Again that gentle huff of laughter. ‘Getting your brother to talk about feelings was almost impossible.’
‘You managed it.’ Asim and Jacqui were blissfully happy. They were one of the reasons she’d had the nerve to propose marriage. She’d wanted at least a modified version of their happy family, even if it was centred around respect and child-rearing rather than passionate devotion. She drew a fortifying breath. ‘How did you do it?’
‘What? Drag your brother, kicking and screaming, out of his comfort zone to confront his feelings?’ Jacqui paused and Samira sat forward, eager for the answer. ‘It wasn’t easy.’ There was no laugh in her voice now. ‘I shared myself with him. I was totally honest.’
Samira cringed. Tariq already he knew her secrets: her desire for a family and her miscarriage, her hopes for this child. Surely that was enough? All she wanted was to resume the intimacy they’d shared until last month.
‘Samira? Are you there?’
‘Yes.’
‘But you’re not sure you wanted to hear that?’
Jacqui was too perceptive. ‘You’ve given me a lot to think about.’
She just wasn’t sure it was the answer for her.
* * *
Samira smoothed the rich cream satin over her thighs. It felt decadently luxurious. A baby bulge didn’t stop a woman from appreciating beautiful lingerie.
She twisted in front of the workshop’s full-length mirror. The neckline plunged deep, edged with the exquisite embroidery she’d commissioned in the mountains. She’d placed an order for more, knowing the delicate finery on the translucent fabric was just right for this design.
She had long-term plans to launch an exclusive range of lingerie. The project gave her a new creative outlet and would provide valuable income for the village women.
Her mouth twisted. Who’d have thought pregnancy would inspire her to design slinky nightgowns? She might be halfway through her pregnancy but hormones only made her more aware of her body’s needs.
Or maybe that was Tariq.
Her hands bunched in the slithery fabric, her pulse tripping. Her husband made her hot and bothered with just a look or the casual brush of his hand.
Which was tragic when a casual brush of the hand was all she’d had from him since she’d told him about the baby. That and his solicitous grip at her elbow whenever she descended the long staircase to the royal reception rooms. He always managed to be at her side then, the epitome of protectiveness.
As if she were some feeble, ancient relative. The thought infuriated her. And hurt.
A commotion at the door had her spinning around just as a tiny body launched itself at her.
‘Mama!’ Small arms wrapped around her legs, hugging tight.
‘Risay.’ She bent to pick him up but wasn’t fast enough.
‘Let me.’ Tariq was already there, disengaging hands that she saw now were sticky with honey, and lifting Risay high. ‘I’m sorry about your...’ He stopped as he took in her décolletage.
Instantly her nipples tightened, grazing the soft fabric. She drew in a sharp breath as heat shafted through her body at his look.
Naked but for a thin layer of satin, she felt too exposed. The speculative gleam in Tariq’s eyes told her he hadn’t missed her response. Worse, it created a needy, melting sensation between her legs.
‘Mama!’ Risay leaned towards her, arms outstretched, and she dragged her attention back to him, smiling at his cheeky grin.
‘He’s not supposed to bother you while you’re working.’ Tariq’s voice was like the stroke of silken gauze across her bare arms and shoulders. She shivered and kept her eyes on Risay.
‘I don’t mind.’ She took Risay’s hand and leaned in, brushing his cheek with a gentle kiss. ‘It’s rare that they escape Sofia’s eagle eye.’ Footsteps made her turn. Sure enough, there was Sofia, tutting under her breath.
‘My apologies, sir, ma’am.’ She turned to the toddler who gave her a broad grin. ‘And as for you, Master Trouble, you’ll come back right now and finish your meal.’
‘Mama,’ he said defiantly.
Samira couldn’t prevent a tiny smile of delight. Discipline was important, of course, and her hours in the work room were precious if she wanted to keep her business ticking over till she was ready to devote more time to it again. But she couldn’t be angry that Risay wanted to be with her. Or that he called her Mama.
‘I’ll be along soon. After you’ve finished eating.’