“I never agreed to that.”
He gestured toward the chair Rafe had vacated. “Please sit so we can discuss this.”
“Yes, let’s.” She settled in to the seat and waited for him to continue.
“Would you like coffee? Or perhaps tea?” he asked.
“I would like orange juice.” And an explanation for why he clearly believed she would want to cohabitate with him, especially after his attitude last night.
He rose from the chair and walked to the refrigerator to retrieve the orange juice, poured her a glass and set it on the wooden table. He then took the chair opposite her and folded his hands before him. “I realize you left London to escape me, or perhaps our problems, but I am not willing to toss in the towel until we have explored all alternatives to remaining apart indefinitely.”
Neither was she, though she understood they might never be able to compromise on the issue of having children. They never would unless he decided to actually discuss it. “You believe the only way we can do that would be to live under the same roof?”
“Yes, I do.”
She had her doubts. “I know you, Sebastian. You will not tolerate a simple hotel room, and I do not believe you’ll find a penthouse suite anywhere near Royal. If I decide to do this, I refuse to reside too far away from Rafiq and Violet.”
“You’re right, but there are houses available.”
She suffered the second shock of the morning. “You purchased a house?”
He shook his head. “No. Rafe knows a man who is willing to open his home to us while he and the family travel abroad.”
Living in a stranger’s house did not seem like a favorable option. “What man?”
“His name is Sheikh Darin Shakir. I believe he hails from a country close to your homeland.”
She had heard the name bandied about by Mac. “I know of him. In fact, his reputation precedes him.”
Sebastian frowned. “In what way?”
“He killed a man several years ago.”
“He’s a bloody murderer?”
She gained some satisfaction from shocking her husband this time. “Actually, it is my understanding his love interest was being held captive by this criminal, forcing him to shoot the evildoer to save her life. Although I despise violence, I find the concept of coming to a woman’s rescue somewhat romantic.”
“I find resorting to murder somewhat disturbing.” Sebastian sat back and sighed. “Perhaps we should explore other avenues.”
“It’s past history, Sebastian. He is very well respected and in fact married to the woman he saved. They have several children.”
“Are you absolutely certain the man is safe? I refuse to put you in harm’s way.”
“As I’ve said, he is a hero in the town’s eyes. I also know my brother would never send me into a dangerous situation.”
Sebastian slapped his palms on the table and stood. “Then it’s settled. We shall go meet this knight in tainted armor and see if the house passes muster. We need to hurry since they will be leaving shortly after lunch for the trip.”
She refused to rush into the decision to join him. “I still have qualms about living together at this point in time.”
“What qualms?”
“First of all, although I came here to confront Rafe, I also intended to have time away from you to think.”
“On the contrary, last night you wanted to talk.”
He did present a valid point. “Yes, but I’m not certain you would be willing to do that.”
He rested his hand on the back of her chair. “If we decide the accommodations are suitable, I will strike a bargain with you.”
Always the negotiator. “Go on.”
“If you will give me one week and the arrangement doesn’t suit you, or if I don’t meet your expectations, then you are free to leave and I will return to the UK.”
She mulled the proposition over a moment and decided that it did seem fair. After all, she truly wanted to attempt to mend the relationship if at all possible. “All right. I will agree to your terms.”
“Great. Our chariot awaits.”
She pushed back from the table and came to her feet. “I wouldn’t consider that truck a chariot.”
“I had another vehicle delivered this morning from Dallas. One that is more suitable. You’ll see when I bring it around.”
“Believe it or not, I find that somewhat disappointing.”
He pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, a habit he had established from the first night they had met. “Why is that?”
“Sedans do not have beds.”
Noting the look of sheer surprise on Sebastian’s handsome face, she turned to retrieve her purse and sunglasses, smiling all the way upstairs and back down again. Perhaps she should not be encouraging her husband in a sexual sense, yet she could not seem to resist the desire his presence had resurrected. The ever present need.
If they had to exist in close quarters, she should make the best of their time together for however long it might last. If they jointly decided their marriage was over, she would make more memories to carry with her to override the bad.
If luck prevailed, the Shakirs’ family home would be a happy place perfect for new beginnings.
* * *
“This isn’t a house, it’s a fortress.”
Nasira tore her gaze away from the massive white stone structure to glance at Sebastian. “And this veritable limousine you’ve leased goes quite well with it.”
He sent her a half smile. “It’s a Jaguar, Sira. Only the best for my bride.”
She didn’t bother to ask how he had acquired it simply because she did not care. She only cared about meeting the mysterious man who resided in the residence. And of course, the woman who had been worthy of his rescue.
As soon as Sebastian pulled to a stop beneath the portico, a dark-haired, dark-skinned man dressed in black shirt and slacks emerged from the double iron doors. Nasira recognized him from the photograph she had seen at the Texas Cattleman’s Club—Darin Shakir, sheikh extraordinaire.
He opened her door and greeted her with an intense look and a guarded smile. “Mrs. Edwards.”
“Sheikh Shakir,” she said as she slid out of the luxury sedan. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine,” he said with a nod.
Sebastian rounded the hood and offered his hand to Darin. “I truly appreciate your offer, Sheikh Shakir.”
“You may call me Darin,” he replied. “I have never embraced my royal status.”
Nasira had also learned that about him, which could explain how he had settled in a place like Texas. Then again, so had her brother.
Darin showed them into the house where they were met by an attractive woman with red spiraling curls and bright green eyes. “Welcome to our home, you two. I’m Fiona Shakir.”
“I am Nasira Edwards, and this is my husband, Sebastian,” she said, beating her spouse to the punch.
At that moment, three dark-haired little boys entered the room and stood between the Shakirs like miniature soldiers. “These are our sons,” Darin said. “Halim, Kalib and Samir.”
Fiona rested her palm