He laughed again, although it had a bitter tinge to it. He didn’t push her away and she was unbelievably glad for that. “No. But I’m weak enough to wish I was anyone but who I am.”
“No, Zafir. This…pain I see in your eyes, this grief, this love for a man whom you have every reason to hate, your courage to do the right thing by Behraat, by me, by your father, by everyone that falls in your sphere…this is what makes you you, Zafir. And why I love you so much.”
His eyes widened, his chin jerked back. As though she had taken a swing at him. As though it was impossible, even unacceptable for her to feel such a thing for him. As if it was the worst fate he’d ever faced. “Lauren…”
“Why do you sound so shocked?” she said, determined to hold on to her flailing courage. That he was so stunned was not a bad thing, she reassured herself. “But this isn’t the time, right? While your father’s waiting. So go see him.”
* * *
Zafir never returned the night he had gone to see his father. After waiting for a few hours, Lauren had fallen asleep, still worried about him.
About them.
A furor of activity took place once it had become known that the old sheikh was out of the coma. Not more than a day had gone by where he hadn’t had numerous meetings with council members, Ahmed had told her when she’d begged him for information.
All with Zafir present, she’d learned. Even the tribal chiefs were there now.
In between those long meetings, she had gone to see Rashid, too. The unresolved animosity between father and son, mostly from Zafir had rattled her. When his father had asked Zafir to leave them alone, he’d point-blank refused.
To which, Rashid had leveled him a long look.
Rashid, his gaze incisively intelligent, had quizzed her about her family, her life in New York. But couldn’t really say much with his son watching them like a hawk.
Two days later, Zafir found her in the library, one of her favorite rooms in the palace. Dressed in a gray silk suit that lovingly draped over his shoulders, he was all business.
A team of aides and the ever-present Arif stood outside the door.
“I have a three-week trip to Asia,” he said regretfully, after kissing her, right in front of the library staff and Ahmed.
“Three weeks?” she sounded dismayed, and for once she didn’t care. She was tired of seeing those shadows in his eyes. Tired of wondering if he was pulling away from her. Tired of the constant ache in her chest. “You’re not doing this to avoid me, are you, Zafir?” She’d no idea where she had found the strength to pose that question, this courage to put herself out there when it was becoming more and more obvious that it was the last thing he wanted to hear.
His mouth flattened. “I’m trying to get these long trips out of the way so that I can have an easier schedule when the baby comes. We’ll talk when I come back. I promise, Lauren.”
She had held on to him tightly, curbing the words that rose to her mouth, wanting to be given voice again and again. Locked away the wet heat that pricked at her eyes. The depth of her feelings for him, the longing for him, it wasn’t something she was used to yet.
“I’ve told my father,” he said, “that he’s to leave you alone while I’m gone. Don’t let him bully you in my absence.”
* * *
The next couple of weeks passed in a blur. Just as Zafir had warned her, Rashid had summoned her twice but she had found excuses both times. Not that she was afraid of him. She was more worried she would rip into him for Zafir.
Her first ultrasound was due in a few days and Zafir and she had argued over the phone about whether they should learn the sex of the baby. And when he laughed like that, when he told her that he couldn’t wait to kiss her, everything was perfect in her world.
She’d just finished her yoga class and showered when Ahmed informed her that Salma was in the city and wanted to visit with her.
Thrilled, Lauren welcomed Salma with a hug. She took the chubby infant from Salma, and cuddled her. Farrah, who had stayed on to see Salma, translated between them.
Laughing, they chatted together happily. But when Farrah repeated something Salma had said, Lauren was confused. “I’m sorry, what does she mean, she’s happy I accepted the arrangement?”
Farrah asked Salma to elaborate. Salma’s response, translated by Farrah, “She says that her grandfather, the chief of the Dahab, made a promise to Zafir. In return for you saving Salma’s and the baby’s life, he would bring the tribes together, help Zafir unite them with state. As long as Zafir stopped following in his father’s footsteps and married the nurse. With the tribes back in the fold, the High Council finally had to accept his rule.”
Lauren stilled where she stood, a kind of numbness spreading through her limbs. He hadn’t even wasted an evening before he had proposed to her. And this was why…
Like everyone else in her life, she had only been secondary to his actual goal. Like always.
She slid to the settee in a shaking heap, her chest so tight that she couldn’t breathe.
“Head down, Lauren. Between your legs,” Farrah’s voice sounded sharp, as if it was rolling in through a fog.
Breath came rushing into her in huge gulps and with it the sound of her heart shattering. She heard Farrah rushing Salma out and closing the door. Heard her call her name, her face worried.
But as she raised her head, and scrunched her knees up, all Lauren could see, hear, feel was Zafir.
“I need you, Lauren. Unlike anything or anyone else in the world.”
He’d so cleverly laid out a trap for her without really saying anything, let her spin a story with his teasing glances and caresses and words.
Manipulated her into believing what they had was more. When it was not even the mere marriage of convenience she had thought.
Used her guilt that she had hidden the truth from him. Used their unborn child. Used her growing feelings for him.
Played the part of the charming, teasing man who was beginning to feel something for her.
All for Behraat.
She hadn’t asked for the fantasy of it. She hadn’t asked for him to tease her, and charm her and pretend as if he cared about her.
You’re the fool, Lauren, something nasty whispered inside her head. You’ve always been a fool for him, since the beginning.
Again and again, he’d proved that only Behraat counted for him. It was only Behraat that had his heart.
Pulling in a long breath, she got up from the settee and told Farrah that she wanted to lie down.
Behind her bedroom door, she crumpled onto the bed, every inch of her thrumming with fury.
She couldn’t bear to be here another moment. Couldn’t bear this ache in her chest. Couldn’t bear to live the rest of her life with a man who had, again and again, not only showed her how little she meant to him, but used her and their situation.
How could she ever trust him again? How could she trust herself, when apparently, she could spin a fantasy out of nothing?
Afternoon gave way to evening and she shivered at the sudden chill coming in from the balcony.
She splashed water on her face, changed her clothes, called Abdul and instructed him to arrange a meeting for her. Only one person would help her leave the palace, the city and Behraat without notifying Zafir. Without caring about bringing down Zafir’s wrath.
She had to leave before he was back. Or she would never leave.
Worse, she would live the rest of her life, knowing that she would never have his love but crave it anyway, caught in a misery of her own making.
And she would not be alone in her misery.
* * *
Zafir checked his watch, calculated the time difference and then dismissed his staff.
Picking up his phone, he walked to the balcony of his forty-fifth-floor suite and looked out at Beijing. It was a damp, cold night and he itched to be back in Behraat, in the palace, besides Lauren.
Every time he closed his eyes, he remembered the stricken look in her gaze, the tremble of her lips as she asked him if he was avoiding her…
Always challenging him, always making him wonder what else was there to life, what else he hadn’t known, what else, first Rashid and then Zafir himself, had deprived himself of in life…
Like that impromptu birthday party.
Her cell phone rang a few times before she picked up.
“Hello, Zafir.” She sounded groggy, tired, hoarse.
His nape prickled. Something prowled inside of him then, a knowing, a feeling of fear, of loss, of a wide yearning chasm.
Something was very wrong.
Even her hello sounded distant, full of a weight he didn’t understand. He shouldn’t have left her, the first thought pounded into him. He shouldn’t have been avoiding her. He shouldn’t have…
Lost his head over her in the first place? Shouldn’t have let her weaken him like this?
Shouldn’t have fallen in love like this at all.
Because now, she made him want to defy the entire world for her, she made him want to do the impossible just so he could be worthy of her love. She made him want to damn himself just so he could be with her.
The murmur of a male voice in the background pulled his attention away from what it seemed had been as inevitable as breathing. He pressed his thumb at his temple, took a long breath.
Then he heard Lauren’s low answer and then the door closed again.
Ahmed wouldn’t come into her bedroom, even if Lauren considered him a friend…
He still couldn’t believe how easily she had his staff eating out of her hand, how easily she had integrated herself into such a different, difficult life. And she had done it with barely any complaint.