He picked up his glass, taking a sip of wine.
Jasmine frowned, tilting her head. “But when I tried to thank my father for that money today, he claimed not to know anything about it.”
Kareef stared idly at the ruby-colored wine, swirling it in the candlelight.
And suddenly, she knew.
“My father never sent that money, did he?”
He didn’t answer.
She sucked in her breath. “It was you,” she whispered. “You sent me that money ten years ago. Not my father. It was you.”
Pressing his lips together, he set down the glass. He gave a single hard nod.
“The letter said it was from my father.”
“I didn’t think you would accept it from me.”
“You’re right!”
“So I lied.”
“You…lied. Just like that?”
“I intended to send you more every year, but you never needed it.” Kareef’s voice held a tinge of pride as he looked at her. “You turned that first small amount into a fortune.”
“Why did you do it, Kareef?”
He turned to look at her. “Don’t you know?”
She shook her head.
Reaching over the table, he took her hand in his own. Turning it over, he kissed her palm.
A tremor racked her body, coursing through her like an electric current, lit up by the caress of his lips against her skin.
He looked up at her. His blue eyes were endless, like the sea in the flickering light. “Because you’re my wife, Jasmine.”
Silence filled the blue room, broken by sudden booms of fireworks outside, rattling the windowpanes.
She snatched back her hand. “No, I’m not!”
“You spoke the words,” he said evenly. “So did I.”
“It wasn’t legal. There were no witnesses.”
“It doesn’t matter, not according to the laws of Qais.”
“It would never hold up in the civil courts of Qusay.”
“We are married.”
Through the high arched windows, she saw fireworks lighting the dark sky. Struggling to collect her thoughts, she shook her head. “Abandonment could be considered reason for divorce—”
He looked at her. “Your abandonment?” he said quietly. “Or mine?”
She sucked in her breath. “I was forced to leave Qusay! It was never of my free will!”
He looked at her. “I had cause to leave you as well.”
Yeah. Right. Her eyes glittered at him. “We were barely more than children. We didn’t know what we were doing.”
As the explosions continued to spiral across the night sky, booming like thunder, he leaned forward and stroked her face.
“I knew,” he said in a low voice. “And so did you.”
The tension altered, humming with a hot awareness that coiled and stretched between them.
Her cheek sizzled where he stroked her. His gaze dropped to her mouth. She felt her body tighten. Her breasts suddenly ached, her nipples taut with longing.
No!
“If we once were married,” she choked out, “speak the words to undo it now. All I care about now…is my family.”
“And what of you?” he said, cupping her face in his strong hands. “What do you want for yourself?”
She wanted him to kiss her. Wanted it with every ounce of her blood and beat of her heart.
But she wouldn’t allow this insane desire to destroy the life that was finally within reach, the family life she hungered to have. She lifted her dark lashes to look into his eyes. “I want a home.” Her voice was as quiet as the whisper of memory. “A family. I want a husband and children of my own.”
A loud crash boomed in the night sky outside them, shaking the palace.
Kareef looked down at her, his eyes suddenly dark as a midnight sea. He dropped his hands from her face. “Umar Hajjar loves his children, his horses and his money—in that order,” he said harshly. “As his wife, you will be valued a distant fourth on his list.”
“He values my connections in America. He thinks I will be the perfect wife—the perfect hostess. That is enough.”
“Not enough for him.”
“What else could he want from me?”
He looked at her.
“You’re a beautiful woman,” he said thickly. “No man could resist you.”
She stared up at him for several heartbeats, then turned away, hiding her face.
“That’s not true,” she said in a low voice. “One man has had no trouble resisting me, Kareef.” She looked up. “You.”
He grabbed her wrist on the table. His fingers tightened on her skin. “You think I don’t want you?”
His voice was dangerous. Low. She felt tension snapping between them, rippling through her body, sharp against every nerve.
Her heart beat frantically in her chest. As he leaned toward her, she breathed in his masculine scent, laced with the flavor of wine and spice. His body, in all its strength and power, was so close to hers. She yearned to lean across the table, to lose everything in one moment of sweet madness and press her mouth against his.…
Another loud boom exploded outside. It broke the spell. Made her realize she was perilously close to doing something unforgivable.
Rising to her feet, she stumbled back from the table.
“Divorce me,” she whispered. “If you’ve ever cared about me, Kareef, if I was ever more than a warm body in the night to you…divorce me tonight.”
He stared at her, his jaw tight. Then he shook his head. Tears rose to her eyes and she fought them with all her might.
“You bastard,” she choked out. “You cold-hearted bastard. I’ve known for years you had no heart, but I never thought you could…never thought you would—”
But the tears were starting to fall from her lashes. Turning before he could see them, she shoved open the double doors. They banged loudly against the walls as she fled down the hallway.
“Jasmine! Stop!”
But she didn’t obey. She just ran.
Fireworks boomed