it took to give you up, knowing, having to accept that it was the only thing I could do…’
As he admitted that stinging tears were rolling down Saffy’s face. She had never dreamt that she could feel such pain on someone else’s behalf and yet when Zahir talked of how much it had hurt to divorce her, it was as if a giant black hole of unhappiness opened up inside her and cracked her heart right down the middle. Her fingers delved into his luxuriant black hair, delving, smoothing. ‘I loved you too…I loved you so much. I don’t think I even understood how much I needed you in my life until we were forced apart,’ she confided jaggedly.
‘I tried to contact you after my father died and the fighting was finished,’ Zahir told her grimly as he lifted his handsome dark head and leapt back upright to pace restively. ‘I spoke to your sister, Kat.’
Saffy was stunned. ‘She didn’t tell me.’
Zahir grimaced. ‘Kat pleaded with me to leave you alone. She said you had just got your life back together, that you were working, making friends and that the last thing you needed was to see me again,’ Zahir recalled, tight-mouthed at the recollection.
Saffy felt as if someone had walked over her grave. How could the sister she loved have got her so wrong? The divorce had broken her heart but she had still loved Zahir and would have moved heaven and earth to see him again. ‘She shouldn’t have interfered.’
‘On that score we’ll have to disagree.’ Zahir surprised her with that response. ‘Sadly, even though I didn’t like what Kat had to say, she was right.’
‘No, she was wrong,’ Saffy contradicted.
‘You were far too young to deal with what I was dealing with then on top of the other problems we had and Maraban had. You needed the time to live the normal life you should have enjoyed before we married,’ Zahir contended. ‘I can see that now but I couldn’t see it at the time. I simply wanted you back the minute it would have been safe to bring you back…’
Tears trickled down Saffy’s cheeks. ‘I would’ve come back to you,’ she whispered shakily.
‘You would’ve walked away from those magazine covers and your face everywhere?’ Zahir prompted dubiously.
‘Yes, it was never that important to me. It was the means to make a living and not be a burden on my sister.’
Zahir bent down and grasped her hands to raise her. ‘But we work better now because we’re older and wiser.’
A shadow crossed her lovely face. ‘And, of course, you’re much more experienced.’
He paled, his strong bone structure tightening. ‘After our mutual failure, I was afraid I had become…impotent. I had lost all confidence,’ he confided in a grudging undertone, tension and shame etched in every line of his strong face. ‘I knew I had to get past my obsession with you because you were no longer mine. My father sent me abroad before the civil war broke out. Ironically he was trying to reward me for divorcing you…’
Saffy lifted her fingers and gently smoothed the stubborn angle of his jaw. ‘It’s all right. I can’t say I don’t mind because that would be a lie, but I understand why it happened.’
His beautiful dark eyes narrowed and centred intently on her solemn face. ‘Then isn’t it time you explained how that miracle happened for you? You insist there hasn’t been another man but—’
‘That was the truth.’ Her wandering fingers strayed to his wide sensual lower lip to silence him. ‘I wanted to be normal in the bedroom and I went to see a specialist to find out what was wrong with me. I was told that I suffered from a condition called vaginismus, which is an involuntary tightening of the pelvic muscles, often triggered by some trauma in the past. My inability to relax, the panic attacks when you tried to touch me were all part of it,’ she explained, doggedly pushing herself on to spill what had lain behind her deepest vulnerability. ‘I went for therapy but it wasn’t until I had hypnotherapy that I discovered what had triggered my phobia about that part of my body…’
Zahir held her back from him, his shrewd gaze welded to her troubled face and the sheen of perspiration already dampening her upper lip. ‘Tell me—there should be nothing you can’t tell me.’
‘I was abused by one of my mother’s boyfriends when I was a child,’ Saffy framed shakily, tears welling up in her eyes because she could not bring herself to look and see how he was reacting to that unsavoury news. ‘I suppose I was lucky he didn’t rape me, but then he was never able to get me alone for very long. He threatened me. He said that if I told Mum, she wouldn’t believe me, and he said Emmie and Topsy would have to take my place.’
Zahir swore in his own language and gripped her shoulders. ‘Please tell me that you went to your mother for help.’
A taut expression set Saffy’s face. ‘I did but my abuser was right—Mum refused to believe me and punished me for even opening the subject. My abuser was a well-off professional man with a name for being a womaniser and there was no way my mother was going to give him up or suspect him on only the strength of my word.’
Zahir pushed up her chin. ‘What age were you?’
‘Seven.’ Saffy gazed up into his furious eyes and shivered. ‘I couldn’t stop him, Zahir, but I knew it was wrong.’
Zahir almost crushed her in his arms. ‘Is that the impression I’m giving you? That it was somehow your fault that some filthy pervert abused your trust? That’s not how I feel. I’m furious the bastard got away with it, furious your mother wouldn’t listen to you, furious I wasn’t there to prevent it happening in the first place!’ he spelt out in a savage undertone.
‘You’re angry.’
‘But not with you, with the people who have hurt you and let you down, even though I’m one of their number,’ he muttered, his breathing fracturing as he scooped her up and brought her carefully down on the bed with him, holding her close to every line of his long, lean physique. ‘Facing the fact that you’d been abused must have been very difficult for you.’
‘Apparently it’s quite common for children to suppress memories of that kind of assault,’ Saffy whispered unevenly, reassured by the solid thump of his heart against her breast and the reality that he was hugging her without demonstrating any symptoms of revulsion towards her. ‘I felt horrible but, on one level, it was a relief to find out what had made me the way I was. I knew I’d never be able to have another relationship until I could overcome my problems.’
‘I wish I’d known. What treatment did you have?’
‘I had loads of supportive counselling and then a physical intervention,’ Saffy explained hesitantly. ‘I had muscle relaxants injected to prevent the contractions and a dilator was inserted while I was still unconscious. For a long time I slept with it inserted overnight…’ As Zahir looked down at her, her face was burning. ‘I had to learn to accept my own body and to touch myself. I’d always avoided that without ever wondering why. I assumed I was just very fastidious, I didn’t know I suffered from an actual phobia until we got married and it all went wrong. But after I had completed the treatment I did hope to find a lover once I’d worked through all the recovery steps.’
‘And why didn’t you do that?’ Zahir demanded, stunning dark golden eyes pinned to her. ‘I shouldn’t have thought that would have been a challenge.’
‘You’d
