A Whisper of Disgrace

chapter FIVE


KULAL WATCHED ROSA closely as she bit out her heartfelt words—more closely than he usually bothered to watch any woman, but by now she was beginning to perplex him. He had seen the play of emotions which had crossed her beautiful face when he’d asked her about her native Sicily. He had seen wariness and fear. Disgust too. Yes, he had definitely seen disgust when she had declared that she was never going back home. Someone more curious might have wondered what had caused such an extreme reaction, but he had never been a man to delve too deeply. He was more interested in the facts than in what lay behind them.

‘So you will find employment here?’ he mused. ‘Or perhaps you are wealthy enough to live comfortably without any need to go out to work?’

If he hadn’t hit on such a raw nerve, then Rosa might have told him to keep his intrusive questions to himself. Because there always had been money whenever she’d wanted it and plenty of it too. A trust fund had been put in place for her from the moment she’d been born and she’d been able to access it any time she liked. Sometimes she’d wondered what life might have been like if she’d had to save up in order to buy the latest expensive pair of shoes she’d coveted, but that was something she’d never experienced. At least, not until now. Because quickly following the text summoning her home had come another, informing her that all access to her funds had been frozen. That there was no more money to be had.

She knew exactly what her family were trying to do.

They were trying to force her to go back to Sicily by starving her out!

She’d known that they could be ruthless. She’d seen them dispose of enemies and workers—even husbands and wives—she just hadn’t realised that the same ruthlessness could be directed at her.

She stared at Kulal as his question lodged in her mind, suddenly realising that even if she did try to go out to work that her options open to her were very limited. She had a respectable degree in languages, but she wasn’t actually trained in anything, was she?

‘Actually, I’m not wealthy,’ she said. ‘Not any more.’

‘So what are you going to do?’ he persisted.

Frustration made her turn on him again. Was he getting some kind of kick by watching her squirm? ‘What I do or I don’t do is none of your business.’

‘But I could make it my business.’

His tone had softened and instinctively Rosa stiffened, for she suspected that this was a man who didn’t really do soft. She looked at him suspiciously. ‘Why would you do that?’

‘Because I think we could offer each other mutual help in a time of mutual need.’

She looked at him suspiciously. ‘I’m not sure I understand.’

He took a step forward, closing some of the space between them, and he saw from the sudden tension in her body that she was acutely aware of that fact. As was he … ‘I think you’re running from something, Rosa,’ he said as he stared down into her big, dark eyes. ‘Something or someone. I also think that you’re hiding—that you don’t want anyone to know you’re here. And that you’re broke. Or at least, if not broke, then rapidly running out of funds.’

Rosa swallowed because his proximity was making her feel as unsettled as his perception. And how spooky was that, when pretty much everything he’d guessed had been true? Soon after she’d found out that her funds had been frozen, she had sold a bracelet to a second-hand jeweller in nearby Nice, but had received much less for it than she’d been expecting. And wasn’t it funny how money didn’t seem to go anywhere, especially when you weren’t used to living frugally? Especially when she’d blown most of her budget on a tiny crimson dress which had got her into all this trouble.

‘Why are you so interested in me?’ she whispered.

Kulal’s mouth flattened into an uncompromising line. Time to destroy any emerging fantasies which might destabilise what he was about to say. ‘I’m not interested in you, habeebi,’ he said softly. ‘But more in what we can offer each other.’

Beneath the slippery fabric of her gown, Rosa felt the prickling of her skin and she wasn’t sure if it was excitement or fear. Was he going to suggest that they continue where they’d left off the other day, when they were so rudely interrupted in the garden of his hotel villa? And if he did say that … if he pulled her in his arms and kissed her with the same kind of hungry passion she’d tasted the other day, would she honestly be able to push him away?

The words seemed to be having difficulty leaving her mouth, but she knew she had to say them. ‘What kind of offer?’

Kulal’s lips curved into a smile of satisfaction as he read the unmistakable signs of sexual desire on her face, and knew he was home and dry.

‘My offer of marriage,’ he said.

His words echoed around the room and a feeling of unreality began to wash over Rosa as she stared into his black eyes. She tried to wonder what it would be like if he’d made his suggestion with some degree of affection, rather than with that cruel and calculating expression. But she was a Corretti, wasn’t she? And therefore ideally equipped to deal with his proposal in the same businesslike way as he’d made it.

‘Marry you?’ she said drily. ‘Don’t you have someone more suitable you could ask? Perhaps somebody you’ve known longer than five minutes, in a relationship which is founded on more than lust and insults?’

Briefly, Kulal thought of Ayesha and wondered whether now was the time to reveal his broken engagement. In terms of getting the Corretti girl to agree to his plan, surely it would be better to keep it secret? But he remembered the bitterness on her face as she’d spoken disparagingly about ‘secrets’ and figured that she was bound to find out some time. Far better it came from him than from some mischievous news source.

‘Actually, I had a fiancée,’ he said. ‘Until very recently.’

Rosa’s eyes narrowed. ‘How recently?’

There was a pause. ‘Until yesterday.’

The brutal time scale meant that no mental calculations were necessary and she stared at him in disbelief. ‘You mean you … you made love to me when you were engaged to another woman?’

He gave a short laugh. ‘I don’t classify kissing someone who has just hurled themselves into my arms as “making love.”‘

‘You bastard,’ she said quietly. ‘You complete and utter bastard. You know damned well that if I hadn’t been drunk then, you would have ended up in my bed that night.’

Kulal only just managed to repress a shudder. It was outrageous that he was going to have to marry a woman like this. A woman who showed no shame about spreading her favours so widely. Yes, he liked his lovers to be liberated—of course he did—but a wife was something completely different. That a royal prince should take such a tramp as his bride was unthinkable! Until he reminded himself that this was intended to be nothing but a temporary marriage and that her virtue was irrelevant. He remembered the way she’d kissed him. The way she’d pressed her delicious body into his so her magnificent breasts had flattened against his chest. At least she would come to the bridal chamber with a satisfying degree of sexual knowledge.

‘I was behaving no differently to how men have always behaved,’ he drawled.

‘You mean you expected your fiancée to ignore your outrageous behaviour?’

‘I expected my fiancée to know nothing about what I was doing,’ he said. ‘But it seems I was wrong. And it also seems she didn’t understand that a man owes it to his future bride to gain as much experience as possible before he takes her innocence on their wedding night.’

Rosa almost laughed at his insolence. ‘Is that supposed to be a joke?’

‘What’s funny about it?’

‘You’re making it sound as if you were doing her a favour by sleeping with as many women as possible.’

‘That is one way of looking at it,’ he agreed seriously. ‘And it is certainly a valid point. Generations of men from all cultures have taken a comprehensive amount of lovers before tying themselves down to marriage. For no woman wants a man who is a novice in the art of lovemaking.’

‘And no woman wants a man who is so arrogant that he doesn’t realise what a jerk he’s being!’

‘A jerk?’ he ground out. ‘You dare to call the sheikh of Zahrastan a jerk?’

‘I do when it happens to be true.’

His eyes narrowed, but he could not deny the rush of blood to his groin, because her unprecedented insolence was inexplicably turning him on. ‘And tell me this, Rosa Corretti—are you always so outspoken?’

In truth, no—she wasn’t. The old Rosa was often button-lipped and uptight. She never voiced the scandalous thoughts which sometimes plagued her because that was the way she’d been brought up. To be serene and calm and ladylike. To hide her feelings behind a polished exterior. But what had been the point of playing her obedient role to perfection when everyone else had been deceiving her?

This man Kulal had deceived her too. He hadn’t bothered telling her he was engaged to be married when he had practically glued himself to her on the dance floor, so why on earth would she tread carefully to spare his feelings? She doubted whether he had any!

‘My outspokenness is irrelevant,’ she snapped. ‘And you haven’t explained why you’ve made this astonishing proposal of marriage.’

‘To protect my reputation,’ he said.

She gave a short laugh. So he was self-serving as well as arrogant. ‘Surprise, surprise.’

‘And to protect yours.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

There was a pause while he chose his words, though he was finding it difficult to keep the irritation from his voice. ‘My brother has found out that we spent the night together, so the information is out there. From what I understand, your own family is pretty good at information gathering.’ He glanced at her from beneath the half-shuttered lids of his eyes as he watched her body tense. ‘How do you think they might react if they discover you’ve been sleeping with an Arabian prince?’

She shuddered to think how they’d react if she’d been sleeping with anyone. ‘But we didn’t sleep together!’ she hissed. ‘You know we didn’t.’

‘And you think anyone is likely to believe that?’

Distractedly, Rosa rubbed the palm of her hand back and forth over her lips as his words hit home. With a shudder, she tried to imagine Alessandro and Santo’s reaction to the news that their baby sister had been behaving like a puttana. The family would still be reeling from her mother’s shocking disclosure—which would probably make their reaction even harsher than normal. She was still a Corretti, wasn’t she? And a female Corretti, to boot. Bottom line was that her innocence would be seen as having been compromised, and all hell would be let loose. She could imagine them sending out a gang of heavies to bring her back again. Even worse—they might come and get her themselves.

‘Mannaggia,’ she whispered unthinkingly. ‘What a fool I have been.’

It occurred to Kulal that not once during the entire conversation had she made any attempt to flirt with him, nor to show any kind of gratitude that he was offering a solution to her predicament. Why, she barely seemed aware of the bed in one corner of the room—a fact which was now beginning to dominate his thoughts. If it had been anyone else, he would have taken her into his arms and started to kiss her, but her face was so full of a simmering rage that he thought it unwise to try. He was beginning to realise that the situation was balanced on a knife edge, and that now he wanted her to agree to a plan which had initially repulsed him.

Because Kulal was an expert at finding the good in a bad situation. It was what had sustained him during his lonely childhood. He had refused to dwell on the fact that his mother’s love had been brutally torn from him, and to focus instead on the unparalleled freedom which he had enjoyed within the palace walls. He had learnt to be utterly self-sufficient and hit out at anyone who should ever dare to pity him.

Now he looked at Rosa Corretti and thought about the benefits of having her as his wife. He thought about what enjoyment her curvaceous beauty would afford him. A body which he had touched only briefly would become his to play with as he pleased! And once his passion for her had worn off, he could send her on her way.

‘A short marriage which can be dissolved once the dust has settled,’ he elaborated. ‘A marriage which could be beneficial to us both.’

She had lifted her head and was staring at him as if she was seeing him for the first time and didn’t very much like what she saw.

‘Beneficial?’ she snorted. ‘I think not. I think that marriage to you would be something of a nightmare.’

‘Are you so sure?’ he mocked.

‘Absolutely positive!’ she asserted, until she forced herself to confront an alternative which was even worse. She couldn’t go home and yet she couldn’t stay here with rapidly dwindling resources. Even if she ran to somewhere else and found herself a humble job, her family would surely come after her and find her. She forced herself to smile. ‘But I can see that it would have some advantages.’

‘You mean you’re now agreeing to my proposition?’

‘Only on certain conditions.’

‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible,’ he stated softly. ‘You don’t get to bargain with a sheikh.’

‘Oh, but I do!’ she said firmly. ‘Because you need this marriage more than I do!’

‘You think so?’

‘I know so.’ She shot him a look of pure challenge. ‘You’re afraid of what my brothers might do when they find out about our liaison, aren’t you?’

‘Are you out of your mind?’ His lips curled with derision. ‘Kulal Al-Dimashqi is afraid of no one, Rosa. Not now and not ever. But I love my country and the fallout from our ill-advised night together could bring shame on our royal house.’ There was a pause. ‘You have no need to worry about tying yourself to me for a lifetime if that is what gives you cause for hesitation, for I will happily give you a divorce once a suitable time has elapsed.’

Rosa mulled over his words, aware that he was offering her a way out. It might not have been the way she would have chosen, but she wasn’t exactly being dazzled by choice, was she? ‘How long?’ she questioned. ‘Will we have to be married?’

He glimmered her a cool smile. ‘How does a year sound?’

‘Like eleven months too long?’

‘I can assure you that it will fly by,’ he said smoothly. ‘Because time always does. Before you know it, the year will be up and I will send you on your way with a fortune big enough to guarantee your independence and a lifetime’s memories of sexual bliss.’

Rosa met the gleam of his ebony eyes. His sexual boast was shocking and his arrogance was second to none, and yet. It seemed such a stupid thing to feel, but in the midst of all her confused emotions, she was aware only of a feeling of safety when she looked at him. Because whatever faults he possessed, she felt sure he would protect her. Nobody would dare come near her if Sheikh Kulal Al-Dimashqi was fighting in her corner.

Even if she could wave a magic wand—which is what she’d originally wanted—she knew now that her old life was over. She couldn’t go back. She’d fled to France and booked into a cheap hotel and sold an old family bracelet and nearly got herself laid. For the first time in her life, she’d felt as if she was really living—the way her brothers were allowed to live—instead of existing in the pampered little bubble they’d created for her.

She’d tasted freedom and found it a heady brew and she could never return to the life she’d known before. All those eyes watching her. All those unspoken codes she’d grown up with, and the expectation which came with them. That Rosa was a good girl and that one day she’d marry some suitable Sicilian who had been picked for her.

If she was going to have to endure the ignominy of an arranged marriage, then why shouldn’t she arrange it herself? Especially as this particular marriage had a get-out clause. She wanted independence and Kulal had offered it to her. He had offered her a generous pay-out too. For the first time in her life she would be independent! Imagine being able to do as she wanted, without having to run to someone else for permission. Her traditional family could not object once she’d got that all-important band of gold on her finger.

‘It’s a very tempting offer,’ she said.

‘I find it’s always wise to make your offers tempting. It usually gets people to agree to them.’ A smile slid across his lips as he slanted her a quizzical look. ‘And your “conditions” are?’

Rosa hesitated. She had been about to tell him that it would have to be a celibate marriage. That she would not have sex with a man who thought so little of women—a man who had been prepared to cheat on his ex-fiancée without a flicker of conscience. But she could see now that such a demand would be impossible to enforce. Could she really imagine saying no to the sexual advances of a man like Kulal Al-Dimashqi? Could she really picture herself trying to resist him? She felt the sudden lurch of her heart.

Not in a million years.

She looked at the black eyes which glittered in his hawk-like face and in that moment she suspected he knew exactly what she was thinking. She could feel her skin tightening as their gazes clashed in recognition—as if her body was silently acknowledging the sizzling connection which blazed between them. She might not like what he stood for and she might disapprove of his views on women, but she wasn’t stupid enough to deny that she wanted him.

The fact that he could treat his ex-fiancée so badly told her he wasn’t a man to be trusted, but what man was? Even her own uncle had cold-bloodedly bedded her mother! She wasn’t looking for trust, or softness—or any of the things which most women wanted when they took a husband. And with her family background, she certainly wasn’t looking for love. Her mouth flattened. Definitely not love. She wanted someone to show her how to become a woman in the fullest sense of the word—and Kulal would be the ideal candidate. She would take from him everything he was prepared to give and then she would walk away.

‘I’ve decided to waive my conditions,’ she said, her airy tone matching the careless shrug of her shoulders.

Kulal saw the way her colour had heightened and again he smiled. ‘I rather thought you might,’ he murmured, his gaze drifting down to where her luscious breasts were jutting against the satin of her robe. He could see the nipples hardening as he watched them and he felt the responding jerk of desire. ‘And that pleases me.’

‘But I don’t want my brothers finding out,’ she continued. ‘Because they’ll try and put a stop to this wedding, if they do.’

For a moment he contemplated the idea of challenging her brothers—or laughing aloud at the very idea that their supremacy could challenge his. But why fight a battle which was ultimately pointless? They would get their precious Rosa back when the year was up. ‘There are things we need to decide, but we can easily put them on hold.’ His voice was husky as his gaze drifted once more to her nipples. ‘And start occupying ourselves a little more pleasurably.’

She looked at him. ‘Meaning?’

‘You know very well what I mean, Rosa. Your body certainly gives every indication of doing so. And there’s a bed right over there, just waiting.’

Rosa flinched as she crossed her arms over the betraying tightening of her breasts. ‘Don’t treat me like a whore, Kulal,’ she said quietly. ‘Or I’ll walk away from this proposed union right now.’

He saw the way she had lifted her chin. Saw the glint of steel which had entered her dark eyes—and in that moment she looked very proud and very Sicilian. A formidable woman, he recognised as he inclined his head in a gesture of grudging acknowledgement. ‘Very well,’ he said softly. ‘If such games amuse you, then we will obey convention and wait a little longer—and the anticipation will add spice to my growing hunger. I shall send a car for you in the morning. And in the meantime, you might want to give some thought to some appropriate attire.’

Her fingers touched the slippery silk lapel of her robe. ‘What do you mean—appropriate?’

He wanted to say that stark naked would be his first choice and the skimpy crimson dress which had done such dangerous things to his blood pressure would be a close second. But not in public. In public she was going to have to play the part expected of her. They both were.

‘Something which a future princess might wear on the way to meet her prince.’

She thought about the few clothes she had flung into her suitcase just before her impetuous flight from Sicily. ‘I’ll try.’

‘And make sure you bring all your belongings with you.’

She looked at him warily. ‘Why, where am I going?’

‘To Paris.’ He gave the ghost of a smile. ‘To begin your new life.’