‘Why didn’t you divorce me a year ago?’ she demanded.
Tariq stepped from the shower, pushing his hair back from his brow, all bronzed masculinity and easy grace. ‘Obviously because I did not want to break that final link, regardless of how tenuous that link might have appeared. And I am very much afraid that, on the subject of divorce, I have no good news to share.’
‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’ Watching him towel himself dry, Faye could feel familiar warmth stirring in her pelvis and she averted her eyes hurriedly.
‘Some time ago, certain discreet enquiries cast that question open in a most revealing debate between the high court judges and, this evening, I learned much that I did not know. No ancestor of mine has ever applied for a divorce. There is therefore no facility for the ruler of Jumar to divorce…no case law, no nothing,’ Tariq stated with flat emphasis.
Faye’s lips parted company. ‘But what about all that turning round three times and saying you divorce me stuff?’
‘That must be done in a court before a high court judge and may obtain a divorce for any one of my subjects. But not for me. At the same time I threw those angry and foolish words at you on our wedding day, I was not aware of that. Indeed…I was so angry, I hardly knew what I was saying to you,’ Tariq admitted between compressed lips.
‘But you’ve got to be able to get a divorce—’
‘Presumably the law would eventually work out how to allow me to divorce when I stand outside the laws of our country but…’ Tariq rested shimmering golden eyes on her ‘…I don’t want a divorce.’
Faye trembled. ‘Yes, you do…well, you did when those discreet enquiries were casting open questions to some legal debate between judges!’
‘No, it was my father who had those enquiries made some months before his death—’
‘Your…father?’
‘I had no idea he was considering divorcing Rafi’s mother but, evidently, he was. It was Latif who enlightened me on that news this evening.’ The towel draped round his lean hips, Tariq crossed the floor and rested his hands on her shoulders to stop her from spinning away out of reach. ‘I will say again. I don’t want a divorce…do you think you could listen?’
‘Well, we can’t stay together, so obviously I just go home and…the legal stuff can be sorted out some time later, some time never! I really don’t care how or when.’
‘Faye…’ Tariq breathed tautly. ‘Until yesterday, you were happy. There is no reason why that happiness should not be recaptured—’
‘Maybe you’d like me to go on acting like your mistress!’
‘Considering that believing yourself to be my mistress appeared to give you quite a thrill on several recent occasions, only you can answer that question.’
Her cheeks flamed at that rejoinder for there was truth in it. Pulling away, she stalked back into the bedroom.
‘I care about you and I don’t want to lose you but my patience is running out—’
‘Just like my patience did when you were content to misjudge me for the supposed blackmail that caused all the trouble between us in the first place!’
‘But I stopped judging you,’ Tariq shot back at her with icy force. ‘You said you wanted more than anything else in the world to be my wife because you loved me and, in the space of hours, I have forgiven everything and let go of every piece of my bitterness. Do you think I have no heart? Do you think I did not feel your sincerity?’
Faye did not want to be reminded of the more embarrassing things she had uttered in the grip of her overtaxed emotions. ‘You forgave me for the blackmail…’
‘As I was planning to marry you in any case before your stepfather intervened,’ Tariq delivered in a velvety smooth tone, ‘It was not a major problem.’
And Faye picked up on that admission and reeled in shock inwardly as he no doubt intended her to reel. Fighting Tariq was a constant debilitating struggle, she recognised in furious frustration. He was fast on his feet and kept on throwing the unexpected back at her. But Tariq had been planning to marry her even before Percy tried to blackmail him? Never in her life had Faye been so desperate to snatch at the carrot offered to her as a distraction. But she would not allow herself to snatch.
‘But you still didn’t trust my word.’ She flung that promising branch on the fire with satisfaction. ‘I have every right to leave you—’
‘What is right? Strive to recall Rafi, whose love you have also won and who is a great deal less able than I am to cope with another major loss in his life!’ Tariq ground out fiercely. ‘Before you pack, you go and you tell him why you are leaving him after teaching him to love you for I will have no part of that dialogue!’
And at the exact same moment as he strode off in evident disgust with her into the room he used as a dressing room, the anger and the ferocious need to hit back every way she could fell away from Faye. She slumped back against the foot of the bed, her legs suddenly shaking beneath her.
As if she were someone waking from a dream, the previous twenty-four hours replayed within her memory and she squirmed. She recalled ignoring him all through the night while he’d sat by her bed in the private hospital room. She had acted like a huffy, ill-mannered child but he had not uttered a word of reproof. He had behaved as though her accident had been his fault. He had bowed that proud head and begged her to forgive him. And she had lain there in that bed, relishing her power like a real shrew and stoking up her resentments to new heights. Confronting him at the Haja had been even less forgivable.
She loved him. But it was as if her love had got lost for twenty-four hours, yet it was her pride Tariq had hurt more than anything else. She was his wife when all was said and done. A wife by default, though. He had not known that divorce might be a real challenge to achieve and he no longer wanted a divorce. Indeed, according to him he had never wanted a divorce enough to even find out how to go about getting one, even when he had believed she was heartless and mercenary. But then he also had the needs of three children to consider, children whom she had encouraged to care about her, children she had been threatening to walk out on.
‘Tariq…?’ she muttered unevenly.
‘What?’ he demanded, obviously thinking she was starting on round three and ready for her now with gloves off.
‘Nothing…’
‘Surely you have not run out of steam yet?’ he growled.
‘Pretty much. I would never hurt Rafi or Basma or Hayat,’ Faye told him very quietly.
‘If you are set on leaving, you should go now for, the longer you stay, the harder it will be on the children.’ Tariq expelled his breath in a hiss. ‘I have nothing more to say. I have said it all.’
The silence weighted Faye down with its electrifying tension. A current of fear new to her experience was infiltrating her. ‘I got carried away,’ she said, dry-mouthed. ‘I’m sorry.’
Tariq said nothing. She watched him zip up faded denim jeans that accentuated his lithe muscular physique and pull on a dark green shirt, more casual clothing that she had ever seen him wear. He was not watching her any more. Indeed, he might have been on his own. All of a sudden it was as if she had become invisible. His bold profile grim, he was not ignoring her as she had ignored him; he simply seemed buried in his own thoughts.
‘I’m sorry for…everything.’ At that moment everything seemed to encompass so much Faye did n
ot know where to begin.
‘I’m sorry…you’re sorry…the children will be sorry too.’ Darkly handsome features taut and spectacular eyes cloaked, Tariq headed straight for the bedroom door.
Wide shoulders straight, he walked tall. He had magnificent carriage, she reflected numbly, and he was walking out on her without another word. But then she had been screaming at him like a banshee wailer. Yet he had kept his temper and explained all that he could with irreproachable honesty. Only it hadn’t got him anywhere and now he appeared to have decided that her leaving was possibly for the best in the long run.
‘Tariq…?’ Her voice emerged all squeaky.
‘I wish I could say something profound…’ his lean brown hand clenched on the door knob ‘…but our whole relationship has been a black comedy of errors and I am out of words. Inshallah.’
Her throat was convulsing. Her mind was an appalling blank. She could only wish she had run out of words sooner.
He opened the door and then paused. ‘What will I do with the mare?’
‘What mare?’
He turned back with a frown. ‘It was to be a surprise…Delilah, your mare that you had to sell last year. I had her traced and purchased from the riding school but she is in transit and, until you have stables again… Don’t worry, I will deal with it.’
Faye was so shaken by that unexpected revelation and conclusion, she stood there with a dropped jaw, and by the time she unfroze and decided to chase after him he was gone. Really gone, for absolutely nobody seemed to have the slightest idea where he had gone, which dismayed her.