night thinking rather than sleeping, angrily confronting the issue that Polly’s arrival with the ring had created and coming to terms with his own position. And the truth of what he should be doing had soon faced him. There was no choice. She was the woman his people wished him to marry. No other woman could even hope to fit into a legend. In reality he did not wish to marry at all but that was his problem, scarcely the problem of the people he ruled. His sense of duty, moreover, was strong. He would not be a selfish ruler like his father; he would put his people first and foremost in his life. It would be a challenge to remarry even though he could see decided advantages to marrying Polly, whom he, at least, desired. He believed that choosing an unknown wife from a photograph, basing the decision on her heritage and what others with a vested interest said about her, would be much more likely to lead to a dissatisfactory marriage. After all, at least he had got to meet Polly and draw his own conclusions...
Rashad’s eyes were surrounded by the blackest, thickest, longest lashes she had ever seen on a man, Polly was acknowledging giddily, briefly wondering why every cutting edge in his lean dark features was set so hard, from his exotic cheekbones to his aggressive jawline, lending a tough, angry edge to his face. Assuming that that could only be a misapprehension on her part, she savoured the truth that he was still drop-dead beautiful in a way she had never known a man could be.
It was a serious challenge to drag her attention away from either his lean, darkly handsome features or his tall, powerfully muscled body. Indeed the sheer pull of Rashad’s erotic allure thoroughly unsettled Polly because she could now feel and recognise the desire he incited in her and it was like nothing she had ever felt in her life before. That physical hunger that she had tried and failed to feel with other men was much more powerful and all-consuming than she had expected.
‘I had you brought out here to the oasis so that I could ask you to marry me,’ Rashad informed her levelly.
‘But we’re strangers!’ Polly exclaimed in disbelief, totally unable to understand what he had just said and take it seriously.
‘No, we are not. I already know much more about you than I would know about a bride I chose from a photograph...which, by the way, is my only other option,’ Rashad admitted, choosing to tell her that unattractive truth. ‘An arranged marriage would be considered normal for a man in my position although the practice has died out in our society. I’ve already had one arranged marriage and I don’t want another—’
‘You’ve already had one? You’ve been married before?’ Polly whispered in wonderment, because she knew he was only thirty-one years old.
‘I was married at sixteen—’
‘I’m sorry but I think that’s...barbaric,’ she muttered helplessly. ‘You were far too young—’
‘We both were but those were more dangerous times and alliances had to be made and marriage was how it was done,’ Rashad explained. ‘I had no choice and I would very much prefer to have a choice this time.’
‘But you said you felt trapped by your people’s expectations,’ Polly reminded him, dancing round the whole topic of his proposal rather than actually getting to grips with it because she just couldn’t comprehend the enormity of what he was suggesting. ‘Now you say you want to meet those expectations—’
‘Why not? They chose you but I choose you too,’ Rashad murmured huskily, his dark eyes flashing gold over her intent and expressive face. ‘I want you.’
And his earthy appraisal left her in no doubt of what he was referring to. That hungry sensation surged and pulsed along her nerve endings and flipped her tummy over to leave her breathless. Her skin flushed, her body coming alive, and she shut her eyes because she could no longer withstand the intensity of his hot gaze.
‘And you want me,’ Rashad told her with maddening confidence.
Polly’s eyes opened and her hands knotted into fists. ‘I think you’ve—’
‘No, don’t fight me...it turns me on and if you do that I can’t promise to keep my hands off you as I should,’ Rashad framed in a roughened tone of warning.
‘It turns you on...’ Polly repeated in wonderment.
‘Because nobody ever fights or argues with me. You can have no idea how boring that becomes,’ Rashad admitted grimly.
In possession of a very sparky and forceful sister, Polly almost disagreed because she could not imagine finding pleasure in the apparently stimulating effect of dissension. Instead she said nothing, she simply shook her head. ‘Sexual attraction is not a good basis for marriage—’
‘It is for me,’ Rashad countered without hesitation. ‘I am convinced that you would make me the perfect wife.’
‘But nobody’s perfect!’
‘More perfect than flawed,’ Rashad qualified smoothly. ‘The discovery that you have Dharian blood in your veins only adds to your appeal. This is your world now as much as it is mine and you have a family who will love and support you here.’
Polly bent her head down to escape the temptation of his glittering dark eyes. It was a powerful argument to know that there was another world and another family for her to explore. Apart from her sister she had never had a caring family to lean on, which was why Hakim’s welcome had meant so much to her. She wanted to get to know that family and their culture, she wanted to spend time with them, which, with the cost of travel set against her low salary, would be very difficult once she returned home as scheduled at the end of the week.
‘There would be advantages and disadvantages to marrying me,’ Rashad outlined with dry practicality. ‘I do not believe you would be unduly influenced by my wealth but as my wife you would be very rich. On the other hand, you would lose the freedom to do and say exactly as you wish because royals are expected to behave according to protocol. Sometimes that protocol feels stifling but it is there for our protection.’
Polly flushed very pink because although he had said he hoped she would not be unduly influenced by his wealth, her mind had immediately flown to the good she could do with more money and she was mortified by that embarrassing moment of unwelcome self-truth. But poor Ellie was steeped in student debt and struggling and would be for many more years to come. Moreover, both sisters were desperately keen to trace their missing youngest sister, Penelope, and get to know her, but the hiring of a private detective was utterly beyond their financial means at present. She swallowed hard, ashamed of her thoughts and deciding that money had to be, in truth, the root of all evil and temptation.
‘What happened to your first wife?’ she asked him abruptly to escape those shameful thoughts of wealth and what she could do with it.
‘Ferah contracted blood poisoning from a snake bite and died five years ago,’ Rashad revealed in a harshened undertone. ‘She did not receive medical attention quickly enough.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured automatically because her mind was reeling under the burden of all that he had said and her own desperate confusion.
‘Do you have an answer for me?’ Rashad prompted with an air of expectancy on his lean, strong face.
‘Not yet,’ she admitted, matching his honesty.
Her brain had flatly rejected marrying him at first. They barely knew each other and it would be insane...and yet? She did want him, in fact she wanted him more than she had ever wanted any man and she was not an impressionable teenager any longer. In fact, what if she never met another man who made her feel the same way that Rashad did? That terrible fear held her still and turned her hollow inside because he made her feel alive and wanton and all sorts of things she had never felt before. And what was more, she was discovering that she liked the way he made her feel.
‘Perhaps I can help you to make up your mind,’ Rashad murmured with silken softness. ‘You will see it as a form of blackmail but in reality it is the only possible alternative if you do not wish to marry me—’
Polly’s head reared up, blue eyes wide and bright. ‘Blackmail?’ she