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But the moment he opened his mouth she knew she had been wishing for the stars.
‘I think, given your current state of hysteria, that you might be better to sleep on it. I will give you some space by moving into a hotel tonight—and hopefully, by morning, you might have calmed down a little.’ His voice suddenly softened. ‘Because getting yourself into this kind of state can’t be good for the baby, Keeley.’
It was the final twist of the knife and Keeley wanted to howl with frustration. And sorrow. That too. She was glad he cared for his unborn son, but suddenly she needed him to care for her, too—and he was never going to do that. Quickly, she turned away from him, terrified he would see the heartbreak on her face or witness the tears which had begun to stream from her eyes as she stumbled her way towards the bedroom.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE OCTOBER SKY was grey and brooding and Ariston was staring into space when the intercom on his desk buzzed and the disembodied voice of Dora, his assistant, spoke.
‘I have Sheikh Azraq of Qaiyama on the line for you on one, Ariston.’
Restlessly, Ariston tapped his finger against the surface of the desk. He had been waiting for the call to confirm a deal he’d worked hard for. A deal which had the potential to increase the company’s portfolio by many millions of dollars. He was about to accept the call when his mobile phone started ringing and he saw the name which was flashing up on the screen. Keeley. He felt the urgent crash of his heart and the sudden tightening of his throat.
‘Tell the Sheikh I’ll call him back later, Dora.’
‘But, Ariston...’
It was rare for his assistant to even attempt to remonstrate with him but Ariston knew the reason for her unusual intervention. Sheikh Azraq Al-Haadi was one of the most powerful leaders of the desert lands and one who would not take kindly to his refusal to accept a phone call which had taken many days of planning to organise. But one thing he knew without a shadow of a doubt was that talking to Keeley was more important. His tapping ceased and Ariston’s hand clenched into a tight fist as satisfaction hardened his lips into a smile. Was she regretting her decision to walk out on him? Finding that life wasn’t quite so straightforward without the protection of her influential husband? Had she realised that he’d been right all along and that his concern about her associates had sprung solely from a need to protect her? He allowed himself a beat of anticipation. He would accept her back, yes, but she must understand that he would accept no similar tantrums or hysteria in the future—for all their sakes.
‘Please tell the Sheikh I will move heaven and earth to arrange another call,’ he said firmly. ‘But for now I have someone else I need to speak to, so don’t disturb me until I say so, Dora.’
He snatched up the mobile phone and clicked the connection, but took care to keep his voice bland and noncommittal. ‘Hello?’
There was a breathless kind of pause. ‘Ariston,’ came the soft English voice which made his heart stab with a strange kind of pain. ‘You took so long to answer that I thought you weren’t going to pick up.’
Something inside him was urging him to make an attempt at conciliation but the anger he’d felt when she had carried through her threat and walked out on him had not left him.
‘Well, I’m here now,’ he said coolly. ‘What is it you want, Keeley?’
The tone of her voice altered immediately and the stumbled apology he had been expecting was not forthcoming.
‘As I’m having private healthcare, my obstetrician has fitted in an extra check-up for me and I’m due for a scan tomorrow,’ she said, her voice now as cool as his. ‘And I thought you might like to come. I realise it’s very short notice and you might not be able to clear your diary in time—’
‘Is that why you left it so late to invite me?’
He heard the unmistakable sound of a frustrated sigh. ‘No, Ariston. But since you haven’t bothered answering any of my emails—’
‘You know I don’t like communicating by email,’ he said moodily.
‘Yes, I realise that.’ There was a pause. ‘I just... I wasn’t sure whether or not you’d want to see me. I thought about sending you a photo once I’d had the scan done, then thought that wouldn’t be fair and so I—’
‘What time,’ he interrupted brutally, ‘is it happening?’
‘Midday. At the Princess Mary hospital. Where we went before—you remember?’
‘I’ll be there,’ he said, before the voice of his conscience forced the next question from his lips. ‘How are you?’
‘I’m fine. All good.’ He could hear her swallowing. ‘The midwife is very pleased with my progress and I—’
‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he said, and terminated the conversation.
He sat staring into space afterwards, angry with himself for being so short with her, but what the hell did she expect—that he would run around after her like some kind of puppy? He stared at the sky, whose dark clouds had now begun to empty slanting rods of rain onto the surrounding skyscrapers. After their blazing row he’d spent the night in a hotel to give her time to cool off, returning the following morning and expecting her to have changed her mind. In fact, he’d been expecting an apology. His mouth hardened. How wrong he had been. There had been no contrition or attempt to make things better. Her mood had been flat yet purposeful as she had repeated her determination to move out.
He’d tried being reasonable. He had not opposed her wishes, giving her free rein to move into her own place, telling himself that, if he gave her the freedom she thought she wanted and the space she thought she needed, it would bring her running right back. But it hadn’t. On the contrary, she had made a cosy little nest out of her rented cottage on Wimbledon Common, as if she was planning to stay there for ever. During his one brief visit, he had stared in disbelief at the sunny yellow room, which she had made into a perfect nursery by adorning the walls with pictures of rabbits and such like. A shiny mobile of silvery fish had twirled above a brand-new crib and in the hallway had stood an old-fashioned pram. He had looked out of the window at the seemingly endless green grass of the Common and his heart had clenched with pain as he acknowledged his exclusion. And yet pride stopped him from showing it. He had given a cool shake of his head when she had offered him tea, citing a meeting in the city as the reason why.
She had told him she would be fair and that he could have paternal visiting rights as often as he liked and he believed her, but the idea of living without his son made his heart clench with pain. And yet the thought of an ugly legal battle for their baby had suddenly seemed all wrong.
Why?
