The Sheikh's Claim. Оливия Гейтс

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ His confidence in his ownership of her body. If he went after her now, he’d have her begging for him again. But her antipathy seemed to be real. He had no idea what he had done to earn it. But whatever she thought he had done might change everything. It might explain why she’d left him.

      It was almost an hour before she exited the bathroom glowing, remote and dressed. He’d also dressed. He knew their mindless interlude should not be repeated. Not until he knew what was going on.

      He stood there as she stopped before him, eyes devoid of expression. “I’m sorry I said I hate you. It’s not true.”

      His heart unfurled from the tight knot it had become, the broken pieces mending. Something warm fluttered inside it as he moved closer.

      Her next words froze it solid, shot it down like a bullet would a bird in flight.

      “It’s worse than that. I hate myself when I’m with you. I hate what I do, what I think, what I feel. What I am. Patrick taught me that I’m better than that—that I don’t have to ever feel this way again. I was certain I’d never do this. But you’re like an incurable disease. One exposure, and I relapse. There’s only one way I’ll stop being reinfected. I won’t let you come near me again. If you try, I’ll make you regret it.”

      The lash of her antipathy sliced open the dam of his accumulated, if briefly forgotten, bitterness.

      He moved away from her, as if to escape the searing disappointment, heard himself taunting, “You mean more than I already regret coming here and exposing myself to your virulence again? Not possible. So save your threats and theatrics, Lujayn. It will be a snowy day in my ‘backward region’ before I come near you again.”

      He didn’t only regret coming after her—he despised his stupidity for being unable to hate her, even now, for succumbing to his weakness, taking her right in her marital bed, then not being the one who came to his senses first, or at all.

      At the door he turned, and the look on her face had his heartache boiling over. It wasn’t just over, she didn’t only hate him now—she always had.

      It had been an illusion, a sham.

      More harshness spilled from his lips, the only shield he found so the icy shards of her rejection wouldn’t hack his heart to pieces all over again. “Thanks, by the way. You gave me exactly what I came for. The certainty that you’re not worth another thought. Now I can delete you from my memory.”

      He walked away then, the relief that this retaliation had provided already evaporating, despondence seeping in its place, settling into his recesses. For it was another lie. No matter that he now knew nothing they’d shared had been real, he knew the memory of her would never relinquish its hold over him….

      Two

       The present

      “…the memory of this day will burn bright for the rest of my days, with the blessing and wonder of your love and belief, your very existence. I, Haidar Aal Shalaan, pledge my life to you, Roxanne, owner of my heart …”

      Jalal hit Pause, his chest tight as he watched the power of love radiating from the two faces frozen on the screen.

      He’d never believed in miracles. But there was no denying he’d watched one unfold in real time. Had been replaying it on video over and over again. His twin’s wedding ceremony. He’d watched that specific part, when they’d made their unrehearsed vows, for the umpteenth time. Today.

      Each time had only ratcheted up his reaction to the sight of Haidar staring with such profound adoration into the eyes of his weeping bride, of hearing him, then her, commit to a lifetime of unity and allegiance, body and soul.

      He was fiercely happy for both of them. The twin who felt like an extension of his own life force, and the woman who felt of his own flesh and blood, too. But seeing them, feeling them, bound together in abiding love forever, inflicted something besides joy. It made him feel even more acutely that gaping emptiness in his core. One he knew would never be filled.

      He’d once thought he’d had a chance of having something approaching what Haidar and Roxanne had. With Lujayn, the one woman he’d wanted with all he had. But even when they’d been lost to passion in each other’s arms, he’d felt something missing. Now he knew what it was. That. That connection. That alliance. That totality of acceptance, agreement and appreciation.

      The extent of the deficiency had been driven home to him during the past years as his brothers had found their soul mates. But it had taken Haidar and Roxanne to solidify the realization. He’d now seen and felt what completeness was like.

      He hadn’t had anything like it with Lujayn. But then how could he have? It took two to progress to that level of intimacy. She’d been unwilling to move beyond a certain threshold. She hadn’t wanted intimacy, she’d wanted wealth and status.

      He saw that now. At the time he’d thought any issues had been due to the intermittent nature of their relationship, dictated by their hectic schedules and living on different sides of the world. But the truth had been that, beyond sex, she hadn’t really wanted him. She’d only wanted him to propose.

      He’d bet she would have kept trying if another opportunity, almost as big a catch, hadn’t presented itself.

      He hit Stop. The screen went black—as black as his thoughts.

      He wouldn’t see it again. There was no point in replaying the living, breathing example of what he’d never have. He’d have a lifetime of experiencing it in real life.

      He rose and threw down the remote. It took him seconds to get his bearings, to remember where this sitting room opened onto the veranda. He’d rented so many houses in the past two years that he regularly woke up not knowing immediately where he was, or even in which country.

      Ever since his mother’s conspiracy had been exposed and the scandal had rocked the region, he’d been roaming the globe. His father and half brothers, Amjad, Harres and Shaheen, insisted that no one associated Haidar and him to her crimes. But he felt tainted by them anyway. He’d felt worse when he’d clashed with Haidar over that mess, and ended up placing the lion’s share of the blame on him. He’d driven Haidar to say he felt he no longer had a twin.

      That breach had been resolved, thankfully, and he no longer felt sundered forever from his other half. But though he felt whole now that their relationship was regaining the closeness they’d once shared as children, that wholeness was still … hollow.

      He walked across the marble-spread veranda and stopped at the cut-stone balustrade, looking out at the desert to a horizon that seemed farther away than ever.

      What was he doing here?

      Why was he trying to claim the throne of this land?

      So it was up for grabs after the now former king of Azmahar, his maternal uncle, had abdicated after a public outcry and all his heirs had met with the same rejection. Just as his mother had almost destroyed Zohayd, her family had taken Azmahar to the edge of destruction, too. He’d thought he’d be lumped in with his maternal family as the last people Azmahar would want near the throne again. So he’d been shocked when those representing a third of the kingdom’s population had demanded he be their candidate. They’d insisted he wasn’t tainted by his family’s history and had the power and experience СКАЧАТЬ