The Sheikh's Sinful Seduction(50)

                “She would have told me,” Zafir muttered as a refutation, wanting to believe it. Because the alternative, that Fern was pregnant with his child and hadn’t told him, was too much to face. The reasons behind choosing not to tell him were too ugly to absorb.

                “Another type of woman would have tried to trap you,” Ra’id said. “She would have told you and extorted a lifetime of support. Marriage even. Did this woman even have the sense to use birth control? Did you?”

                Zafir’s skin was dark enough to be Arab, but his green eyes were windows into his impure soul. All of him burned in the fire of culpability as he stood there, a man as close as a brother judging him for his reprehensible behavior. He had abandoned any sense of consequence. He was no better than the father who had condemned him to this half life of never belonging.

                He had no defense for his actions.

                “Ya gazma,” Ra’id spat. You shoe. Zafir felt lower than a shoe.

                “She would have told me,” Zafir insisted. Had she been too embarrassed? Or was it shame?

                “She quit because she feared running into you again?” Ra’id queried. “Given how sensitive and conscientious she seemed, I could believe that. But you better find out if that’s all it was before you proceed with what you’ve started here.” Ra’id jerked his chin toward the door and the place where Zafir’s proposed fiancée waited.

                Zafir’s heart sank like a stone in quicksand, slow and inevitable and irretrievable. He had ruined everything. He was a disgrace.

                He ran a hand down his burning face, trying to think.

                “What will you do if she’s pregnant?” There was the voice of his friend. Anger had abated and troubled understanding clouded Ra’id’s eyes. He knew what a terrible position Zafir could be in.

                Somehow this reaction was worse. Zafir would rather be reviled than consoled.

                Why had he allowed something so superficial to go so far? Was it in his blood to be this careless?

                He shut down the rage of helplessness. It was done. He had to find out if Fern was pregnant.

                “I don’t know,” he responded truthfully, voice as bleak as the rest of him.

                “I had time to think on the way here,” Ra’id said. “I have a suggestion.”





                                      CHAPTER SEVEN

                FERN HURRIED FROM the bus stop with the collar of her raincoat clutched tightly closed against her throat. With her other hand, she grasped the umbrella in a firm grip against the midday gusts trying to yank it away. The rushed walk made her breathless, partly due to the extra weight, she supposed. Possibly because she needed more iron.

                Pregnancy was a lot of work, she had discovered with a small pang of understanding for her mother’s beleaguered outlook. It was disconcerting to feel as though your body wasn’t yours anymore, but she didn’t resent the process, Mother. She didn’t blame this baby growing inside her for the anxiety she felt about their future.

                She blamed herself.

                Tramping quickly through the puddles in her boots, she felt icy splashes strike her knees through her tights, urging her even faster toward the sanctuary of Miss Ivy’s little flat. Not a whole house. Not even a proper two-bedroom. Fern was on the sofa bed at Miss Ivy’s insistence, saving the nest egg she had squirrelled away during her teaching contract with Amineh. She was even bringing in a few extra pounds with some adult tutoring. She hoped to take over a flat two blocks away when it came available in a few months.