AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She made a quick calculation. ‘I’m not expecting my period for another two weeks, but I can take an early pregnancy test in about nine or ten days’ time. Or I can...the morning-after pill is an option if that’s what you want—’
‘No! It is not. You will not get rid of my child before we even know there is a possibility of one.’
A wave of relief hit her at his vehement rejection of the remedy that had disturbed her to even consider, despite reeling at the possibility that she might be pregnant. Last night had been monumental. But it was nothing compared to the realisation that there could be long-lasting consequences to what they’d done.
‘Zaid... I don’t know if I can—’
Strong hands seized her shoulders, cutting her off. But, unlike last time, there was no tenderness in his face, no promise of untold pleasure blazing from his eyes. ‘Don’t say it. Don’t even think of uttering words that would deny my child’s existence.’
‘I wasn’t. But I’m not prepared for any of this.’
Lips she’d kissed barely half an hour ago flattened before he sighed and released her. She sagged back into the bed as he trailed his fingers down her arm to capture her hand. But again there was no hint of warmth, and it felt more like a way of making sure she stayed where she was. In case she what? Bolted? Esme was sure her legs wouldn’t carry her one single step, never mind to anywhere far enough away from this tent to give her some peace of mind.
‘We will step back from the edge of any hasty decision. We will get dressed and start the day with something as mundane as breakfast.’
She contained the urge to break into hysterical laughter. Nothing about the everyday life of Zaid Al-Ameen would ever be considered mundane, even the food he ate. ‘And then what?’
‘Then we will consider our options. Ones that don’t include taking drastic measures. Are we agreed?’ The question was filled with purpose.
And because she needed time too to absorb everything that had happened since she’d followed Fawzi into this tent last night, she answered, ‘Yes, we’re agreed.’
And just like that the subject was shelved. He let go of her hand and rose from the bed, then left the room without a backward glance.
When she was sure her legs would keep her upright, Esme stood and dressed in the clothes from the night before, which had been folded and placed on the chair at the bottom of the bed. Then, unsure of whether to leave or wait for Zaid, she dawdled for another half an hour in the bedroom.
Eventually, it was one of the servants who came in and beckoned her out to where Zaid was already seated on floor cushions spread around the dining area.
Breakfast was a feast of fruit, nuts, yoghurt, pastries, an assortment of juices, tea and coffee, served in respectful silence by a clutch of servants who bowed and smiled at their noble ruler, and cast keenly speculative glances her way. If the notion lingered for a moment that the women’s interest in her this morning was far greater than it had been yesterday, or the day before, Esme had no room to dwell on it. Not when the subject of a baby...Zaid’s baby...had taken over every corner of her mind.
She declined all but a piece of tangerine, a slice of toast and a small helping of honeyed yoghurt. Although Zaid’s lips firmed, he didn’t comment, his brow clamped as he remained deep in his own thoughts.
The moment the meal was cleared away, she stood to retrieve her scarf in anticipation of returning to her own tent. Absently she noted that it too had been moved and neatly folded on a low armoire in the living room. About to pick it up, she froze.
Zaid might be the Sultan, but his l
ife wasn’t his own. It never would be. It was a life he’d been destined for from the moment of his birth, a life he’d been trained for and embraced even while he’d been exiled.
Whereas she...
Esme swallowed. On the wild chance that she’d fallen pregnant, her life, or at least a huge part of it as the mother of the future heir of Ja’ahr, would be lived in this same, exotic fishbowl, no matter where on earth she chose to reside. She would be scrutinised at every turn. And as the daughter of Jeffrey Scott, her past too would become a source of interest.
Her past would be exposed. Including her role in her father’s life before she’d walked away from him. And what had happened in Vegas. With Bryan.
Her outstretched hand trembled so badly she clenched it into a fist.
‘What’s wrong?’ Zaid demanded sharply.
She jumped and spun around to face him. Intelligent eyes were locked on her, examining her every breath, her every blink. The all-black traditional attire he’d changed into gave him an air of a merciless conqueror, despite the white trim bordering the material. ‘I... I’m afraid shelving this isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. Yesterday I was just a social worker, assigned to do a job I know and love. Today I’m...’
‘You’re the Sultan’s lover, and the woman who could be carrying the next heir of Ja’ahr,’ he intoned baldly, leaving no room for equivocation.
The tremble in her hand transmitted to her whole body. For a single moment Esme found herself praying that his seed had not taken root inside her. If for no other reason than because of the shame she would bring on her child, its father, and the people of Ja’ahr should her secret be discovered. She clenched her gut against the guilt and pain that followed on the heels of that thought.
‘Esmeralda?’ His autocratic voice brought her mind back into focus.
She turned and snatched up her scarf. ‘I’m going back to my tent. I expect you have...um...people waiting to meet with you.’
His frown intensified, but after a moment he nodded. ‘I’ll ensure you’re not disturbed while you rest.’
