Night of Pleasure (22 page)

“Forgive me, but are you a good-looking man and do you own a crown?”

His sense of humor was as non-existent as hers. “I thought we were friends.”

“Yes, I thought so, too. And then you disappointed me.” He lowered the book onto his chest, resting it against his embroidered red waistcoat. Piercing black eyes of immeasurable depth met hers. “Why did you not tell me Lord Banfield was in love with you?”

She flushed and felt the room shrink. It would seem
everyone
knew about Derek’s affection for her. Not that he had ever been particularly quiet about it. Derek had more or less asked her to marry him within five minutes of them knowing each other. “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated.” His masculine lips pursed. “Does this mean you love him, as well? Did you also omit
that
complication?”

She inwardly winced. “Why are you— You have no right digging into what he and I share. This is between him and me.”

He rigidly pointed at her. “
No
. You involved me and therefore it is now between all three of us.” He sat up, slapping his book shut and tossed the book onto the chaise beside him, the large ruby on his gold ring glinting against his finger. “When it comes to matters of the heart, we Persians dare not disrespect its strength or its honor. In our culture, love begins with God himself. It is known to our people as
tawhîd
. If a woman violates the sanctity of love by hurting the man she claims to loves, she is violating God himself.”

Lovely. She was officially Satan in his eyes. “So what are you saying? That I get three lashes on the back for this?”

He glared. “Do not forget who you are addressing. In my country, when someone lies to the crown, they get more than lashes. Their heads are removed from their bodies with a saber the size of tiger.” Grabbing her by the waist, he yanked her down hard onto his lap and adjusted her skirts around them, smoothing the fabric. The musky sweet scent of
davana ittar
surrounded her. He tucked his chin against her shoulder. “I am not happy with you,
azizam
. You lied to me. You told me you were forced into the arrangement and that you and he had nothing in common and would only make each other miserable. That is why I offered my assistance. To prevent you from being miserable. That was our agreement. But Dalir informed me that there is a far greater bond between you and this man that goes beyond the arrangement. This Lord Banfield apparently has been writing you love letters since you were fourteen. And that
you
have responded to every single one of his love letters.”

She groaned. “This isn’t fair. You have no understanding of—”

“If you think life is fair, allow me to show you the door,” he bit out. “Dalir investigated
everything
. Why? Because I never go into anything blind,
azizam.
Not even when I trust the person whose hand I shake. A man of my ranking and power would be stupid to do so. I have already entrusted far more into your hands than I have ever allowed myself to trust anyone. And how do you reward me? By telling me lies. Apparently this Lord Banfield and his brother are good men and come from a loving family. A far better family than I could ever hope to offer you. Because unlike my mother and brothers and sisters, my father is a cold and wicked man. Your very breath would freeze in his presence. Knowing all this, why are you asking that I take you to Persia and destroy a good man who loves you? I wish to understand.”

A soft breath escaped her, remembering the anguish in Derek’s face and brown eyes when she had announced the end of their union. It still hurt. It still— “Please don’t do this.”

He adjusted his chin harder against her shoulder. “You worry about becoming your mother, but you are still hurting this Lord Banfield. As such, you are becoming your mother whether you wish to be or not. Do you not understand that,
azizam?
If you love him, and he loves you, you cannot hurt him like this. Are you truly that cruel?”

She closed her eyes and laid her head against Nasser’s, wishing she could make everything inside her own mind disappear. The shouts. The breaking of glass. The words of hate. The words of hate that still lived within her. “He deserves more than what I have living within me. He sees the world in a beautiful golden light I’ve never been able to touch. Even when we were younger, he had this-this…
incredible
quality and tone and playfulness I never had. He has always been Adonis and I am…
Bubona
. The goddess of unsmiling cattle.”

He gripped her arms and gently rattled her against himself. “No more Roman references. My ears are burning.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have come to London,” she confided brokenly. “I knew I shouldn’t have thought I could face him and then leave him. You should have seen him. He was so angry and so hurt and…” Tears burned her eyes. “I hurt him. And then when he asked me for a night, I…I couldn’t tell him no.”

He traced a hand up the sleeve of her gown and fingered a misplaced lock within her pinned hair. “You cannot go with me. If I take you to Persia and make you a princess in the hopes of protecting my own name before my father and my people, I foresee bad karma. Leaving things unsaid and love unresolved leads people down very dark paths. No one knows this more than I. His suffering will follow you, and I cannot allow for it. I have heard nothing but good things about this man. He is good to his brother and his mother and his cousins and anyone else who comes to him for assistance. And you mean to make him kneel in his own pain in your honor? How is that fair? Given that I know what you feel for him, and what I know
of
him, you must marry him,
azizam
. It is the right thing to do.” He nuzzled her cheek. “Your heart is far more beautiful than you think. You are simply too blinded by your own doubts to see it.”

Her breath seemed to solidify in her throat. Marrying Derek was the easy part. She wanted to cling to his arms. She wanted to cling to his heart. She wanted to lay beside him on pillows and trace his lips with her fingers and know what it would be like to be his. But there was more to love than that. Happy times always brought out the best in people. But bad times…they brought out the worst. And it was the worst she feared. For she knew about the darkness hidden within her. A darkness not even her paints could brush over. “I’m still going with you to Persia. I’m still—”

He snorted. “You are
not
going to Persia. You either marry him or I will personally deliver you to him right now. You decide. Sadly, this royal door has closed. Which means…you only have one door left to walk through. The one you fear walking through.”

Her heart pounded. Oh, God. She didn’t even have her money. All of the money she had been saving and saving and saving since she was ten-years-old was gone. She had given it all away to Andrew because she thought—

She closed her eyes in disbelief and dragged in deep uneven breaths, over and over and over, trying desperately to calm the whirling in her head knowing Derek was going to be waiting at the altar. No matter what she decided.

“If you keep breathing like that, your lungs will rip,” Nasser chided.

They already had. She opened her eyes.

What was she doing? Never mind that she had run out of choices.

She couldn’t leave Derek at the altar.

She couldn’t publicly humiliate him.

Not after everything they had shared.

She swallowed and lowered her gaze to her hands lying limply on her lap. Maybe he would bring out the best in her. Not the worst. Maybe what they had shared would be stronger than the passions she feared. Tears burned her eyes. “He will ask questions.”

“You must answer them.”

She shook her head and kept shaking it. “If I tell him about how I grew up, he’ll start comparing me to my mother. He’ll start—”

“Your pride has no place in this. If he truly loves you, he will understand and help you. Now are you going to marry him? Or do I have to get Dalir involved?”

“If I do marry him, what becomes of you? What about your name?”

He smoothed her skirts. “Our association will be enough to start me on a new path. Maybe you and I can go riding together in public for all to see. A little gossip between the pages of a British newspaper that would mention my name alongside that of a beautiful married woman would quickly find its way to my father. It would please him as he is forever complaining to me about my lack of interest in women.” He eyed her. “Is your Lord Banfield the jealous sort? Could we make use of him?”

She gasped. “You are
not
going to torture poor Banfield. I have tortured him well enough, don’t you think?”

“We would not torture him long,” he chided. “Maybe a week or two. Enough to get the newspapers involved.”

She elbowed him hard. “You mean to marry me off to him and
then
ruin me? What sort of friend are you?”

“I am merely teasing.” He grabbed at her elbow, tightening his hold. “Tell me more about this Lord Banfield,
azizam
. I’m curious. Dalir is overly dry and never tells me what I want to know. Is he handsome?”

She bit her lip, dreamily remembering Derek sleeping naked. “Beyond.”

“
Beyond
?” He dropped his voice low. “Dalir tells me he wears his hair long. Like a woman. To make him pretty. I like that. Is that true?”

She rolled her eyes. “He wears a
queue
. It’s not what you think. It used to be fashionable in Western society.” She paused and added, “Forty years ago. I don’t know why he wears it. I personally think he should cut it.”

“Do not make him cut it. Keep him pretty.” He eyed the doors and quieted his voice. “How big are his hands? Large enough to do things?”

She elbowed him again in exasperation. “Cease. He is
mine
. Not yours. Mine.”

“Oho. Suddenly the man she wanted to leave behind is no longer mine but hers.” He smirked and kissed her cheek. “We must find a gown worthy of you and make him stumble at seeing you.”

Derek most certainly would stumble given he still hadn’t cancelled the wedding or announced the end of their union to her father or the public. It was as if he was challenging her to meet him at the altar. A panic of uncertainty rose within her. “What if everything I believe about myself is true? What if I cannot control my emotions and I hurt him?”

He tsked. “You will not. Cease doubting. Have faith in yourself.”

He had become the older brother that had never been born. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe…I…I’m so nervous.”

He grinned, his eyes crinkling. “Good. That means you are doing the right thing.” His grin slowly faded, his husky features turning somber. He squeezed her back. “I have been taking private lessons on how to be more comfortable around women and have progressed very well. While I am in London these next few weeks, you must help me. You must make everyone think I am a virile man. Perhaps you can introduce me to women in your new circle? With you now getting married, I must convince someone else to be
my
princess.”

She pointed at him. “Do
not
be a rake about this. If you do intend to marry, she had better know what she is getting into and that your love is for men. You had better be honest with her.”

He quirked a brow. “As you were with me?”

She eyed him. “Do as I say but never do as I do. I’m an American. Remember?”

He smirked and poked her cheek again. “Yes,
madâr
. You most certainly are.”

Bustling back toward the direction of her waiting carriage, just as the sun began to fade from the late afternoon sky, Clementine jerked to a halt, her eyes widening.

Her father flicked his cheroot onto the pavement, crushing it with his boot and widened his stance, staring her down. “Mrs. Langley sent a footman over to the hotel to inform me what you were up to. I immediately rode out, sent her away and am taking over.”

An exasperated breath escaped her. She forgot who was getting paid by whom.

Mr. Grey wagged his finger toward her. “You. Come here. We are going for a long walk through the park.”