The Last Prince of Dahaar - Page 9

It would have been better if his unwanted wife had been a woman who would scurry at the thought of being in the same room with the Mad Prince. But this defiant woman was what fate had brought him.

There was no point in railing against it. “There is very little that matters left to me, Princess. Except my word. And I would rather be dead than lose that, too.”

“Then, send me back when Wasim turns eighteen, when he doesn’t need your protection anymore, however long that might take. The world will still know that Siyaad has your support. You can claim that I was an unsuitable wife and I will not contest you. You can sever all connections with me and no one will point a finger.”

He shook his head, surprised at the depth of her anger toward their way of life.

To be rid of her when there was no need anymore was an infinitely tempting offer. But there would be no honor in it. “If I send you back, you will become the object of speculation and ridicule. That is a very high price for your freedom, Princess. It will always be tainted in Siyaad.”

He saw the tremor that went through her, the fear that surfaced in her gaze. But of course, she didn’t heed it. He already knew that much about this woman. “Anything is better than being locked in a marriage whose very fabric is dictated by duty and nothing else.”

“Marriage to me doesn’t have to be the nightmare you are expecting.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have very little expectations of my wife. She will live in Dahaar. She will do her duty in state functions by my side. She will be kind and thoughtful to my parents.

“I will not love her nor will I expect her to love me. I don’t even want to see her except in public. This marriage is purely for the benefit of my parents. And I don’t care what you do with your time as long as you don’t bring shame upon Dahaar. Our lives can be as separate as you or I want.”

She frowned, her gaze studying him intently. “What about an heir? Isn’t that part of the agenda that’s passed down to you? Produce as many offspring, male preferably, as soon as possible?”

“How old are you, Princess?”

“Twenty-four.”

“I thought I was too bitter for my age. I have no intention of fathering a son or daughter, Princess, not with you or anyone else, not until...” Not ever if he didn’t find control over his own mind. “How about we revisit the invigorating subject of procreation in say...two years from now?”

She swallowed, drawing his gaze to the delicate line of her throat. “How do I know you won’t change your mind...about everything?”

“I have enough nightmares without the added ones of forcing myself on an unwilling woman. Believe me, the last thing I want is to sleep with you.”

Her gaze sparked with defiance. “If I’m to be stuck in a marriage that will save my sister and benefit my brother, then I might as well be in one with a man who’s just as indifferent to it as I am.”

Ayaan frowned, something else cutting through the pulse of attraction swirling around them. Not only had she elicited a reaction he had thought his body incapable of, but she had annoyed, perplexed and downright aggravated him to the extent that she had so easily banished the backlash from his nightmare, the chills he would have been fighting for the rest of the night.

That she was able to do that when nothing else had worked in the past few months rendered him speechless, tempted him to keep her there, even if it was only to...

Shaking his head, he caught himself. Whatever relief she brought him would only be temporary. “If you have had enough of an adventure, I will walk you back, Princess.”

The smile slipped from her mouth, her gaze lingering on him, assessing, studying. She tucked her hands around her waist, loosened them and hugged herself again. Her indecision crystal clear in her eyes, Ayaan waited, willing her to let it go, willing her to walk away without another word.

Her gaze slipped to the bed and back to him, a caress and a question in it. Every muscle in him tightened with a hot fury. “Will you be okay for the rest of the—”

Forcing his fury into action, Ayaan tugged her forward. “Remember, Princess. You will be my wife only in front of the world. In private, you and I are nothing more than strangers. So stay out of things that don’t concern you and I will do the same.”

CHAPTER THREE

THE WEEK LEADING up to the wedding was the most torturous week that Zohra could remember, even though the wedding day dawned bright and sunny.

Prince Ayaan had left the next morning while Zohra and her family had traveled to Dahaara the day after that, renewed vigor seeping into her father who had been ill for the past month.

Tags: Tara Pammi Billionaire Romance
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