But she didn’t have always with him. She’d known that from the start. At first, because he was out of reach. Now, he was within reach, but would soon drift out of it again. But, like before, she’d think of the price later. She had now with him.
He rose above her, swept her with caresses, his love flaying her with its beauty, its power. “Hayati, whenever you feel ready, I want you to stop birth control. I can’t wait to give Mennah a brother. Or a sister. Hopefully both.”
She smiled at him, went through the motions until he wrapped himself around her, his hands caressing the abdomen he was certain would soon swell with his child again.
She waited until his breathing evened in sleep, then let his dreams detonate inside her, pulverize the now she had with him to ashes.
It had been three weeks since Farooq had confessed his love, asked her to stop birth control. She still hadn’t confessed that she really didn’t need it this time.
She couldn’t cut her time with him short. She’d remain with him until he left her to take a wife who would give him more children. Give Mennah siblings…
Her phone rang. Thinking it must be a wrong number, she snapped it up to reject the call. No one but Farooq called her on this number, and he was in the shower.
Something made her press the answer button.
“Ameerah Carmen?”
Carmen’s stomach lurched with instant dread and revulsion.
She remembered that androgynous voice. Tareq.
He went on, not waiting for an answer. “I’ll get to the point. I want to meet with you.”
She found her voice. “No.”
“Don’t be so quick to refuse. I’m doing you a favor.”
“Thank you, but again, no. Goodbye, Prince Tareq.”
He gave up the polite act, flayed her with malignancy. “You and your bastard daughter were the only thing standing between me and the throne. But not anymore. Your days as princess are numbered. I would still have offered you a generous settlement if you left now so that I could claim the succession sooner, but now I’ll wait until my cousin throws you away as the useless tramp that you are. Yes, I investigated you, found out your…medical history. So it’s goodbye to you, ya somow’el Ameerah. And good riddance.”
She hurled the phone away as if it was a scorpion, and ran.
Ameenah. She had to find Ameenah.
“Carmen…” Farooq called out after her as he came out of the bathroom. But she’d already closed the door.
His blood stirred again at the idea of catching up with her. But he had to put something on before he pursued her.
Huffing in frustration, he noticed her brick-red phone, their “hotline” phone, on the bed. She never went anywhere without it…
Something unfurled in his gut as he picked it up, accessed the call log. All his number. All but one.
He pressed the dial button. On the first ring a man answered.
“I knew you’d change your mind.”
He terminated the call. Tareq.
She’d been talking to Tareq.
And he’d said, Change your mind. About what?
What did it mean?
He exploded to his dressing room. He must find her, talk to her. He wasn’t letting Tareq, or doubts, come between them again.
“What’s Tareq’s story?” Carmen closed the door behind her and Ameenah, still struggling with the agitation of her brush with Tareq. “Why was he bypassed for Farooq?”
Ameenah looked up at her out-of-the-blue question. “Tareq was never named crown prince, even though, with the deaths of both of King Zaher’s younger brothers, he was first in line. When King Zaher said he would bypass Tareq for Maolai Farooq, Prince Tareq called in all the favors his greatly loved late father had with the most influential members of the Tribune of Elders, to pressure the king into changing his choice. So, King Zaher resorted to a measure no one would contest—making Maolai Farooq his crown prince in effect, but saying he would give the title to his own male child, when he had one. However, our queen is too old to be that child’s mother, so to have an heir, the king would have to take another wife.”
Carmen frowned. “Why was that a problem? Polygamy is sanctioned in Judar.”
Ameenah made a gesture unique to the region, one signifying yes—but. “It has strict rules and requires the consent of the first wife. A consent she gave. But the Aal Masood’s, especially their kings, are monogamous, and King Zaher couldn’t do that to his queen, even to stop Tareq’s rise to the succession.”
“Tareq has a lot against him, huh?”
“Among many of his excesses, he is said to…favor, uh, boys…”
Whoa. A pedophile. “Then I’m surprised there was ever any problem in bypassing him. I’m surprised he wasn’t stoned.”
“He would have been, if his guilt was proved in a court of law. But his connections in the Tribune of Elders prevented that. He then declared he’d be the first king of Judar who never married, couldn’t care less who the throne went to after him. That won him the Aal Shalaan’s unwavering support and protection. It was then that King Zaher came up with what would assure Maolai Farooq of securing the succession, a requirement no one could contest—having a wife and a child as proof of stability and commitment to family.”
Her breath caught. “When was that?”
“Just over eighteen months ago now.”
Just around the time she’d walked out on Farooq.
Realizations piled up inside her head.
The king wouldn’t have made this decree if he hadn’t been confident Farooq would be married at once. Farooq could have had a suitable wife lined up…but no. He wouldn’t have been wasting time with her when he should have been securing a marriage to protect the throne from Tareq. That meant one thing.
He’d been about to offer her marriage.
Maybe even the same night she’d left. And unknown to both of them, her pregnancy would have clinched the succession at once. But she’d walked out. And Tareq had helped her disappear.
It all made sense. “What happened then?”
“Prince Tareq married at once, into the only family of the Aal Shalaans who would take him. But his wife didn’t conceive, and it was rumored he was undergoing fertility treatments. Then she did get pregnant, twice, but miscarried and was diagnosed with a condition that would make it impossible for her to carry a child to term. Tareq divorced her, and he’s now married another.”
“But why? The succession is already Farooq’s.”