The Sultan's Choice Read Free Page B

my intelligence, no one does anything for nothing in return.’
    He inclined his head again, a different kind of gleam in his eyes now. ‘Of course not. In return I get a very suitable wife—you, or your sister, which is entirely up to you. A valuable alliance with a neighbouring kingdom and a slice of the oil profits which I will funnel into a trust fund for our children.’
    Our children.
Samia ignored the curious swooping sensation in the pit of her belly when he said those words. ‘Burquat needs an alliance with one of its Arabianneighbours, Samia. You know that as well as I do. On the brink of revealing to the world the veritable gold mine it harbours, it’s in an acutely vulnerable position. Marriage to me will ensure my support. We will be family. You and your brother will be assured of my protection. We’re also poised to sign a historic peace treaty. Needless to say our marriage would provide an even stronger assurance of peace between us.’
    Every word he spoke was a death knell to Samia, and every word had already been spoken by her brother. She couldn’t tell if the Sultan was bluffing about her sister or not, and didn’t really want to test him. She also didn’t want to investigate the dart of hurt that she should be so easily interchangeable with her sister. She didn’t want him to choose her and she didn’t want him to choose anyone else. Pathetic.
    She could feel her life as she knew it slipping out of her grasp, but an inner voice mocked her. What kind of a life did she have anyway? Burying herself away in the library and quashing her naturally gregarious spirit after years of bullying by her stepmother wasn’t something she could justify any more. Her stepmother was gone.
    Even so, the prospect of moving out of that safe environment was still terrifying. Desperation tinged her voice. ‘What makes you believe that I’ll be a good wife? The right wife for you?’
    The Sultan rocked back on his heels and put his hands in the pockets of his trousers. He was so tall and dark and forbidding in that moment.
    ‘You are intelligent and have not lived your life in the public eye, like most of your peers. I think you are serious, and that you care about things. I read the article you wrote in the
Archivist
last month and it was brilliant.’
    Samia felt humiliated more than pleased at his obvious research. An article in the
Archivist
only cemented how deeply
    boring
she was. She did not need to be reminded of the disparity between her and the man in front of her. He was a playboy! The thought of the exposure she would face within a marriage to him made her feel nauseous. Because with exposure came humiliation.
    Sadiq went on as remorselessly as the tide washing in. ‘But apart from all of that you are a princess from one of the oldest established royal families in Arabia and you were born to be a queen. God forbid, but if something happened to your brother tomorrow you would be next in line for your throne. If we were married then you would not have to shoulder that burden alone, and I would make sure that Burquat retained its emirate status.’
    Samia felt herself pale. She knew she was next in line to the throne of Burquat, but had never really contemplated the reality of what that meant. Kaden seemed so invincible that she’d never had to. But Sultan Sadiq was right; she was in a very delicate position. She might know the theory of ruling a country, but the reality was a different prospect altogether. And she knew that not many other potential husbands would guarantee that Burquat retained its autonomy. Al-Omar was huge and thriving, and the fact that the Sultan saw no need to bolster his own power through annexing a smaller country made Samia feel vulnerable—she hadn’t expected this.
    Afraid that he would see something of the turmoil she felt, she turned to face a window which looked out over manicured lawns—a serene and typically English tableau which would normally be soothing.
    She felt