Page 42 of Sheikh's Secret Love-Child

Still.

“You loved her,” he said, and fought to make that sound like something other than an indictment.

His father’s gaze met his. And held. “I did. I still do.”

“How?” Malak shook his head. “When you knew...?”

He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t talk euphemistically about indiscretions when both he and his father knew exactly what Namani had done. Moreover, Malak found that despite the fact he’d never understood his mother, nor wanted to spend any time with a woman who clearly hated him—because he was no substitute for Adir, the child she’d given away before she’d fallen pregnant with Malak—he didn’t quite have it in him to tear her apart, either.

“Love does not change when it is tested,” his father said slowly, as if it hurt him to speak of it. Or as if he had spent a long time coming to that conclusion. “If anything, it deepens. Which is not to say it does not become...more complicated.”

“But surely there are some betrayals that make it impossible to keep loving another.”

Or there ought to have been, surely.

“I’m the last person on earth who should offer marriage advice, Malak,” his father said after a moment. “But I will tell you this. Life is filled with regrets, and I think any king’s rule must be as well. It is the nature of the throne. But while you may regret political decisions, at length, you will never regret love. No matter what happens.”

They moved to other topics, such as the wedding that would so soon take over the whole of the kingdom. And the goodwill the wedding would usher into the kingdom. But when Malak left his father to his reading again, all he could think about was what the old man had said about love.

He didn’t understand why he couldn’t get away from love, of all things, when he’d lived his whole life without it. Happily.

It was the love of a woman that had ruined his father. It had turned a decent ruler into a man obsessed with his careless, selfish wife above the good of his people, and certainly above the welfare of his own children. It was the love of a man not her husband that had given Malak’s mother a child she’d had to give away, making it impossible for her to love the children she’d kept. It was the love of a woman that had led his brother to abdicate the throne, too, throwing the kingdom into more chaos it didn’t deserve.

It was love that had stuck Khalia with Malak when the people deserved a more thoughtful king and a far better man. A man with the dignity the throne deserved instead of a sybaritic playboy who had been content to while away his days between any willing pair of thighs he could find.

Malak wanted nothing to do with love, thank you.

He wanted to rule his people with a cool head and a steady hand. He wanted to make certain that emotion could never again destroy the kingdom.

Much less another Khalian king.

He found himself walking faster and faster as he moved through the palace, hardly seeing the servants and aides who leaped out of his path. He didn’t stop until he’d made it to Shona’s rooms. He pushed through the doors and ignored how harsh his own breathing was. Particularly when he couldn’t find her.

Malak kept going, making his way into the adjoining suite that belonged to Miles. Shona was there, playing some kind of game with Miles out on their balcony, surrounded by enough toy trucks to take over the kingdom.

He stopped there in the open balcony doors, watching them, his heart beating too hard. Too fast.

His father might not regret what he’d done for love, but Malak did. He lived his father’s choices every day. His father’s, his mother’s and his brother’s.

Love had consequences. Love was ruinous. How could the old man not see that, after all that had happened?

And how could Malak see anything else?

Shona would be his queen. Both of them could love Miles as the child deserved, and would. He knew they already did.

But he also knew, deep down inside of him, that he had to put a stop to this nonsense about Shona loving him before he was tempted to imagine he could reciprocate it.

Because he knew exactly where that ended up. It was why he’d avoided such emotional entanglements the whole of his adult life.

He wanted what they already had. Sex. Laughter. Miles and whatever babies might come in the future. A partnership far better than the one he’d seen his parents attempt all those sad, tense years.

But there was no need to muddy it up with love. He had a kingdom to rule, and that meant he needed stability. Not the constant ebb and flow of love and all the wreckage that wrought.

He was so busy scowling that he didn’t notice Shona had gotten to her feet and crossed the wide balcony to him until she was right there in front of him.

She was still the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. She glowed, especially when she frowned at him with concern all over her face. She made his chest hurt and God help him, but he was tired of hurting.

He understood that it was too late. That there was a reason everything hurt. That he was as much a fool as his brother and father before him.