She sagged against the plump cushions, unwilling to acknowledge the weakness dredging through her at the feel of his hand through the thin cotton of her yellow sundress. In the next moment she realised his hand was splayed directly over their baby. Her heart jumped as she watched the same thought occur to him.
His eyelashes swept down to veil his gaze. Esme didn’t know whether to rejoice or mourn when he removed his hand a moment later.
He crossed to a nearby drinks cabinet and returned with a glass of water and a conveniently placed straw. She took a few sips under his intense scrutiny before he set the glass down.
Esme cleared her throat and tried again. ‘I think you were right. We need to wait for the proper time to do the test again. Maybe this was a false positive...’ She trailed off when a bleak, shuttered look entered his eyes.
‘Does it fill you with that much horror, the idea of carrying my child?’
Shock froze the blood in her veins. ‘What?’
‘First you wanted to take the test immediately, but now we have the results, you want to deny the truth? A more paranoid man would think the idea of marrying me, of having my child, is abhorrent to you, habiba,’ he said chillingly.
A single shake of her head was all she could manage in denial. ‘No. You misunderstand. It’s not you.’ She stopped and took a breath, struggling to calm her racing mind. ‘I just... I don’t want you to make a mistake you’ll regret,’ she finished weakly.
Her explanation tugged a mirthless smile from him. ‘You seem bent on saving me from myself. Do you think I didn’t weigh all the options before arriving at my decision?’
How could he have, when he didn’t have the whole truth?
Tell him!
‘No, I don’t think you have.’
‘Then enlighten me.’
‘I have too much baggage, Zaid. My father—’
One autocratic hand slashed through the air. ‘You’re nothing like your father,’ he dismissed. ‘If you were, I wouldn’t have given you the position you hold. My people are already beginning to embrace you. My council of advisors has approved you as my bride. And for those still swayed by that sort of thing, it’s already known that you were an innocent when I took you to my bed.’
The sharp left turn in the conversation jumbled her thoughts. ‘What? How would they have...? Oh, the sheets?’
He shrugged, not in the least bit embarrassed by referring to a subject that made her face flame. ‘The hard-core traditionalists will just have to be content with the wedding night coming after the deed.’
‘Oh, my God,’ she murmured incredulously, her head still spinning. A swipe of her tongue over lips turned dry, and she attempted again. ‘Zaid, listen to me—’
‘My grandmother was a second wife, did you know that?’ he cut across her again. Was he doing it deliberately to stop her from telling him what she needed to?
‘Um...no, I didn’t know.’
‘My grandfather’s first wife was an American,’ he continued. ‘She was fully accepted, even loved by the people until her unfortunate, premature death. So, you see, Ja’ahrians aren’t complete traditionalists when it comes to the wives their rulers take.’
‘But there are other factions that won’t welcome this, aren’t there?’ she countered. ‘Like whoever was pushing the chief of police’s buttons?’
His jaw flexed. ‘If he and they need reminding, I will merely reconfirm what I said to him the night I came for you.’
‘Which was?’
‘That you belong to me and I have taken you under my protection.’
Despite the foolish weakness threatening to overcome common sense, she grimaced. ‘You make me sound like a chattel.’
‘He was the one who intended to use you as a pawn. I needed to communicate with him in a language that he understood. I believe the message got through to him. If that’s all you’re worried about, rest easy.’
‘It’s not—’ She was interrupted for the third time, but this time by a firm knock on the door. At Zaid’s command, Fawzi entered with a tall, lean man with rimless glasses, greying hair and a brisk air of confidence.
After a hurried exchange of greetings, Fawzi departed,
and the man approached her. ‘I’m Dr Aziz. I understand you fainted?’ The question was posed in a distinct American accent.