The Sheikh's Sinful Seduction(69)
His grandfather leaned forward to admit to Fern, “It’s true. I did.” Ice rattled in his glass as he lifted it with a palsied hand and tilted it at Zafir’s mother. “All three of my girls were highly sexed. Zafir’s father wasn’t her first.”
“No, your solicitor was,” Zafir’s mother declared with a very fake, very tart smile.
“We’ll have a paternity test when the baby is born if it will set your mind at ease, but I’m quite confident it’s mine,” Zafir said. With false geniality aimed at his mother, he added, “You’ll have another grandchild. I thought you’d be delighted.”
His grandfather snorted. “Heard that one before, too. I hope you’re proud of yourself,” he said to his daughter, raising her ire even further.
“How is this my fault?” she demanded, elegant and composed, yet indignant. “I didn’t get her pregnant.”
“No, but you were after Amineh about schooling the girls in English.”
“Here. I wanted her to put them in school here. Not hire someone—” She glared at Fern.
Fern sat very still, body language braced and watchful, hands a tight knot in her lap.
Zafir was sorry to put her through this, especially when his mother was lobbing some heavy artillery and Fern was already sensitive to being blamed, but he wouldn’t have the strong personality he did possess if he hadn’t grown up holding his own against the ones who’d raised him.
“She did it to please you,” his grandfather pointed out before Zafir could interject, indicating Fern with his half-empty glass. “This girl never would have been under his nose if you hadn’t interfered.”
“That’s funny,” Zafir said with a snort.
“It is not,” she retorted frostily. “And even if I do bear some responsibility for her hiring someone, you ought to know better than to let an opportunist—”
“Talk to Ra’id before you decide who took advantage of whom, Mother,” Zafir interrupted, leaning a hand on the back of Fern’s chair. “Fern’s virtue was his responsibility while she was under his roof and he failed to preserve it. He’s barely speaking to me right now.”
Fern looked up at Zafir, her brows tugged into an anxious crinkle. “Really? He’s not upset with me for being a terrible example for his daughters?”
“Their grandmother is a terrible example for them,” he stated, enjoying it. “But no, partly he’s taking advantage of the chance to get back at me for all the years I was so protective of Amineh, but he knew exactly how worldly you were. He is genuinely offended with me and remorseful toward you. Expect a sincere apology when you see him next.”
“That’s not necessary!” she insisted, chin crinkling as she tried to hold a wobbly smile. “I’m just glad they’re not cross with me. I’d love to see Amineh and the girls again.”
“She’s anxious to see you, too,” he assured her, moving his hand so his knuckles felt the tickle of her curls as he brushed them back from her shoulder. “I should have explained when I said that we come here a few times a year, Amineh and I try to overlap our visits. If she doesn’t come to us in Q’Amara first, we’ll—”
“Zafir,” his mother said sharply. “You are not actually marrying her. What happened to the marriage you were arranging with that troublemaker’s daughter?”