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Molly gritted her teeth at a truth she was not in the mood to hear at that moment. Unhappily she wasn’t accustomed to having to consider risks in the pregnancy stakes because he was her first lover. Azrael was affronted, as if even the chance to have his child was a wonderful opportunity that no normal woman would wish to evade. Offence was stamped into the grim lines of his lean dark face and the aggressive angle of his stubbled jawline.
Azrael was very much taken aback by Molly’s attitude to the risk they had run together. Only as he registered that he had forgotten to use a condom had it occurred to him that he would very much like to have a child with Molly. After all, the only surviving member of his family was his kid brother and his heart warmed at the prospect of having a proper family in the future with children he could call his own.
Ironically he had imagined how warm and loving Molly would be with a child. His own mother had been too distant and reserved to act like the loving, caring mother he had longed to have as a little boy. His instantaneous, idealistic vision of building a happy family with Molly had shattered beneath a withering rejection, which he saw as unfeeling. After all, if she did conceive would she then reject his child or think less of that child because she had not planned its birth? Or were her reservations more basic? Was it simply his child she did not want?
‘In future I will be very careful to utilise protection,’ he declared coolly. ‘I will leave it to you to decide whether we will ever reach this magical day where we will sit down and discuss what comes naturally to half the world!’
Molly compressed her lips in silence. Djalia was not the most forward-thinking place. Having a wife was clearly fundamentally linked in Azrael’s brain with having a family and he had taken it for granted that she would feel the same way. That she did not immediately wish to embrace motherhood was clearly unwelcome news to him.
‘And now I must leave until we meet at the wedding tomorrow,’ Azrael informed her and even his Mr Grumpy expression couldn’t hide his relief at the prospect of escaping her unnatural attitude to conception. ‘Your attendants will be arriving soon to prepare you as a bride.’
I’m falling in love with him, Molly registered in sudden dismay because she could see right through him just then and she could see that Azrael was both offended and deeply hurt. Her reluctance to conceive was being viewed as a rejection. It bothered her so much to see that in him that she was horribly tempted to put her arms round him to offer comfort. Unfortunately, that would be the wrong thing to do because Azrael had to learn that while it was apparently fine for him to make unilateral decisions for Djalia he could not expect the same freedom and authority within his marriage. I want to keep you. Spontaneous laughter bubbled up in her throat and she had to struggle to hold it back because he would definitely misinterpret that reaction.
She was tempted to tell him that she was not totally averse to the idea of becoming a mother but that would lead her down conversational roads she was not yet ready to travel with him. If she did choose to have a child, however, she wanted to plan the event, not find herself railroaded into it by an accidental conception. Furthermore, before she could even consider confidently embracing motherhood she needed to know that their marriage had a genuine future.
Unhappily, when she had agreed to stay married to Azrael on the basis that he would cover her grandfather’s bills at the care home, they hadn’t talked about so many things that they should have talked about. Although Molly always liked to know where she stood, she had never had that clarity with Azrael. They hadn’t discussed sex, money, contraception, divorce or indeed any of the many complications waiting, it seemed, to trip them up and set them at odds. And now, evidently such discussions had strayed into such personal private territory that a frank exchange of views was liable to hurt or offend. What had happened to the man who had confided that he felt trapped and resentful once he’d learned that his false announcement that they were married had bound them in marriage by local law?
I want to keep you. What was she supposed to say to that? What did she want to say to that? Molly thought it was far too soon to be making life-changing decisions and was more distrustful of the growing strength of her attachment to Azrael than ever. He was much more volatile than he seemed behind that cool, controlled façade of his, she acknowledged. Did he have feelings for her? Or did it all come down to amazing sex for him? Was he that basic? Or was she too suspicious and cynical?
CHAPTER NINE
‘ZAHRA!’ THE NEXT DAY, as afternoon faded into evening, Molly moved forward with a delighted smile to greet a surprisingly familiar face. The young Djalian woman had been her first pupil at the Djalian Embassy in London. The daughter of a senior diplomat, Zahra had so enjoyed Molly’s lessons that before leaving London again she had recommended that Molly teach English to Tahir.
‘Your husband believed that you would find my company useful,’ the slender brunette told her shyly. ‘I can act as an interpreter and also explain the bridal rituals.’
Molly’s green eyes lit up with interest. ‘I’m getting rituals?’
‘The first royal bride to marry the King of Djalia this century? You’re getting the full Djalian bridal treatment!’ Zahra assured her with amusement. ‘We’re going out into the desert for it too. It would be a lot easier to do it all here but tradition means everything to our tribes.’
‘You’ll keep me right...thank goodness,’ Molly whispered, hugely grateful for the support because without an interpreter she wouldn’t be able to understand what was happening or why.
‘It is a great honour for me and my family that I have been entrusted with such a role. My mother is very pleased and proud,’ the Djalian brunette shared with a rueful laugh. ‘Of course, my parents are probably hoping that you’ll thrust me in the path of some eligible male but I have to tell you now...most of them are far too old for me. Too many of our young men died fighting Hashem and his troops.’
‘That’s sad,’ Molly recognised.
‘But the most important young man survived. Our King is revered for his bravery and his wisdom.’
‘He is pretty special,’ Molly muttered helplessly, reddening at Zahra’s knowing smile as she made that statement.
‘Yes. The King is the one person in Djalia who can unite all the different factions. He even keeps Prince Firuz on his side,’ Zahra pointed out with a grimace. ‘He’s an old horror but we don’t want to be at odds with our nearest neighbour and he did keep our current King safe from Hashem while he was still a boy.’
‘Yes,’ Molly conceded while thinking that Azrael had also paid a very high price for that prot
ection with the punishments he had endured. A step ahead of her companion, she climbed into one of the air-conditioned rough-terrain vehicles parked in readiness outside the palace while the staff and luggage accompanying her piled into the two cars behind.
‘But Prince Firuz won’t even attend your wedding because Christian rites are being included. He is very rigid in his views,’ Zahra admitted and then she winced. ‘I’m being indiscreet. I should not be gossiping. My father would be ashamed of me—’
‘Then Azrael would be equally ashamed of me,’ Molly countered wryly. ‘I need to know what’s going on and I don’t want the sanitised version.’
The vehicle swept them only across the road to a flat plain where a helicopter awaited them. From the air, Molly peered out at the view of the palace from above and noted for the first time that there was a large, busy building site to the rear of it.
‘New offices and kitchens,’ Zahra informed her, but that was the entirety of their conversation during the flight because it was too noisy to chat.
They were set down in front of a large encampment of black tents and literally mobbed by a bunch of howling women the instant they appeared. Zahra explained to her that the howling was of a celebratory nature to welcome the bride. Her companion soon proved her worth by banishing the crowd, who wanted to see Molly bathe in the linen-lined copper bath she was confronted with.
‘I’ll stay at the entrance to make sure nobody comes in,’ Zahra proffered, politely turning her back as Molly shed her clothing and climbed with great difficulty into the deep bath, which clouded the air with the aroma of scented oils. ‘I have explained that in your culture bathing is always private.’
‘I expect there’s not much privacy in these tents between women,’ Molly conceded, determined not to make a fuss about the differences and to fit in to the best of her ability, but very grateful not to be forced to put her naked body on show.
