The Sheikh's Sinful Seduction(47)
Her first order of business after checking in to her London hotel half a day later was a pregnancy test. Her life changed completely in the one minute it took to watch the blue positive sign appear. She had known, but now she knew.
Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, she saw her dream job dissolve into a blur, just like her pale reflection in the mirror across from her. She couldn’t face Amineh after this. Couldn’t face Zafir after being so stupid as to let it happen. She couldn’t put him in a position of choosing between his country and her. Not when she knew something of the anguish he and his sister had grown up in, feeling torn between two worlds. She couldn’t do that to her child.
She was having a baby!
Unable to process that reality, she went through the motions of what had to be done. She wrote her resignation letter with hands that shook so badly she could barely type. Then she made arrangements for the agency to forward it on her behalf. Her apologies were profuse, her regret profound, but she was unable to return. The circumstances here at home made it impossible, she said, and wished the girls well in their studies.
After cutting those final ties, the day after her arrival in London, she put herself on a train to the north and took a cab from the station to Miss Ivy’s flat.
“Fern!” her friend gasped when she opened the door. “I wasn’t expecting you!”
Fern dropped her cases. “I am. Expecting.” Now came the tears as the magnitude of it all finally hit her. “Oh, Miss Ivy! What am I going to do?”
Six months later
Zafir was preparing for a very private, very delicate meeting. Abu Gadiel had agreed to let Zafir introduce himself to his daughter. They, with her mother and two brothers, were arriving at any minute. The air in his expansive office was already thick with tension and he was the only one in it.
Zafir silently went over his reasons for seeking a union with her, how it would strengthen confidence in his ruling of the country while giving her father a voice near his ear. It would benefit the country they all cared about. He already knew her only reservation: whether she would be allowed to continue her ambitions to become a doctor.
He would encourage her, of course. Offer a long engagement, wait until she’d finished her degree even. It would press him into celibacy, but he would need time to work up the desire to bed her anyway. Sexual hunger tortured him every hour of every day, but he only thought of one woman.
This obsession had to stop. He would not become his father, keeping a mistress in England. That way led to the madness of falling in love, having a family as though they were a proper couple with a future. Q’Amara needed stability. That came from a man with a clear mind, not one tortured by passionate emotions like love.
So he would ignore the fact that Fern had gone back to England, even though the knowledge had sent a rush of excitement roaring through him. The imperative to go and stamp and ensconce had been pacing like an angry lion inside him since Tariq had come home with the news of her departure from Ra’id’s palace. A widowed Mrs. Heath was in residence as Fern’s replacement. She was nice enough, but didn’t make jokes or let them wander off topic. Photos had shown a woman of later years, white hair and a plump body.
“Why did she leave?” Zafir had questioned Tariq, experiencing a pierce that should have been fear, but was too anticipatory.
“Her friend was sick. Auntie said it sounded like what my mother had.”
Zafir’s mind had sheared off the thought that had barely formed, that Fern had had another reason for leaving, and he’d focused on reminding Tariq that rules were relaxed at the oasis. An understatement. Miss Davenport might also have been strict if she’d been in her proper classroom, he’d said, so Tariq shouldn’t be too hard on the new Mrs. Heath.