Wanted: A Baby by the Sheikh(49)
“Daidan!” Taina’s voice drifted down through the trees. He hesitated, the axe high over his head, and then let it swing down.
“Daidan,” the voice repeated, closer now. He glanced up to see her running down the dry track between the trees.
“Daidan!” she shouted, nearer now. He could hardly bear to see her. The pain dug in, deep inside.
He raised the axe once more before slamming the blade into another tree stump. He turned around, chest heaving, hands on hips. Even seeing her there, her delicate beauty a sharp contrast to the chaos of cut logs and his sweaty, grimy body, emphasized her vulnerability, underscored how much he’d failed her.
He tried to smile at her reassuringly but reckoned he’d failed because she looked anything but reassured. He might be suffering but it was Taina who’d suffered most. “I thought you’d still be sleeping,” he said, in as calm a tone as he could manage.
“No, I’ve been looking for you.”
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded. “Fine. More than fine about the baby.” She rubbed her stomach gently. “I guess it was just the shock, the memory of my last scan… it just got to me. But I want to know how you are.”
“Fine,” he muttered between gritted teeth before he turned away and pulled the axe blade from the log. He placed another log on the chopping block. But before his grip could tighten on the axe, Taina came and rested her hand on his arm.
“Daidan, I’m so sorry.”
He focused on his hands, flexing around the axe handle. “Who was he, Taina? Did you know him?”
Taina twisted her lips and turned away. She did know him. He could see it.
“Right. Who was he?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Won’t. Not now. Not yet.”
“Then when?”
“When you’re less angry.”
He grunted. She was right. He’d never been so angry, or felt so helpless in his whole life. If he knew who had hurt her he’d ignore the launch, ignore everything until he could pummel the man who’d caused her such pain. His much-vaunted control had disappeared in an instant with her words. He took a deep breath and then looked up at her. “Why don’t you go back to the house? You could get hurt here.” It was taking all his will power to remain calm.
“No. Come with me, now.”
“What’s the point when you won’t tell me what I need to know?”
“I want you to talk to me. Tell me how you feel, what you’re thinking. We have to be able to talk to each other about this.”
“I thought you claimed you knew how I felt—angry.”
“That much I can guess. You’re angry with me for keeping secrets from you.”
He grunted. “Correct. But that’s not all.”
“And for running away on our wedding day.”
“No, I’m not angry with you for that. You ran because your father and I had driven you away. Try again.” He could feel his control slipping.
“Well, if not for that, you’re angry that I didn’t return.”
“No! Wrong again. Hurt maybe, but not angry. Not at you.” His voice was growing louder but he seemed unable to stop it.
She shook her head, bewildered. “Hurt that I didn’t tell you what happened?”
He took the hand that held his and gripped it in his before dropping it by her side. “Just leave it, Taina. You’ve done nothing wrong apart from being so damned secretive. But even that I can sort of understand. You were afraid how I’d react, afraid I’d take the law into my own hands.”
“Wouldn’t you?”
He began picking up logs and tossing them toward the pile. Taina stepped out the way. “Probably,” he answered at last. He continued in silence... one, two, three logs. Then walked and picked up some more without looking around. Five minutes must have passed before he stopped, sighed, dropped his head and wondered what the hell he had to do to make Taina leave.
“I’m not going until you talk to me,” the quiet but firm voice said.
He walked over to where he’d tossed his shirt and pulled it on, without looking at her. He took another deep breath and then turned to her. “So... what do you want me to say?”
“So if you’re not angry with me, who are you angry with?”
He tugged his shirt together and began buttoning it up. “Me, of course! I’m furious with me. I failed you.”
Taina ran to him, slipped her arms under his shirt and pressed her cheek against his bare chest. “You didn’t fail me, you stupid man. You didn’t. How could you fail me when you weren’t there? It was all my stupid fault. I ran away because I felt betrayed by you and Papa. I should have stayed and forced you to understand. Instead I went from one resort, one city to another, a child trying to mix in an adult world. I was unprepared… naïve. I didn’t read the signs, wasn’t aware of the undercurrents. I’d been too protected all my life to understand what was going to happen.”