Читать книгу Special Deliveries: Heir To His Legacy - Elizabeth Lane - Страница 15

STRATEGY WAS IMPORTANT when it came to doing battle with the enemy. Whether the enemy was a super soldier, hell-bent on destroying you and your people, or a petite redhead with an affinity for whiteboards.

Yes, strategy was always important.

Sayid surveyed the room, lined with heavy wooden bookshelves that were now filled with books pertaining to physics and other sciences. There were work spaces, a large table put there expressly for the purpose of spreading several of the large, shelved books out onto its surface. A desk in the corner with a new laptop docked to a large monitor on it. And whiteboards. Whiteboards, he knew, were a key point in this tactical maneuver.

Where most rooms in the palace spoke of the old world, this one was sleek, modern and filled with every convenience Chloe could ever ask for.

Ultimately, this little show of bribery was just to make things easier. He knew what Chloe would say already. Knew it because she had shown her hand. Had revealed to him just how important staying was to her.

He had followed every rule of combat to the letter. He had found the weakness, he had taken hold of the power, and now he was ready to exploit it.

“You wanted to see me?”

Chloe walked into the room, scanning her surroundings slowly. Her movements were slow. Cautious. Suspicious. Good. Perhaps she was a bit more savvy when it came to protecting herself than he’d given her credit for.

He found it more of an asset than he might have thought. But then, the sheikha of Attar would have to be savvy. Particularly when she was living a lie.

“Yes,” he said, “I did.”

“In regard to?”

“Your request earlier.”

“The one you flatly denied?”

“The very one. I had some time to reconsider.”

She clasped her hands in front of her. She looked very pale, her frame delicate, small. But there was steel in her eyes, a strength he had underestimated. His mistake. She had shown her steel. The way she’d kept Aden, cared for him, concealed him out of concern for his safety.

Sayid had seen the emotion as pure weakness, but there was steel beneath it. Still, the depth of her caring for Aden put her at his mercy, and he would not hesitate to use his position to get what he wanted.

“And have you reconsidered?” she asked.

“As it happens, I have.”

She froze for a moment, total shock evident on her face. “You have?”

He nodded. “You were right. Aden needs more than I can give him. I’m not someone who is going to spend time in the nursery. Not the type of man who would ever throw a ball around in the garden with a child. I’m not going to get excited over poorly drawn pictures or hang finger paintings on the wall in my office, and I will not insult you by pretending otherwise.”

“Is this supposed to be encouraging in some way?”

“I am,” he said, walking toward her, “acknowledging that your help will be needed in Aden’s upbringing.”

Chloe’s knees started shaking and she gripped the back of one of the plush chairs in front of her to keep from revealing it. “That’s… good.”

“I thought you would see that.”

“Of course I do, I suggested it.”

Sayid’s dark eyes met hers. “In a sense. But the situation, the concerns, I pointed out earlier have not changed. If we are to ensure that the fiction of Aden’s birth remains intact, then there are certain safeguards we need in place.”

“What kind of safeguards?” She didn’t like his tone. It was so smooth, so practiced, and beneath it, a layer of darkness that seemed to coat her, make her tremble with fear and something more. Something she couldn’t put a name to. Something she didn’t want to put a name to.

She hated that it was his darkness that compelled her so. That his darkness drew her, a black flame that she wanted to touch, even knowing what the outcome would be. This was why she’d always avoided men. Why she’d never had a relationship.

“The press has made it plain that they do not think I am fit to raise Aden. Rashid and I were hardly raised by our own parents. Though, Rashid more than I. I rarely lived in the palace, my education taking me elsewhere, my uncle Kalid taking the largest portion of responsibility for my upbringing. However, Rashid married a Western woman. One who had already started changing the way things were done, breaking down the formal social constructs that existed for a thousand years. And no one was sorry to see them go.”

“Tamara would have never let Aden out of her sight, much less out of the palace to be handled only by staff.”

“Precisely.”

“That’s one reason it’s so important for me to stay. To honor her wishes.”

“With all respect for my late sister-in-law, who, though you might find this hard to believe, I had a great deal of admiration for, it is not her wishes that concern me.”

“No?”

“No. Have you seen what they write about me?” he asked.

“Who?”

“The reporters. The Attari news, the world news. Have you seen?”

“No.”

“Man without a heart, they say. A man with no skills in negotiation. One who will make Attar look like nothing more than a military country, lacking in the kind of diplomacy that is so essential in this age. They hate me, Chloe. And under such circumstances, how can I lead?”

“Maybe you should smile more.”

He affected the expression. “That would help, you think?”

She looked at him and grimaced. “No. You still don’t look very friendly.”

“It cannot continue.”

She knew he didn’t mean the smile. “I didn’t think you cared about your image.”

“I don’t. But if this continues, if we start to look too frayed to the outside world… we will become vulnerable to it. We must present a front of absolute unification for our enemies. If there is dissent from within, we will rot from within, and rest assured, the countries we share borders with will happily take advantage of our weakness and watch us crumble.”

He spoke with ferocity, intensity, his dark eyes boring into hers.

“And how do you propose to do that?” she asked, knowing as soon as she asked the question that she wasn’t going to like the answer.

“I intend to propose,” he said, cold humor twisting his lips into a smile that held no warmth or hint of happiness.

“What exactly do you mean by that?”

“It’s very simple, Chloe James. I intend to take you as my wife.”

Chloe felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach, all the air leaching from her body, making her gasp. “What?”

“Not a real wife, you understand. This is about presenting the image of a family to the people. If I am meant to raise Aden as my own, my wife will be expected to treat him as her own. You want to stay, you want that role, so I am giving it to you.”

“But… you want me to marry you?”

“I don’t want you to marry me, I want to protect Aden and give the people what they expect, give them an image that will bring comfort.”

Chloe felt as though her heart was trying to claw its way up her throat. Failing that, she was certain it would beat through her chest. She knew all about marriage. About the dynamic between a husband and wife. About what a man did when he saw a woman as his property.

She knew that not every man was abusive. That not every marriage was marked by violence. She knew it, but in her head, it was all she could see.

The word husband brought forward visions of her father venting his rage on her mother, the woman laying on the floor as he continued to hit her. Kick her. And on the wall behind them was their wedding portrait, the bride in white, smiling lovingly at the man who was now trying to wring the life out of her with his hands.

It was a vision that was with her always, this scene of extreme violence and suffering. It was, now and forever her strongest association with the words husband and wife.

“We won’t have to stay married forever.”

“Just until Aden assumes the throne?” she asked, her tone incredulous.

“Yes. Just until then.”

“So only sixteen years of my life spent married to a man that I don’t even like?”

“I’m spending sixteen years in a position that I don’t want, until Aden is ready to rule. I understand that this isn’t your country, that your loyalty isn’t the same as mine. But your loyalty is to Aden, isn’t it? To giving him what your sister wanted him to have?”

Her heart felt as if it was being torn in two. Visions of her future burning before her, turning to ash and floating away on the wind. And she had to let them burn, along with her fear, because the only other option was leaving Aden behind. Visiting when she could, and otherwise going on with her life as though it hadn’t changed forever.

She couldn’t do that. Had come to that conclusion already.

“Does it have to be marriage? I am Tamara’s half sister. I’m Aden’s aunt. It’s entirely possible that I would move into the palace for those reasons alone.”

“For a while, yes. But until he’s a grown man?”

“Well, I don’t consider sixteen a grown man…”

“In Attar it is different,” he said, his tone hard and cold as ice.

If she left, this was Aden’s family. His closest family. There would be no warmth from his uncle.

“It would just be a legal marriage, right?”

He nodded once. “I have no desire for a wife. And it is traditional for the royal couple to have separate quarters.”

“Rashid and Tamara didn’t.”

“They were unusual. Theirs was a love match, and Tamara’s American sensibilities colored the way they did things.”

“Rashid never struck me as being very traditional.”

“He wasn’t. It was one reason he gravitated to Tamara.”

“But we…”

“We will be a traditional Attari couple. It will be no hardship. In fact, it will come as little surprise that you’re the woman I select as my queen. You demonstrated bravery, the desire to protect Aden at all costs. Love is not always a factor in marriages here, particularly not royal marriages. No one will expect it.”

Chloe swallowed hard, the earlier image of her parents branded in her mind. “Can I think about it?”

“Of course.” He looked at her as though he expected thinking about it would only take a few moments of her time.

“Not with you watching me.”

“It is quite clear-cut. The only thing you’re finding difficult is your emotional connection to the idea of marriage. And I have no such emotional idea. About marriage or anything else.”

“I’m sure you don’t. But it’s not just that…” She looked up at him, his eyes boring into hers, gripping her, holding her. Stealing her words.

“You’ll be able to finish your schooling. I spoke to the president of the university about you continuing on in your studies from Attar, and I provided you with this space so that you could work easily.”

Anger came to her rescue, demolishing the fear, demolishing the strange attraction that seemed to pull her to him. “You… you what?”

“There is no need to thank me.”

“I’m not going to thank you! You called the president of the university? And you told him I would be completing my studies from here without even speaking to me?”

“You told me you wanted to stay already.”

“And you told me no.”

“And I changed my mind when I found the solution to the problem.”

Chloe felt as if her head might explode. “But I didn’t agree to anything.”

“Naturally, Chloe, we both know you will say yes. You want to be with Aden and this is the most practical way to go about it. This is the best thing. The best way for me to keep the nation whole, intact until Aden takes the throne.”

“You don’t know that I’ll say yes,” she said.

“Yes, I do. And when I told Dr. Schultz that you were staying here to marry me and become the sheikha of Attar he was naturally very supportive.”

“You told him I was going to marry you?” She put her hands on her face and started pacing. “Oh… I’m going to have a stroke.”

“No, you aren’t.”

Her head snapped back up. “Oh? I’m not? Well, I guess you would know since you seem to know exactly what I’m going to do at all times. Do you have any more brilliant insights into me for me? Oh, all powerful Sheikh, please reveal to me, the poor, little, feebleminded woman, my desires.”

“You are being overdramatic now, Chloe.”

“I am not. I am being exactly as dramatic as the situation demands.”

“What is the difference between you living here in a room in the palace, and you living here in a room in the palace with a title and a marriage certificate? Practically, for you, there will be very little difference.”

“Marriage honestly means nothing to you?”

“It is nothing more than a social construct. Without emotion or obligation to remain faithful, why should it mean anything? I do not want a wife, and you certainly won’t be filling the position. You will be here for Aden, which will be to your benefit. And you will be here for public events, which, I will not lie, will be for mine. But I will require nothing from you in terms of what a man wants from a wife. I don’t need a place in your bed, neither do I wish for you to give me children.”

“Good, because I don’t want that stuff, either.” She ignored the little kick that went through her body at the mention of being in bed together. Ignored it so well it was almost as if it hadn’t happened. Because it didn’t mean anything. Nothing at all. “I can’t believe you. You arrogant, controlling…”

“Decisive,” he finished. “I am decisive. You said what you wanted and I set out to find a solution that would work. More than work, I have found one that will benefit us both. I suggest you thank me, rather than verbally abusing me.”

“I think your ego can stand it.”

“I don’t have an ego, Chloe. I see things as they are, as they need to be in order to work. It’s not about ego, it’s about knowing my place in life and ensuring that I meet every obligation. I will do it for Aden and when you are my wife, I will do it for you.”

When, not if.

Chloe felt as though she was breaking apart inside. Like the world, the world she knew anyway, had cracked and was shattering around her, taking away any sense of certainty, any idea of where the right path was.

She was standing in the dark, wishing she had a lantern so she could find her way.

But she had a feeling there was no right way. Not now. There was only the way that would hurt the least, the way she could best manage.

If only she knew for certain which direction that was. Because one choice would lead her back to Oregon, back to her life as she’d planned it since she was a teenager. But it would lead her away from Aden.

And the other way would lead her straight into the lion’s den. Straight into the thing she feared the most.

But she would be here. Would be with her child.

And he really could be hers. No more holding herself slightly at a distance to keep herself from breaking.

She swallowed, fear, grief, making her throat tight, making it hard to breathe.

And in the darkness, she saw the light. It came with an image of Aden. Because in that instance she realized that out of every desire she had, that one would never lessen. The connection with him would never fade.

Jobs would change, what she wanted in terms of work would change. The people in her life would come and go. She would move out of her apartment, and lose her attachment to the old one. She would complete her doctorate and find new, more challenging goals.

But no matter what changed in that part of her life, no matter where her priorities shifted to, her love for Aden would remain. It would be the constant, no matter what she was surrounded by. And if she chose to leave, the grief, the pain at being separated, would be the companion to that love.

She couldn’t bear it. Couldn’t bear the idea of embracing ephemeral, temporary things for the one connection she had that had ever felt real. Permanent. For the only family she had.

It was more than even that now, more than just a desire for her family. Aden was her son. No matter what the truth might be genetically, the truth of her emotions was that he was nothing other than her own child.

“All right, Sayid, I will marry you,” she said, the words getting stuck in her throat.

There was no look of victory on his face, no sense of triumph, just a single nod, his expression remaining as cold and unreadable as ever. “And I will have it arranged. The sooner the better.”

He turned and strode from the room, leaving her standing there, surrounded by books and whiteboards. That at least was a familiar comfort.

A part of her had always feared marriage, but in that vision, she’d been weak. Clinging to the man she called husband, as her mother had done.

No, that wouldn’t be her life. Because in order for a man to have that kind of power over her, she would have to love him. And she didn’t love Sayid. She never would.

More than that, he would never feel any passion toward her.

There was no emotion in him, and in that there was safety.

Sayid was as cold as ice. And she welcomed that. Clung to the safety in his lack of emotion.

As long as there was no passion, there would be no danger.