‘Stop this,’ she exploded. ‘Is this what your proposal boils down to? A sparkly stone and a pair of handcuffs disguised as a wedding band? Believe me, I’m not that desperate to get married. I’d sooner wed a walrus and feast on sea cucumbers than marry a man who opens his wallet without opening his heart.’
‘But you want me,’ Cesar stated flatly.
‘If you’re asking whether I like having sex with you, why not say so? I do. You’re an amazing lover. Would I like to have more sex with you? Yes, of course, but having sex is very different from planning to spend the rest of your life with someone.’ It hurt to even think those words, let alone say them. Being intimate with Cesar had meant everything to her. She’d given herself completely, freely, trustingly and lovingly, but had it meant the same to him?
‘Perhaps you see things differently,’ he suggested.
‘I see you clearly.’ She drew on every bit of control she had to keep her voice steady and her eyes direct. ‘The unexpressed feelings you have are possibilities waiting to happen. You get angry when you can’t express yourself, but I don’t need flowery words any more than I need expensive gifts. I just want you to be honest with me—with both of us.’
Cesar frowned. ‘Are you frustrating my plans?’
‘There you go again,’ she said with a hint of desperation in her voice. ‘We should be getting married because we want nothing more than to be together. Not because it suits your agenda. Open your heart, Cesar. Let me know how you truly feel.’
‘But we could save a country together.’
‘As well your reputation,’ she observed shrewdly.
‘Not to mention yours,’ Cesar countered. ‘Just tell me what you want. Name your price.’
‘Name my price?’ she repeated in a strangled whisper.
‘Clumsy words,’ he admitted, raking his hair with frustration. ‘I told you I’m no good with words.’
But the damage had been done.
‘This marriage will lift the mood of my people—’
‘You can’t even call it our marriage,’ she burst out, unable to keep silent any longer.
‘It would instantly make a mockery of the article,’ Cesar continued as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘Despite what the writer suggests, there was no seedy liaison between us at the training camp but an unfolding love story that will now have a beautiful ending.’
‘Is that what you truly believe?’ she asked. Hope pushed its way through the tangle of weeds like a green shoot.
Only to be trampled on.
‘I’ve told you to name your price, Sofia, so please tell me what you would like to make this marriage happen. Please, appreciate that this is a difficult situation for both of us and time is short.’
She shook her head sadly. ‘Not for you. You seem to have it all worked out. Would you like my bank details for a money transfer or will you pay me in pieces of silver?’
‘Stop it,’ Cesar advised calmly. ‘If you think about this logically, you’ll come to agree that nothing could be more uplifting for my people than a wedding between us.’
How could they be so far apart? She hid an agony of disillusionment behind another question. ‘Have you discussed this with my brothers?’
‘I thought you were old enough to make your own decision.’
‘As I thought you experienced enough in the ways of the world to know what’s right,’ she fired back. ‘What you’re proposing is a marriage of convenience—convenient for you, that is.’
‘All I want is for you to be happy and safe.’
‘You have a strange way of showing it.’
‘Do I?’ Cesar asked, seeming perplexed.
‘Asking me to be your wife surely requires me to say yes before arrangements can be made? A little more thought and preparation generally goes into these things than the advice to “Browse the Internet”.’
Cesar raked his hair. ‘But you can have anything you want.’
‘Things don’t matter.’ She waited, and then waited some more while Cesar stared at her as if she was speaking a foreign language. ‘I give up,’ she said at last. ‘Seduction might be your forte, but when it comes to wooing a woman you have zero idea. It takes more than a vault full of priceless jewels to build trust, and more than pomp and ceremony to impress me. If you had suggested a small, informal barefoot wedding on the beach of your private island, with just a band of twine around my finger and some fresh flowers in my hair—’
