‘I don’t believe in it.’ Jacqui felt him tense beneath her touch. ‘At best it’s a fool’s dream, something the weak hang onto.’
Jacqui frowned, disturbed more than she could say by his dismissive attitude. ‘Your grandmother doesn’t strike me as weak or foolish yet she believes in love.’
‘My grandparents lived in a different time.’ He lifted his shoulders. ‘Maybe love was possible then.’ He shot her a dark stare. ‘Why? Do you believe romantic love can solve all your woes?’ His look was sharp, almost accusing. She felt it cut, despite the comfort of his hand on hers.
‘I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it.’ She’d never dreamed of Mr Right sweeping her off her feet. She’d never allowed herself to dream, except about achieving her next professional goal.
Suddenly it struck Jacqui how wonderful it would be to have more than her career to look back on when she was old. How wonderful to share your life with one special person.
‘What is it?’ He leaned close, as if he could read the lightning-bolt flash that momentarily blinded her.
What would it be like to share her life with Asim? The trembling shock of the idea couldn’t douse effervescent delight. A lifetime spent getting to know Asim, discovering his secrets as he uncovered hers. A lifetime feeling more special, more alive, than she’d ever been before. The idea was so heady she felt dizzy.
‘Jacqueline?’
She met his probing gaze and found herself wondering if his children would have the same dark eyes, like black velvet.
She tried to tug her hand free. Asim simply tightened his grip, leaning towards her. Panic filled her and she went on the attack.
‘Just because your parents weren’t in love doesn’t mean it’s not possible.’
‘Oh, but they were. In love.’ His lips twisted in a parody of a smile. ‘At least that’s what they called it. I thought it was a battle for supremacy, one playing off the other. They covered it all—sickly sweet romantic gestures and times when no one existed but the pair of them, not even their children. But more often it was jealousy, sulks, rages and ultimatums, then break-ups and reconciliations. They tried to use Samira and me in their one-upmanship but they lost interest in us as soon as they reconciled.’
‘It sounds awful.’ Surely that sort of volatile, chaotic childhood would leave its scars? He’d hinted it had affected Samira. How had it affected him? Jacqui wondered if this explained why Asim liked being in control and having his commands obeyed. He thrived on order and logic.
‘And as a result you don’t believe in love?’ She needed, desperately, to understand him.
‘Perhaps there are some lucky couples who’ve found it, but I suspect most of them put a good face on it. The best you can hope for is an amicable marriage with someone you respect.’
‘That sounds very businesslike.’ Perhaps at last she’d discovered a cultural chasm between them. Until now there’d been little, apart from Asim’s tendency to expect instant obedience to his wishes, to reinforce the different worlds they came from. As she refused to be obsequious, and they usually negotiated an agreed position when she wanted something for her research, she’d pushed that to the back of her mind.
‘Why not? Marriage is the most important venture in a person’s life. It deserves careful consideration rather than some impetuous decision influenced by a hormonal rush.’
Jacqui smiled wistfully. ‘I can’t imagine you doing that.’
‘I should hope not!’
She looked into his severely sculpted features and tried to imagine him doing anything as impulsive as falling in love. He was so contained.
Yet Asim could act on impulse. Like when he audaciously made love to her at unexpected times and places. Sometimes he shocked her, novice that she was to this game of passion. He also made occasional impulsive decisions, though he’d label them instinctive, when he pursued an unexpected tack in his diplomatic work. Those flashes of intuition added to his reputation for brilliance.
‘How about you, Jacqueline?’ His fingers stroked the back of her hand. ‘Have you ever fancied yourself in love?’
‘Never.’
‘Really?’
He looked so intent she had to ask. ‘Why so surprised?’
His gaze shuttered and he looked away. ‘I thought females were susceptible to romantic fantasy.’
‘Not this one. I suppose I spent too much time with boys to see them as anything to fantasise about.’
‘Lots of brothers?’
‘In a way.’ She paused, hesitating. Asim knew her weaknesses, her dreams and fears. What would happen if she shared her past too? She was used to protecting her privacy. Would opening up make her even more vulnerable to him?
He sat, waiting as if he had all the time in the world. The comfort of his presence, his touch, in this beautiful, peaceful garden worked its magic and she felt her shoulders relax and drop.
‘Half-brothers and step-brothers.’
‘Your parents were busy.’
‘You could say that.’ She huffed out a breath of laughter. ‘They split when I was ten. But there were no fights or shouting. Just...coolness. One day we were together and the next they were moving on to their new families.’
His fingers tightened. ‘They already had new families?’
Jacqui nodded. ‘My father was seeing a woman who already had three boys. The eldest was just a year younger than me. My mother moved away and by the time she remarried she was pregnant with the first of two sons.’
‘So you stayed with your father?’
Even after all this time Jacqui felt that familiar stab of hurt at being unwanted. Not once in her life had she felt truly loved.
Was that why Asim’s attention made her so happy?
Her mouth flattened. ‘No. They decided it was best to share responsibility so I went back and forth between the households.’
Asim shifted, closing the distance between them. ‘It doesn’t sound like you were happy.’
She lifted her shoulders. ‘The boys weren’t bad, though sometimes they really enjoyed getting their babysitter into trouble.’
‘You had a babysitter as well as your parents?’
‘No. I was the babysitter. My mother...’ Stupid to let it get to her after all this time. ‘My mother was more interested in her new family. I was a bit of an embarrassment to her and my stepmother made it clear I was only accepted in her house if I made myself useful.’
‘And your father?’ Asim’s voice was terse.
She shook her head at the sight of the militant spark in his eyes. ‘My parents aren’t bad people.
