“That is understandable. You have been ill used.”

He was agreeing with her again. Why did he keep doing that?

“Come again?”

“You should have been apprised of all the facts of the situation. The aide responsible for this will be severely disciplined.”

“That’s a start. How severely?” she asked cautiously.

“How severely would you like?”

Good question. How did you chastise someone responsible for marrying you to the kind of man you’d avoided like the stomach flu?

She looked at him. “If the punishment were to fit the crime, he should be forced into a marriage with the last person on the planet he would choose.”

“He is already married.”

Laughter slid into Kardahl’s eyes indicating he got her drift and didn’t care that she’d slighted him. Why should he when the world was his playground and all the women in it his adoring toys.

“I see. And does he also have children?” she asked.

“Three.”

Ouch. She didn’t want to be responsible for the man losing his job when he had a wife and kids depending on him. “Maybe a severe talking to would be enough. Along with a warning not to play with people’s lives.”

“I will arrange it,” he said. He bowed slightly and smiled.

“Don’t do that.”

“It is a gesture of respect,” he explained.

“Not the bow. Don’t smile at me.”

He tilted his head as he studied her. “You would rather I frown?”

Yes, she thought. For many reasons. Not the least of which was the way his smile made breathing a challenge and threatened her equilibrium. “How can you smile when we still have a big problem? How are you going to get me out of this marriage?”

“It is possible to obtain an annulment,” he said.

“Okay,” she said nodding. “I’m almost smiling. What do I have to do?”

“You must not consummate the marriage.”

This must be hopeless romantic hell. She was discussing sex as if it were a business deal. So much for being swept away. “Okay then, start the paperwork. I promise not to seduce you and I’m quite sure you can’t seduce me.”

“Are you so very certain?” There was a gleam in his eyes. The glitter of competition, a challenge issued.

“Oh, please. I’m looking for a man who can put his heart and soul into a relationship. You’re not that man and we both know it.”

“Do we?” He looked at her for a long moment, then shrugged. “If you wish it, I will begin the process of dissolution.”

“I wish it very much.” Clearly he was being so agreeable because he didn’t want to be married. Then a thought struck her. “Is this going to get you in more trouble?”

“Do not worry about me. I will explain to the king and queen.”

“There won’t be more scandal?” she asked.

“My public relations staff will issue appropriate statements. But—”

“What?”

“If I could prevail upon you to play the part of my wife—only in public,” he added, “until any hint of scandal has faded away. You would have my gratitude. And although my family has caused you some distress, they would be forever in your debt as well. And in the meantime, I will give you every possible assistance in meeting your family.”

Family. It’s why she’d come halfway around the world. Because she’d had no one after her mother died, she’d always longed to have the problems with relatives that others moaned about. She would cherish interference, being judged and unwanted advice if she gained unconditional love.

“It’s a deal,” she agreed. “As long as no one expects me to produce children.”

His only response was a smile and a look that reminded her of a large hunting cat selecting his prey.

As the limousine drove past the colorful booths of the open marketplace and continued toward the heart of Bha’Khar’s capital city, Jessica stared out the window shaking her head.

“Something is not to your liking?” Kardahl asked.

“Everything is fine.”

And that was an understatement. True to his promise, he had shown her to her own room and she’d spent the night—alone—in the most beautiful bedroom she’d ever seen with a closet as big as her whole apartment in L.A. The bed was so high, she’d half expected her nose to bleed. The bathroom vanity was marble and all the fixtures were gold. After a pleasant breakfast, Kardahl had told her his staff was contacting her family and while they were waiting for a response he offered to take her on a tour of the city. It was very sweet, but probably part of his scandal-suppressing charade. And she was okay with that.

What saddened her in a soul-deep way was that this lovely, graceful city with its white and pink stucco buildings and red-tile roofs had been her mother’s birthplace and Jessica had never known. It was part of who she was and made her feel as if pieces of her heart were missing.

“Tell me what troubles you,” he said, his voice deep and gentle.

The gentleness got her. That and the fact that he’d read her so right and wouldn’t let her brush him off. “I can’t believe that my mother never talked about her country and her family.”

“It must have been a bitterly unhappy time for her.”

“Why do you say that?” she asked.

He shrugged. “It is a reasonable assumption. One tries to forget unhappy times. Talking of them would simply keep the pain fresh. In addition, the burden would be heavy enough without weighing down a child.”

So he thought her mother was protecting her. He looked sincere and it made sense, although she hadn’t expected such a depth of understanding from a man with his reputation for superficiality.

She smiled at him. “Whether or not you’re right, I find that very comforting.” When his cell phone rang, she looked out the window at the Arabian Sea. The sparkling blue expanse disappeared as they drove down a narrow street with fashionable shops on both sides.

He folded shut his phone and said, “That was my secretary.”

He looked at her. “I waited until your arrival to confirm a visit to your family.”

“When can I meet them?” she asked eagerly. “I don’t know much about them.”

“You have two aunts—”

“My mother had two sisters?” Duh. He’d just told her as much. What she’d meant was, she’d always wanted a sister, or a brother. She’d desperately wished for someone so she wouldn’t be alone. Her mother had sisters and she’d walked away from that, never looking back. Why?

“One of your aunts,” he continued, “is married to the ruler of Bha’Khar’s desert people. The other is a doctor who lives in a city to the north of the capital. I have arranged for you to meet them both.”

“That would be wonderful.” She was almost afraid to ask. “And my grandparents?”

“They are on an extended diplomatic assignment at the request of the foreign service minister. They’ve been informed of your arrival and will return as soon as possible.”

“I see.” She sighed.

He frowned. “What is it?”

“I’m disappointed that I have to wait,” she admitted. “I’d hoped to spend as much time as possible getting to know them before I have to return to my job.”

“Can you not extend your leave of absence?”

“I suppose I’ll have to, but I hate to do that to the kids.”

“They are not being cared for while you are gone?”

“It’s not that simple. Getting kids to trust when they’ve lost everyone isn’t easy.” She knew from personal experience. In fact, she still never let herself believe in anyone with her whole heart. “It’s a leave of absence for me, but to them it’s one more rejection. One more person who abandoned them.”

“They must learn not to put their trust in a single person,” he said. “It is a lesson that will serve them well. Would they not be better off without you?”

She shook her head. “Everybody needs somebody sometime. If they don’t engage emotionally, they become isolated and antisocial.”

“Is not detachment more uncomplicated?”

She stared at him. “This from a man who attaches himself to anything in a skirt—” She pressed her lips together and sighed. “Never mind.”