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“Your father and you have forgotten tradition, our roots, the very fabric that makes the Bedouin life”

Every word, spoken in a soft yet steely tone, was true

To assume that they would have harnant or otherwise, had been pure ignorance and blind prejudice

The tribes were known for their hospitality, their generosity to even an eneendary

“We give our women protection, a respectable place in life Not keep them as prisoners or mistresses”

That stateainst his sense of honor

Knowing the route to the oasis like the back of his hand, he chanced a glance at Lauren Her head tilted back against the seat, and her eyes closed, he saw the resolute tilt of her chin, the long line of her throat, her fingers laced tightly in her lap

Still, there was a knot in his chest, a leftover from his fear for her and the baby

“This wo” the chief had said “Marry her, Zafir Make her your sheikha and ill end this enet what your father did to one of our daughters”

Bringing the tribes back into the fold would be the advantage he needed Not even the High Council could fault his power, or his reign then For he would be fixing a fracture in the very fabric of their nation

Behraat would be strong and one again, after three decades of being torn apart by his father’s selfish and scandalous pursuit of a young, innocent woman from the tribes

All he had to do washis child, the woman that set fire to his blood, the woman who

Might hate to be used as a pawn in his game for power, his conscience piped up

It is a gift, Zafir, soift you have received in your hard, betrayed, duty-bound, cursed life, it whispered

Lauren and this child and the ability to finally unite Behraat and rule it, it was all a gift

She had alanted his commitment, a definition to their relationship, hadn’t she?

Here it was The biggest commitment he had ever made, except to Behraat

He couldn’t squander this gift

Not if it would bring legitimacy to his child and his power