Page 9 of Sheikh's Secret Love-Child
“As a matter of fact, many of the marriages in my family were arranged.” Malak didn’t think this was the time or place to comment on how those arrangements had worked out over time. His parents’ stormy marriage being the premiere case in point. “We are royal, after all. My brother was raised as the crown prince and was betrothed to an appropriate princess since her birth.”
Malak decided not to share how that had worked out, either. For either Zufar or Amira, the woman he’d been promised to but had not married, in the end. To say nothing of the half brother he’d never known he’d had, Adir, who had appeared from nowhere at their mother’s funeral and had spirited Amira away with him on the day of her wedding to Zufar.
None of those inconvenient truths would help him make his point here, to Shona. “Marrying strangers isn’t the barrier for me you might imagine.”
“Well, it’s a barrier for me,” she threw at him. “Because I’m not completely insane.”
“You have a choice before you, Shona. You can fight me all you like, but you will lose. And either way, I will be returning to Khalia with my son.” Malak let that sink in. He watched the way her chest rose and fell, too fast, and knew his edicts weren’t exactly landing well. “You can stay behind, if you wish. But I cannot tolerate any trouble or scandal. The kingdom cannot survive any more turmoil. So you need to ask yourself—are you willing to give up your child? To sign away all your rights and never speak of this again?”
“I would rather die,” she gritted out at him.
Malak felt that his smile was much too thin, but he aimed it at her, anyway. “Then again, let me offer my congratulations. For your only other choice is to return to Khalia with us and take your place as my queen.”
“I would rather—”
“Careful,” Malak warned her, his voice hardly more than a growl. “What I’m offering you is a great honor, whether you see it that way or not. Be very, very sure that you want to offend me. Be at peace with the inevitable consequences.”
Shona did not look anything like peaceful. “I’m not marrying you, Malak.”
“You will,” Malak said pitilessly. “Or you will remain behind, legally separated from your child and muzzled by a thousand contracts that ensure your silence, forevermore. Those are your choices.”
“You can’t force me to do any of these things,” Shona threw at him, as if amazed he thought otherwise. As if she expected the dirty streets of New Orleans to rise up on her behalf. “You can’t make me do anything!”
But Malak only smiled, and this time, it was real.
Because his patience was finally at an end.