In receipt of that request, a little shudder of repulsion travelled through Saffy’s suddenly ferociously tense body. No, she could not do that; no, she could not risk sharing what had happened to her lest it destroy the new bonds they had created. She could feel him waiting for her to speak, literally willing her to speak in that dreadful expectant silence. As the silence continued and she failed to respond the strong, protective arms wrapped round her tensed, loosened and then carefully withdrew and he shifted his lean, powerful body away from hers, forging a separation between them that she could feel aching through every fibre she possessed.
Zahir wasn’t giving her a choice and he wasn’t about to conveniently drop the subject for the sake of peace either, she recognised wretchedly. He wanted to know; he was determined to know and he had a will of iron that would chip away at her obstinacy day after day. He wouldn’t let it go and the distance that would create between them would provide fertile ground in which suspicion might well fester. Would he then start to doubt that he was truly her baby’s father? Would he wonder if he had really been her only lover?
Stinging tears stung Saffy’s eyes and trickled down her cheeks in the darkness. He was always so honest; he never seemed afraid of anything, never seemed to worry about how other people saw him. Why couldn’t she be the same? Why couldn’t she just spill it all out and stop worrying about how it might damage his view of her? But Saffy couldn’t find an answer to the never-tell-anyone barrier that existed inside her mind. The therapist had had a lot of trouble getting her to talk and finally she had had hypnotherapy to overcome what she was too afraid and ashamed to remember, and only then, in possession of full knowledge, had she found it possible to move forward…
BREAKFAST FOR SAFFY and Zahir the following morning was an almost silent affair. Zahir, being Zahir of course, was scrupulously polite and yet in every glance, every intonation Saffy imagined she heard condemnation, suspicion, doubt that she could be trusted as he believed he should be able to trust his wife. Nausea stirred in her stomach as she contemplated the piece of toast clasped between her fingers and with a stifled apology she fled for the nearest bathroom to lose what little she had eaten.
Afterwards, weak and with hot, perspiring skin she lay down on the bed, relishing the restorative coolness of the air conditioning wafting over her.
Zahir strode through the bedroom door, stunning dark golden eyes intent on the picture she presented. ‘With all the flowers surrounding you here you look like the Sleeping Beauty…’
Saffy parted pink lips. ‘But this doesn’t feel like a fairy tale,’ she whispered apologetically because if there had ever been a romantic male, it was Zahir. And how on earth could a romantic male ever come to terms with something as ugly as her biggest secret?
‘I’ve phoned Hayat’s obstetrician.’
‘Why the heck did you do that?’
‘You’re sick. You need medical attention,’ Zahir informed her with a stubborn angle to his jaw line.
‘Being sick in early pregnancy is very common and not something to make a fuss about,’ Saffy countered steadily.
‘I shouldn’t have tired you out last night,’ Zahir responded tight-mouthed, his beautiful eyes shaded by his outrageously lush black lashes.
Saffy thrust her hands down onto the mattress to lift herself up into sitting position. ‘That’s got nothing to do with this—this is only my body struggling to adapt to being newly pregnant and it’s normal.’
‘I will stop worrying only when the doctor tells me to do so. I’m responsible for looking after you,’ Zahir asserted, unimpressed by her argument. ‘And while I realise that you’re not feeling like it, you must make an effort to eat some breakfast to keep your strength up.’
And the boss has spoken, Saffy tagged on in silence to that speech as Zahir stalked out of the door again. He did care that she wasn’t feeling well, she assured herself ruefully. It wasn’t love but it was concern, but for how long would she even retain that hold on him if she continued to keep her secrets? Naturally he was curious, naturally sooner or later he would need to know the truth about her past. For the first time she accepted that telling Zahir the truth was unavoidable and a bridge she would eventually have to cross.
Zahir’s sister, Hayat, accompanied the consultant, who had tended her through her pregnancies. A well-built older man with a studious manner, he was calm and practical and exactly what Saffy needed to reinforce her belief that a little nausea was not serious cause for concern.
‘The baby’s father is very worried about your health,’ the doctor declared. ‘It is a challenge of civility to tell a king he must not worry unduly.’
Hayat was waiting outside to ask Saffy to join her for tea. Dressed in a light summer dress in shades of blue, Saffy accompanied her sister-in-law to the rear of the palace complex where she and her husband and children lived. Her husband, Rahim, was a senior doctor at the city hospital and their three little girls occupied much of Hayat and Saffy’s conversation until a maid arrived to take the children out to the gardens to play.
Tea with tiny sweet cakes was served on a shaded balcony.
‘My brother needs to learn to say no,’ Hayat told Saffy firmly. ‘The same day he brings you home a bride he was immediately dragged into some government squabble about security concerns and forced to abandon you. You will quickly discover that Zahir doesn’t know how to say no to the demands made on his time.’
Saffy simply smiled, warmed by the frank tongue that Hayat appeared to share with her brother. ‘Zahir was always very conscientious. Thank you for being so welcoming, Hayat. I appreciate it.’
‘I know how much you and Zahir went through when you were married five years ago and our people now have a very good idea as well,’ Hayat commented, her brown eyes level and serious. ‘Zahir was wise when he chose to issue a public statement, admitting that he was remarrying the woman whom his father once forced him to divorce.’
Saffy stiffened in surprise at that revelation. ‘I had no idea there had been any statement made about our marriage!’ she exclaimed.
‘Or that now my brother, the king, is forced to tell lies in public to protect you?’ another louder voice interposed from the doorway behind them and both women’s heads whipped around in astonishment at the interruption.
‘Akram!’ Hayat snapped in a warning tone at her youngest brother before turning back to Saffy with her face flushed and her expression uneasy to say, ‘Please excuse me for a moment.’
But Zahir’s volatile kid brother had worked up too much of a head of steam to be denied the confrontation with his brother’s wife that his temper clearly craved. He concentrated his attention on Saffy, who was already starting to rise from her chair in dismay. ‘You walked out on my brother—you deserted him after all he had endured to keep you as a wife against our father’s wishes!’ he accused with loathing. ‘Zahir was imprisoned, tortured and beaten for your benefit and then you threw your marriage away by divorcing him when he needed your loyalty most!’
Her expression distraught, Hayat was pleading with her angry brother to keep quiet while simultaneously yanking on his arm in an unsuccessful effort to physically drag him away.
Saffy
