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Leila’s hopeful look faded and became something else—something cynical, hunted. She gestured to her belly. ‘It’s not as if people don’t know we’ve already consummated our relationship.’
Alix had to battle the urge to remind her of just what that consummation had felt like. The magnitude of the fact that Leila was here under his roof, pregnant, was hitting him in a very deep and secret place.
He ruthlessly pushed it down and walked into the suite. ‘I hope you’ll find the apartment comfortable.’
Leila had followed him in and was looking around with big eyes. He saw it as if for the first time again: the understated luxury that the ruling regime had seen fit to keep for themselves. It was a little shabby now, but still with shades of its former opulent glory.
A glory that would be fully restored.
With his wife by his side.
With that in mind Alix forced out all emotion and said, ‘The sleeping quarters are accessed back through the main hall. I have instructed that you are to have everything you might need.’
Leila looked at him and he could see the faint shadows under her eyes. Like delicate bruises.
The fact that she didn’t want to be here sat like a dense heavy stone in his chest. He ignored it. She wouldn’t have that power over him.
‘I’ve made an arrangement for a scan at the hospital tomorrow—apparently you’re due one about now.’
Leila’s mouth twisted. ‘To check on the cargo? Make sure that it’s all looking good before you commit?’
Alix gritted his jaw at the sudden urge he had to go over and slam his mouth down on hers, making those mutinous lines soften.
‘Something like that.’ He moved towards the door. ‘You should rest, Leila. The next few days will be busy.’
And then he left, almost afraid that she’d see something of the lack of control he felt.
Leila watched Alix leave. She was barely aware of the beauty of her surroundings, only vaguely aware that they’d walked through an open-air courtyard to come into the living room.
She felt numb with tiredness, delayed shock and the lingering effects of adrenaline.
Exploring back through the main hall, she found a bathroom off the bedroom. It was massive, with a grand central sunken tub. The dressing room was a more modern room, luxuriously carpeted and filled from floor to ceiling with clothes. A central island held hundreds of accessories in various shelves and drawers—and underwear. Underwear that made her cheeks grow hot.
She hurriedly shut those drawers, knowing how wasted the lovely underwear would be—because clearly Alix felt no desire for her any more, despite that kiss earlier, which had just been for appearances. He’d looked at her since as if he could hardly bear to be in the same room as her.
She ignored the pain near her heart and found the least skimpy nightwear she could find. Silk pyjamas. After conducting a rudimentary toilette and carefully putting the jewellery away in a drawer, she climbed into a bed that might have slept a football team and tried not to be too intimidated by the grandeur.
For a long time she looked up at the ceiling. Leila couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that if Alix didn’t desire her any more, then what glue could possibly hold their union together beyond duty and a shared responsibility for their child?
* * *
The following early afternoon Leila was pacing in the sitting room of her lavish suite. Marie-Louise had appeared that morning with a meek-looking girl who apparently was to be Leila’s personal maid. When Leila had protested she’d been ignored and all but marched into a small dining room, where a delicious breakfast had been laid out. Her stomach had still been in knots, so she hadn’t eaten much.
She’d explored thoroughly now, and had discovered the beautiful open-air atrium had a small pool, with glittering mosaics on the bottom and brightly coloured fish darting back and forth.
There was also a terrace outside her bedroom doors, and a balcony that overlooked the town far below with its brightly painted houses and the harbour.
Smells had tickled her nostrils, making her tip her head back to breathe deep. Earth, flowers, the sea, a distant wood... And then she’d realised why Alix had reacted so strongly to the scent she’d made. She’d somehow managed intuitively to recreate the scents of this island without having ever been there before.
Hating it that she felt so hurt because he obviously didn’t wear the scent any more, Leila focused on checking herself in a nearby mirror. She’d had to pick a dress from the vast array of clothes in the dressing room as her own clothes hadn’t appeared yet. She’d chosen a simple wrap dress in a very deep blue, and matching shoes.
She plucked at the material now, feeling that it was gaping over her breasts, which were sensitive and felt inordinately swollen.
She put a hand on her belly, knowing that it hadn’t grown perceptibly in size, but feeling a telltale bloatedness.
‘How are you today?’
Leila jumped and whirled around to see Alix behind her, hands in his pockets, dressed in a simple dark suit and white shirt. Every inch of him exuded pure masculine power and sensuality. And that new reserve tinged with disapproval.
