And that was saying something.
Her body was now permanently addicted to his, the craving he engendered in her a constant pulsing ache in her innermost being. It shamed her she could be so affected by physical need, but when she considered how gloriously he fulfilled those needs, she wanted to weep.
What did she have to look forward to if he let her go? She knew she'd never love another man as she loved Hakim. No matter what he felt for her, the feelings she had for him were too deep, too permanent to ever be repeated with someone else.
When she went to bed that night, it was with a great deal of frustration. The wedding was to take place in two days' time and if those days followed the pattern of this one, she would not get a chance to talk to Hakim.
She lay in the bed of silk quilts and cushions, listening to the sounds of the desert and camp nightlife outside. A group of men walked by and their masculine laughter filtered through the thick wall of the tent. The camels were silent, but not all the animals had gone to sleep.
The air had cooled significantly and she snuggled into the blankets, glad for their layers between,her and the cold.
She was on the verge of sleep when a hand closed over her mouth. Adrenaline shot through her system, sending her into fight or flight mode and she jackknifed into a sitting position, only to be trapped in a steel-like grip.
"It is I, Hakim."
As his voice whispered directly into her ear penetrated her terror, she relaxed, her body going almost boneless from relief.
He removed his hand from her mouth.
"What are you doing here?"
"Shh." Again he spoke straight into her ear, his warm breath fanning the always current flicker of desire in her to a small flame. "Do not speak loudly or we will be discovered."
"Okay," she whispered, "but what are you doing' here?"
"We must talk."
He helped her to stand and the cold air quickly penetrated her thin nightgown, but he was wrapping her in a cloak that smelled of him before she could voice her discomfort.
He led her outside the tent, via a passageway she had noticed earlier. It surprised her to discover there was more than one entrance to the outside in the large, but temporary dwelling. Once they were outside, she realized she had forgotten shoes as her tender feet came into contact with sharper objects than sand.
Once again, Hakim seemed to know before she spoke and he swung her up into his arms, carrying her beyond the light cast by the torches of the Bedouin camp.
He stopped and sank gracefully to the ground, keeping her close as he did so. She found herself in her husband's lap and felt the unmistakable evidence of arousal against her hip.
She tried to move away.
He tightened his grip on her. "Relax."
"You're..." She couldn't finish the sentence.
"I know." He sounded disgruntled and angry, but at least she knew his desire for her was real.
She also liked knowing he'd felt the need to talk before the ceremony. It meant he wasn't completely sure of her. His arrogance actually had limits.
She waited for him to talk, but he seemed preoccupied. One hand wrapped in the strands of her hair and his face was averted, as if he was contemplating the stars.
Finally he spoke. "We are to be married by Bedouin ceremony in two days' time."
"So I've been told."
He faced her. "According to Latifah's husband, you have been engaged in preparations all day."
"Yes." If he wanted to know if she planned to go through with it, he could ask.
"Have you considered you might be carrying my child?"
The question was so far from the one she expected
that at first, she did not take it in. When she did, she stopped breathing for several seconds.
Could she be pregnant? With a sinking sensation in the region of her heart, she had to admit it was likely. Their marriage had coincided with the most fertile time in her cycle. It had not been planned that way, but the result could very well be another al Kadar. Her baby. Hakim's baby. Their baby.
Her plummeting heart made an unexpected dive for the surface. The thought of carrying Hakim's child was not an unpleasant one, but she could hardly divorce the father of her child before it was even born.
"No"
"No you have not considered it, or no, you are not pregnant?"
"I hadn't considered it."
"That is funny, for I have thought of little else since the first time I planted my seed in your womb."
She went hot all over at his words, becoming even more keenly aware of the hardness under her hip. "You don't know they got planted."
"Considering how frequently we made love, I would say it is very likely."
She couldn't deny it, so she said nothing.
"Is the thought of having my child an unpleasant one?"