“And none of this is your choice to make.” She dropped her arms to her sides and faced him without the anger she knew she should be feeling.
She was tired of arguing with him. She was tired of the lectures and she was tired of trying to force him to treat her like an adult rather than a child.
“Paige, would you come between Abram and me?” he finally questioned her harshly.
“Khalid!” Marty gasped as she turned on him furiously. “That’s low, even for you.”
But Paige wasn’t surprised in the least that he had attempted such emotional blackmail. It was reminiscent of her childhood years when he had used her emotions to get what he wanted every time she attempted to defy him.
“Would you really lose me over this?” she asked in return. “Because that’s what will happen if you keep standing me and Abram. Whether or not he wants me, or I want him, shouldn’t be tainted by your demands that we stay away from each other. Because honestly, Khalid, there have been times when the very fact that you didn’t want me to do something made it all that more appealing. Do you really want to chance that in this situation?”
“So I’m to just stand by and watch him break your heart when he becomes the man he is and he tries to subjugate you as we both know he will? He may have different ideas on sexuality and women’s rights on the surface, Paige, but trust me when I tell you that only in your sexuality will he be more accepting. He is still a product of the culture he was raised within.”
Paige could only stare back at him incredulously. “How little you know your brother, or your sister for that matter,” she told him, pity and anger converging together. “Does he beat his women, Khalid? Does he lock them up, or demand that they have no life outside of him? Does he have six wives and twelve children that I know nothing about?”
Khalid’s frown deepened. “You know he would never do such things.”
“Then your only objection is that you’re worried Abram may try to curb my independence?”
“You’ll forget the meaning of the word independence,” he told her.
“Has Leyla forgotten the independence you taught her?” Leyla was one of the six young women Khalid had raised after his father sent them to Khalid as teenagers. They were young women Azir had bought and then given to his son to begin his own little harem.
Leyla was engaged to a young man who had come to America with his parents from Saudi Arabia.
“Leyla’s fiancé is much younger than Abram,” he snapped. “Don’t you understand that, Paige? Abram is a full-grown man who has spent much of his life in the Middle East. A man that will never—”
“Stop preaching at me,” she demanded roughly, her head practically ringing with the list of objections he was repeating from earlier. “You say Abram would attempt to make me live by his rules? What the hell do you believe you’re doing? You’re trying to force me to do what you want, whether it’s what I want or not.”
And that was beginning to piss her off. She had tried to avoid these confrontations for the past few days. Several times she had simply left the room only to have him follow her and continue the argument.
“Paige, I’m trying to protect you,” he snarled. His frustration was readily apparent but she couldn’t make herself feel sorry for him, or even suggest they agree to disagree.
“Go to your party, Khalid. I’m sick of your lectures and I’ve had enough of your judgmental attitude. Now leave my room.”
She didn’t wait for him to leave. Paige turned and stomped to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
Then, the tears she’d only barely held back filled her eyes and began to fall down her cheeks. She didn’t sob. She remained silent, pressing her hands to her lips and tried to stop the tears as she had so many times in the past.
She loved her brother. Khalid had always been a mainstay in her life, even if he had frustrated the hell out of her. He’d been amused at her father’s nerves when she rode her bicycle without training wheels, and laughed at her mother’s fears when Paige got her driver’s license.
He had always acted damned strange about Abram though, despite the fact that Abram had been married the first time Paige had met him and his wife Lessa.
Paige had been drawn to Abram from the first moment. She’d been fascinated by this man who looked so much like her brother, who her brother called a brother, yet he wasn’t her brother. She’d only been nine when she first met him, and he’d been nineteen and already married.
The relationship between him and his brother had at first confused the hell out of her. After all, Khalid was her brother, so why wasn’t Abram?
That confusion had amused her parents and Abram’s wife Lessa, but Khalid hadn’t seemed nearly so amused by it.
Paige liked Abram’s wife, Lessa, enjoyed her laughter and her quiet manner the few times she’d been able to spend any time with her. Lessa was murdered several years after Paige met her, and Paige’s heart had broken for Abram.
He’d loved his wife, there had been no doubt of it. Over the next few years, he’d been a regular in her life. He’d visited when her family vacationed in Cairo, and joined Khalid in Greece when he returned for their mother’s birthday.
She was eighteen when things suddenly changed, when he had looked at her for the first time and hadn’t seen a child. When his gaze had flicked to her br**sts, encased in the bodice of the strapless ball gown she had worn.
He had danced with her, his hand riding low on her back and pressing her closer to him than any of the younger men she had danced with had done.
Her heart had raced so hard she had thought it would tear from her chest. He’d stared down at her, somber and intense, holding her eyes as she swore she saw some message swirling in the depths of his own.