“Don’t be so smug. They’ll show up sooner than later.”
“And you do not wish to see them? To share the happy news in person?”
“What part of I don’t want to tell anyone isn’t sticking with you, Zahir?”
He frowned, his eyes dark with disapproval. “It seems to me, you are the one regretting the advent of our child.”
She opened her mouth to reply that of course she regretted becoming pregnant, but snapped it shut again on the words. Words, once spoken, could never be unsaid.
And she would never say such a thing about her baby, no matter the change in circumstances it brought to her life. The truth was, Angele had spent more years believing she would one day marry Zahir than the few months determined not to do so.
It was time to put her big girl panties on and deal with it. She was going to be Princess Angele bin Faruq al Zohra, and one day—God willing far into the future—she would be queen.
“No matter what the complications, I do not regret this baby.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “But I’m not up to presenting pure joy and celebration for my parents’ sake, either. At the very least, I’m fighting a constant battle with nausea and an on-again-off-again vertigo that is truly disturbing.”
He nodded, his handsome face set in lines of concentration. “I have been researching how best to treat morning sickness that has the poor manners not to confine itself to mornings.”
“I’ve tried ginger and soda crackers. It helps a little, but I’m still not holding my food down.”
“There are other options I read about. And according to our family physician, Vitamin B6 apparently helps a large percentage of women who suffer morning sickness. He also recommends acupressure wristbands used for antinausea as the result of motion sickness.”
“I’m not sure I can hold a vitamin down long enough to do any good.”
“There is also a combination medication that can be administered orally, or in a prepared hypodermic, but it can make you tired.”
While that wouldn’t thrill her, it had to be better than being sick. “I’ll survive.”
“It would make it difficult for you to do your job.”
“Today was my last day.” She’d given a month’s notice soon after confirmation she was pregnant.
Shock widened his eyes. “You’ve already worked out your notice?”
“Yes.”
“I expected argument about the need for you to leave your job.”
“No.”
“I see.”
There would have been no point. It would be ridiculous for an editorial assistant to come to work with a bodyguard detail and she wasn’t kidding herself. Angele knew that as soon as Zahir was made aware that she carried his child, security around her was going to be a 24/7 reality.
Besides, once they were married, she’d no doubt they could and would visit the States often, but no way could she continue to live here.
“You reconciled yourself quickly to your changed circumstances,” he mused.
“I had a lot of years to plan what our eventual marriage would require.”
“This is true.” He looked lost in thought for several moments and then asked, “So, you do not refuse to live in Zohra?”
“I only said that for the press release. While I will not pretend to have been raised there, or stifle who I am for the sake of conformity, I love Zohra. But I told you I wouldn’t allow you to be blamed.”
“I was very angry when I read that press release. I do not think I have ever been angrier in all my life.” He said it so dispassionately that it would have been easy to dismiss his words as overkill.
Except for the look in his eyes. The color of molten metal, they shimmered with remembered rage at odds with the rest of his calm exterior. She was beginning to realize that for all her hero worship of the man, she didn’t know Zahir as well as she thought she had.
Seeing even a remnant of that furious reaction shocked her to her core and something told her it shouldn’t. That she should have realized he would never see her defection the way she intended it to be taken.