The Life She Left Behind Read Online Free PDF Page B

starving and in no mood to take garbage off anyone. Least of all Taj.
    He shrugged, as if shaking off her anger. “I was. Sort of. But the way the more traditional citizens of my country think is not necessarily the way I think.”
    â€œAnd how do you think, Sheikh Taj Ahmad, because I think I’m entitled to know that seeing as I’m about to leg-shackle myself to you for the rest of our lives.”
    Something flashed in his dark eyes. Amusement mixed with something deeper. Deadlier. “A leg shackle doesn’t do anything for me fantasy-wise. Handcuffs, perhaps.”
    â€œI am in no mood,” she said, keeping her sharp glare trained on him.
    â€œMy apologies,” he said, his voice stiff. “I expect a wife to meet my needs. To provide me with heirs.”
    â€œWhat?” she asked, leaning forward in her seat. “Meet your needs? What does that mean?”
    â€œI expect for her to share my bed, to accompany me to events, to have my children. That’s straightforward enough.”
    â€œThat’s…sexist enough,” she said.
    â€œHow? It has nothing to do with you being a woman, and everything to do with being the wife of a sheikh. I have particular duties as ruler, and you have particular duties as the spouse of a ruler.”
    â€œSo if I was sheikh…”
    â€œYou very likely wouldn’t be called sheikh.”
    She let out an exasperated breath. “Fine. If I were sheikha,” she said, drawing out the syllables, “then you would be expected to fulfill my sexual needs and hang on my arm at events?”
    â€œThat sounds fair,” he said, a frown marring his features. “I take it you are not thrilled with my expectations?”
    â€œDoes it matter?” she asked, feeling panic start to rise in her breast. “Does any of it matter? I’m stuck. You have the power here. You and I both know that.”
    â€œI am not a tyrant, neither am I a dictator. I get no pleasure from beating you into submission. What do you expect from a husband?”
    Love. If there was love, so many other things could be forgiven. But without it…what was there? “I…I would like to be considered as a person, not an ornament. I don’t want my life to begin and end with my husband’s needs. I want him to consider mine. I want a husband who will love his children and take an interest in them.” A husband who loves me.
    His brows were drawn together, his expression contemplative. “It is not how things are done.”
    â€œWhat isn’t?”
    â€œThere are…certain things expected of the Sheikh of Rahat, things I learned as a child and…they did not include caring for children or…many of the other things you mentioned. My duty is to my people.”
    â€œBut if you can’t love the people in your household, how can you expect to care for those you rule?”
    â€œRuling requires distance and a firm hand.”
    Something inside her deflated and sank down to her toes. “It’s the love that you have trouble with.”
    â€œI did not learn it.”
    The way he said it, so authoritative and so final, told her he never intended to try.

Chapter Seven
    Angelina pulled her thin robe more tightly around herself and stepped out into the gardens, the cobblestones, cooled by the night air, felt good on her feet. Calming. Soothing.
    She followed one of the paths that led into the center of the lavishly kept landscape, her thoughts turning over that afternoon’s conversation with Taj. Taj didn’t know how to love. He hadn’t learned how.
    A shame since she loved him.
    She was certain of that now. That she loved him. That she had loved for him for years, and that no matter how bad their first parting had been, the good memories would always be stronger.
    â€œWhat brings you out here?”
    Angelina whirled around to find the voice in the darkness and nearly ran into Taj. “What are