Page 80 of Kismet

As the heat of their lovemaking died into a soothing warmth, Shaheen pulled her into his side. It would always be like this with her. This insatiable need to keep her close at his side. There would never be a time when he wouldn’t feel this overwhelming love for her. She lightly trailed her fingertips over his jaw as she stared up at him.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I’m not letting you out of my sight until you’re legally bound to me. You know that don’t you,” he said in that arrogantly masterful way he had.

She didn’t answer him. Instead, she nestled deeper into him, her face pressed against his hard chest. He wanted to marry her. Instinctively she knew he would accept nothing less than marriage. She was more than willing to give up her independence to be with him, even though she knew he would never take her free will from her.

He’d shown how much he loved her by offering her the ability to control how they made love. He would do the same in other aspects of their lives. But would he love the child? His relationship with his father had been such that he might very well not want children. Then there were the rumors and innuendos that would no doubt arise once word spread that she was with child. A strong hand caught her chin and forced her to look at him.

“I realize it was a less than romantic proposal of marriage, but somehow I expected a response from you.” Tension had drawn his mouth taut as his gaze swept over her face.

“Are you certain that’s what you want?” She quickly slipped away from him and off the bed.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he growled as he tried to prevent her from escaping him.

Not looking at him, she crossed the room and retrieved a peignoir from her wardrobe. As she shrugged into the lightweight garment, she glanced over her shoulder at him. “It means nothing. I’m simply thinking about your new responsibilities.”

“Why do I think you’re trying to avoid answering my question,” he snapped as he got out of bed to face her.

“I’m not trying to avoid anything. I’m simply pointing out that you have new responsibilities and with them come certain . . . expectations.” A frown creased her forehead as he stepped toward her.

“Expectations?” He frowned. “If you’re referring to what people will think when I make you the Countess of Pembroke, I don’t give a damn what they think.”

“I confess I have no inclination to be the focal point of another scandal, but there will be one.”

There was a catch in her voice that made his heart ache for her. She was no doubt remembering the last scandal she’d been embroiled in. Charles had told him everything Allegra had suffered then, but this time he’d be there to shield her from the gossip. They didn’t even have to remain in England.

“Then we’ll return to Morocco. I’ll arrange for an estate manager to see to my properties, and I’ll offer Charles a nice stipend to keep them honest.”

“An Earl’s responsibilities lie in England, not elsewhere,” she said quietly. “You know that as well as I do.”

“Then we live here,” he said with a growing frustration. “Damn it to hell, Allegra. I want you for my wife. I don’t care where we live, because home is wherever you are.”

“It’s not that simple,” she protested with a sharp shake of her head.

“It is that simple. Once we’re married, we’ll go back to Morocco until the gossips find new fodder for the grist mill,” he said with a confidence he didn’t really feel. The truth was, her hesitation was scaring the hell out of him. “In fact, we’ll spend half of every year in England and the other half with the Amazigh for the rest of our lives.”

He took several steps forward, anxious to hold her and convince her of his sincerity. When she shied away from his approach, he immediately retreated, despite the urge to pull her into his arms. She was still so vulnerable, and even though she’d given control to him moments ago, she would never willingly give up all control. Warm sunshine framed her silhouette as she stood staring out the window, and his gaze hungrily glided over her body. God, how he’d missed her. Just being close to her was enough to lighten the darkness he’d existed in for the past three months.

She’d gained a little of the weight she’d lost in the desert. It gave her a softer, rounder look, and her face glowed. His gaze drifted downward, and he frowned in puzzlement. He knew every inch of her by memory, and yet he didn’t recall her breasts being quite so round. And had her lush hips suddenly become fuller? He went rigid with shock as his gaze jerked back up to her face. She was with child.

The realization clutched at his insides with such a vicious twist he wanted to double over from the pain. Christ Jesus, the bastard had gotten her pregnant. How was he going to accept Nassar’s bastard living in his home? He swallowed the knot constricting his throat. God, not only did he have to live with the fact that he’d surrendered her to Nassar’s touch, but that the man had seeded her as well.

No wonder she was putting him off about marriage. Shoving a hand through his hair, he cupped the nape of his neck as he stared down at the round rug that covered the wood floor. The muscles in his stomach contracted with a brutal twist once more. What the hell was he going to do? He couldn’t give her up. He didn’t have the strength to do that. But did he have the courage to raise a child that wasn’t his. He didn’t have a choice. He loved her. He loved her enough to accept a child that wasn’t even his. For her sake, he’d be the best father possible to the child. And he’d work hard to do the one thing his father had never been capable of doing. He’d find a way to love a child that had no control over the circumstances of their birth. This time she didn’t shy away from him as he drew close and cupped her face in his hands.

“I love you,” he said softly. “I want you for my wife.”

Her fingers curled around his as a look of fear filled her eyes. “I need to tell you . . . I just don’t know how . . .”

“There’s no need, mon amour. I love you, and the child need never know I’m not the father.” She stiffened as he wrapped her in his arms and pulled her close. “I’ll love the babe as if it were my own.”

His words flowed over her with a warmth she’d never experienced in her entire life. The magnanimity of his gesture left her speechless. If she had even thought to doubt his love before, she would not be able to do so now. To offer complete acceptance to a child he believed was created in an act of violence was a testament to the depth of his love for her. It was the most selfless demonstration of love he could have offered, and as she stared up at him in dazed confusion she tried to comprehend how destiny had given her such a man to love and be loved by. In all her efforts to shape her own destiny, she had never even dared to fashion the image of someone so wonderful as a part of her life. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she shuddered in his arms, and a low growl rolled out of him as he held her tight against him.

“It’s all right, mon coeur,” he murmured. “I promise you, it will be all right.”

“No, you don’t understand,” she choked out as a shaky smile curved her lips. “The child is yours, my love. I’m carrying your child. Nassar didn’t touch me in that way.”

Her tears soaked his skin as she pressed her face into him, clinging to him as though he were a lifeline. For the longest moment, he wasn’t certain he’d heard her correctly. As she shuddered against him, her words kept echoing over and over again in his head. The child was his, not Nassar’s. She was carrying his child. The emotions crashing through him did so with blinding speed. This had to be what joy felt like. This incredible rush of happiness mixed with excitement. Picking her up in his arms, he carried her to the bed and sank down into the mattress to cradle her in his lap. His fingers brushed away her tears before he pressed his mouth to her forehead.