let her go. But now, faced with the damning consequences of that decision—as well as wanting to somehow put things right—he needed to absorb the real possibility that he was a father. And if he was, he now had an heir.
His dearest wish had seemingly come to pass and he hadn’t even known it. But the cruelty of doubt, of not being able to receive the news with any real confidence, still tormented him. Could he really have been such an utter fool back then when he’d fired her? Was he really the father of her son?
But as he examined her more closely he couldn’t help but warm to the idea. ‘Was I honestly so irresponsible as not to use protection the first time we made love?’
Darcy flushed. ‘We were so crazy for each other that I don’t think either of us had time to think about anything much...let alone be sensible.’
Remembering, Zafir was suffused by heat similar to that of a hot air current that swept across the desert sands. No one could turn him on as she had.
But he quickly returned to her story. ‘Do you have any idea of what it means for someone in my position to have a son? It means that the ancient dynastic line of my forebears will continue. Nothing can bring greater satisfaction and purpose than that.’
His mind was racing with the implications of the news and how it was going to affect not just his life and his family’s, but the people of Zachariah too.
‘I’m glad that it’s important to you. So, am I right in thinking that you want to be involved in our son’s life?’
‘If he is my son, then of course I want to be involved in his life. Did you not hear what I just said?’
‘But...’ Again, Darcy turned pink. ‘What about your fiancée? Won’t she want to have a say in any decision you make about that? It’s surely going to come as a great shock to her that you have a son by someone else?’
Realising that he’d barely given his bride-to-be a thought since setting eyes on Darcy again, Zafir knew that he had to get out of marrying a woman he didn’t love and had no chance of ever loving. He actually welcomed the idea of extricating himself from the arrangement.
Farrida came from a powerful Arabian family that was as wealthy and privileged as his own, and they’d known each other for years, but in truth she was a cold fish. She might be one of the most beautiful women in the kingdom, with an impeccable pedigree, but she had grown up utterly spoilt. Consequently she thought only of herself.
Zafir had only agreed to the marriage because—as his mother regularly reminded him—at some time or other he would have to produce an heir. He needed to put his duty first, and his union with Farrida would be considered highly advantageous by both families.
‘Why don’t you let me deal with that,’ he replied tersely, ‘and focus on getting your ankle better?’
‘You must know I’m concerned about the fact you’re getting married? It will have implications for me—and my son too. It’s been a long, hard road with just my mum to help me with the childcare, so I can work and earn the money we need, and though I won’t deny it would be helpful to have your support I don’t want to risk losing Sami if you decide to sue for joint custody. Will you agree to his still living with me? When you talk about “dynastic lines”, it worries me. I’ve wanted to tell you about our child for so long...but, as I said, I could never get through to you. When I read that you were getting married I knew it was more important than ever that you had the news.’
‘And the boy... Sami...he is four now?’
‘Yes.’
Darcy saw his glance soften for a moment as he seemed to take the time to reacquaint himself with her features. He followed it up with a lingering examination of her wheaten hair. He had always been fascinated by it... But she brought an abrupt halt to the memory when she started to remember how he’d loved to run his fingers through it.
It was perhaps fortunate when he quickly reverted to his previous less than friendly stance.
‘I confess I am still having trouble believing all this, Darcy. I have plenty of reasons not to believe you...remember?’
His statement sent cold shivers scudding down her backbone. She saw that she still had to deal with his suspicion and mistrust.
‘I never lied to you. I know you don’t believe me, but it’s true. You weren’t the only one who was hurt by what happened. Not only did you think I was a liar and a cheat, but I also had to suffer the humiliation of being fired from my job as though...as though I was worthless. What happened wounded me more than you can possibly imagine. Let me go home, Zafir. Please,’ she implored. ‘I really do have to get back tonight. I give you my word that I’ll be there should you want to discuss any plans concerning our son.’
He seemed to stare into her eyes for a very long time before he spoke, but she found no reassurance in his gaze...anything but. In those endless few seconds Darcy felt as if she was standing in front of a pitiless magistrate who was just about to condemn her to a prison cell for life. Was there nothing she could say that would move him?
‘No matter how I feel personally about your predicament,’ he remarked, ‘in all conscience I cannot allow the hospital to discharge you tonight. You will have to stay here until tomorrow, when the doctor will re-examine you. After that, if I am satisfied they have done all that they can to aid your recovery, you can, of course, go home. But you can be sure I will be taking your details.’
‘Why? Because you want to see Sami or because you still intend to prosecute me for trespass?’
Now her eyes did fill with tears.
His returning glance was unperturbed, and cool as iced water. ‘To see my son, of course. I don’t intend prosecution now I’ve learned the reason for your trying to break into the house.’
Sniffing, Darcy blotted her tears with the back of her hand. She bit her lip at his reference to her trying to break in. ‘Good. But as to staying here for the night—I couldn’t afford to, even if I was at death’s door. Not all of us have money to burn like...’
‘Like me? Is that what you were going to say?’
Shrugging his shoulders, as though it didn’t disturb him one iota what she thought, Zafir started to walk away. But then he suddenly stopped dead and turned towards her.
Piercing her with eyes as black and mysterious as a moonless night, he breathed, ‘You will not have to pay this particular bill, Darcy, I will. But do not doubt you will have to recompense me...one way or another.’
As the door of the room swung closed behind him she dropped her head back onto the pillows and stared wildly up at the ceiling. Her physical discomfort had eased, thanks to the pain medication kicking in, but she didn’t know how she was going to relay the extraordinary events that had happened to her mother. And all because she’d finally taken matters into her own hands and recklessly sought Zafir out at his resplendent home...
* * *
Coming face to face with Darcy again did not help Zafir to sleep easily in his bed that night. The magic the woman weaved around him was like a drugging opiate that was impossible to resist, and when he was near her he felt like an addict on a recovery programme.
It was well over four years since he had seen her and at last he’d thought he’d got used to
