‘Not that again. Are we going to revisit that particular argument now?’
‘No,’ Rico answered tightly. ‘We are not.’
Which made Halina’s stomach clench unpleasantly because she didn’t think she wanted to talk about the other matters that might be on Rico’s agenda. The courage that had been buoying her briefly, sparked by his sheer pig-headedness, trickled away.
She glanced at him from under her lashes, taking in the obdurate set of his jaw, the sharp cheekbones, the hard eyes. She’d forgotten how intimidating he was, especially when he wasn’t trying to get her into bed.
The memory of just how easily she’d tumbled into that bed made her cringe with shame. She’d had nearly two months of public and private shame to deal with—her father’s icy fury, her mother’s heartbroken disappointment, her own inner torment. Even the lowliest of the palace staff had sensed her humiliation. No one had remained unscathed by her actions, least of all herself. When she thought of what she’d almost had to do...
She tossed the bread aside, her stomach too unsettled even to think of food. Rico frowned.
‘I said you should eat.’
‘I know, but I don’t feel up to it. And I don’t think you want me retching in this small space.’ She wrapped her arms around her knees, feeling lonelier even than she had when she’d been at the Palace of Forgotten Sands, and the days had been endless and empty. Now she was in a tiny, enclosed space with a man who seemed to be taking up all the air and energy and she felt even more alone...and afraid. The relief that she’d been rescued was replaced by a greater fear. ‘Frying pan and fire’ came alarmingly to mind.
‘Try the meat,’ Rico said gruffly, handing her a strip of meat that looked as tough as leather. Halina couldn’t tell if he was trying to be kind or just insistent. She took it reluctantly, because she really was feeling wobbly inside. Even though she didn’t like Rico’s methods or manner, she knew he was right. She’d lost nearly a stone since the nausea had hit. For her baby’s sake, she needed to eat.
‘Has your morning sickness been very bad?’ he asked after a moment as she worried the salted meat with her teeth.
‘Yes.’ Halina swallowed. ‘For the last month or so I’ve barely been able to keep anything down.’ She managed a wry smile, her tone tart. ‘Which is why I look so terrible.’
Rico, of course, did not look remotely abashed by her reminder. ‘You need to take better care of yourself. Why hasn’t your doctor prescribed something for the nausea?’
Halina stared at him, torn between fury and an exhausted exasperation. ‘I haven’t seen a doctor.’ Not one she wanted to remember, anyway. The one doctor she’d seen... But, no. She didn’t want to think about that.
‘What?’ Rico’s mouth dropped open in outrage before he snapped it shut, his eyes narrowing. ‘Why on earth not?’
She shook her head wearily. ‘You have no idea.’
‘Then enlighten me.’
Halina sat back, wondering whether she had the strength or will to explain to Rico about the last two months, and then no doubt be subjected to his scorn and condemnation—or maybe just his disbelief.
‘Lina.’ His voice was rough, urgent. ‘Halina. Tell me what you mean.’
‘I was called Lina as a child,’ she said inconsequentially. ‘I didn’t lie when I told you that’s what my name was.’
‘That is hardly my concern now.’
‘But it was before.’ She was splitting hairs, but she was too emotionally fragile to battle all this out now. ‘Rico, I’m tired and it’s raging out there. Can’t we leave this for a little while?’ Maybe another day she’d have the strength to admit everything she’d endured. As for now, she just wanted to sleep, if she could.
The wind had picked up even more and was battering the sides of the tent, howling around them, a relentless monster eager for prey.
Rico gave a terse nod. ‘Very well. As you say, now is not the time or the place—but I will have answers, Halina. Of that there is no doubt.’
‘Fine.’
He unrolled two sleeping bags and shook them out. With an entirely different kind of queasy feeling, Halina realised how close they’d be sleeping to each other—shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. Not that anything was going to happen in the middle of a sandstorm, and with her feeling like a plate of left-over pudding. But still... She was aware of him. Even now.
She adjusted the shapeless tunic and trousers she wore, as if they could offer her more coverage. As if Rico would even be tempted. She knew she looked terrible and he’d already told her so. Feeling silly for even considering such a possibility, Halina scooted into the sleeping bag and drew it up to her chin.
Rico eyed her for a moment, his mouth compressed, a look of cool amusement on his features.
‘Are you worried for your virtue?’ he drawled. ‘Because, I assure you, it’s not in any danger.’
‘I don’t have any virtue left to lose,’ Halina retorted. ‘You made sure of that.’
Rico’s face darkened. ‘Are you going to blame me for that now? Because—’