“I can’t be bought, Zahir.”
“I have no wish to purchase you. I wish to make you happy.”
She sucked in her breath sharply, turned away and entered her room alone. She would not cry in front of him.
CHAPTER FOUR
Through the open window Zahir watched the curtains to Anna’s room sway in the cool night breeze, across the courtyard.
Happy? Did he really want to make her happy? He wanted her in his home, yes; wanted her in his bed, yes. But happy?
He moved away abruptly and opened the western window that looked out over the hammada plains and took a deep breath. Sometimes he longed for the open spaces and air of the desert, where the only dictates were ones of survival.
Life had been simple then.
He pressed both hands onto the wall either side of the window and closed his eyes tightly.
From what deep instinct had those words surfaced? He shook his head. He didn’t even want to know. He refused to know. The only reason he wanted her happy was because he wished to seduce her. Pure and simple.
He quickly undressed and got into bed determined to rid himself of the uncontrollable thoughts that haunted him. He needed the chaos to end. He willed his body and mind into the old numbing pattern that had enabled him to control not only himself but others, that had kept him and his men alive during ten years of desert warfare. And that he needed now, more than ever.
She would have to tell him.
She brushed her hair vigorously until it shone in the morning light and then stopped suddenly, arrested by the look of apprehension in her eyes.
But how do you tell a man that the child he believes to be his nephew is in fact his own child?
She took a deep breath and continued to brush her hair.
God knows. But she’d have to find a way. She’d intended never to tell Zahir that Matta was his own son. For years she’d worried that he would take Matta away from her. But now the worst had happened and it turned out that it wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened. Maybe, for Matta, it was the best.
Whatever else she might think of Zahir, he had given her son a home and a family like none she could have given him. And not only that, he’d given her the gift of completing her education: a gift she hadn’t imagined in a million years.
He deserved to know. And he also needed to know another fact of which he was very obviously unaware—that Matta couldn’t have been Abduallah’s son because she’d never lain with Abduallah, that Abduallah had no interest in her in that way because she was the wrong sex.
Suddenly she felt his presence. She turned sharply to see him silhouetted against the already bright sunlight.
“Zahir! Haven’t you heard of knocking?”
“The doors were open. I imagined that you would have closed them if you wished for privacy.”
“Privacy? What’s that? I have a child remember. I keep my door open for him. Not that it would matter, he’d come in anyway.”
“Your western ways are very strange to me. We will need privacy when we are married.”
She felt herself blushing as her mind followed the drift of his thoughts. “Really?” She looked him firmly in the eye.
“When we make love.”
She could feel his eyes caressing her as surely as if his fingers touched her lips and his hands traced the curves of her body. She took a deep breath.
“Remember, that’s not part of the agreement.”
“It doesn’t need to be.” His eyes held both reassurance and heat: a delicate balance that stopped her from running but didn’t stop her from wanting. She swallowed.
“Turn around, Anna.”
She narrowed her eyes, not trusting him. “I promise not to lie you on the bed and take you here and now. Not yet, anyway.” It was all she could do to suppress the tiny intake of breath that his words provoked. She couldn’t move. Instead he moved around behind her.
“Hey, what are you up to?”
“Stay still.” He lifted her hair gently and dropped a heavy, cold strand of necklace around her throat. “I wanted to give you these by way of apology.”
“You, apologize?”
“I should have told you about the wedding before you learnt about it from my sister.”
“Yes you should. But there are so many things you should have done that I’m surprised you’ve chosen only this one to apologize for.”
“It is only this that I regret.” He finished clipping the necklace in place. “It was my mother’s, of course, and now yours.”
She fingered the chunky stones and lifted it to see a thick strand of emeralds and diamonds shoot light onto the walls and ceiling as she turned it in her hands.
“My God. It’s beautiful.” She looked into his eyes. “Are you sure? Do you really want me to have this?”