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‘Do you think you will be comfortable here?’ Shahir strode in, coolly immaculate in a light grey business suit. ‘My family use this as a base when they visit London. Raza stayed here while he was at university, but he has his own apartment now. Perhaps it is time for me to acquire a more private dwelling?’
As Shahir moved deeper into the room the nurse slipped out, with a coy smile that only embarrassed Kirsten.
‘That nurse is acting like we’re honeymooners, desperate to be alone with each other,’ she muttered apologetically.
In answer, Shahir bent down. Closing one deft hand into the shining fall of her silvery blonde hair, he circled her luscious pink mouth with his until her lips parted and allowed him to delve deep in an expert and provocative foray. Wildly disconcerted by that sensual exploration, Kirsten felt her body quicken with startling urgency. The rosy tips of her breasts pinched tight into a distended and tender fullness that made her whimper low in her throat in disconcertion. Coming down beside her on the bed, Shahir tasted her lips slowly and hungrily, and then lifted his dark head.
‘If only we were free to take advantage of being alone…but we’re not. The sweetest pleasures are always forbidden.’ A wicked smile slashed his lean, savagely handsome features with a wildness that shocked her as much as it excited her. ‘But the knowledge that you desire me as much as I desire you helps me to be patient.’
Ludicrously unprepared for his confrontation, which had come out of nowhere at her, Kirsten quivered with outrage and uncertainty. ‘But that’s not true!’
Assured brown fingers smoothed over the prominent thrust of her pouting breasts beneath the fine silk, teasing at the stiff and straining crests she would have hidden from him had she only had the opportunity. With a moan of shame she flushed to the roots of her hair and shut her eyes tight, even though she was guiltily conscious that she was revelling in the achingly sweet tingling of her sensitive flesh.
‘Your body knows me—and the truth. Were it possible I would lie with you now and give you all the pleasure and excitement that you could handle,’ Shahir murmured huskily. ‘But the present need for restraint will make those delights all the more intense when the time comes.’
‘This is supposed to be a fake marriage!’ Kirsten framed in shaken protest.
‘That was your idea. Is it also your wish? What benefit would such an arrangement offer to either of us? I don’t do fake,’ Shahir enumerated with precision. ‘You are my wife, whom I would protect with my life, and soon you will be the mother of my child. I want nothing false or pretend in our marriage. Did I mention that there will be a second wedding held for us in Dhemen?’
She stared back at him, her eyes clinging to his lean strong face, to the fierce resolve etched there. ‘No…you didn’t.’
‘Perhaps by then you too will know what you want. Even were we able to share a bed now I would prefer to honour you by restraining my ardour until you are considered truly mine by all my family,’ he admitted levelly.
‘Will your family accept me?’ she asked in sudden apprehension.
‘Of course,’ he said gently. ‘For the sake of appearances a polite fiction has been coined. According to that story, we married in secret last year because my father disapproved of our match and withheld his consent for an official wedding. The imminent birth of our child can in that way be viewed as having softened the King’s heart into accepting the wife I chose for myself, and nobody loses face.’
Kirsten veiled her eyes, for she was thinking that he had not chosen her. Sexual attraction had overruled self-discipline, and the price of succumbing to temptation had been high. But possibly he had paid the highest price, because he did not love her as she loved him and she would never be the wife he would have chosen for himself.
‘That soft shade of green suits you to perfection,’ he remarked huskily. ‘Your hair looks like white-gold against it.’
‘I didn’t even say thank you for your gifts…Thank you—you picked beautiful things.’
‘It was nothing. I only suggested the colours.’ Honesty bade him admit it, and a faint darkening of colour emphasised the stunning angle of his proud cheekbones. ‘I was lost when it came to styles, although I mentioned what I thought you would like to the manageress.’
Kirsten was watching him in fascination. ‘Haven’t you bought anything like this before?’
He frowned at the idea. ‘No…but if I didn’t take care of it, who else was there to do it?’
Kirsten dropped her head to conceal the smile creeping over her lips. Evidently he had made a special effort on her behalf, and shopping for such intimate apparel had rather embarrassed him. She was delighted to discover that she was the very first woman he had bought lingerie for. Maybe he wasn’t quite as much of a womaniser as she had imagined…
‘Ah!’ she gasped abruptly, pressing her palm to the side of her tummy as the baby chose that instant to kick with vigour.
‘The baby?’ His spectacular golden eyes shimmered and he moved closer and extended a lean, bronzed hand. ‘May I?’
Her hesitation was brief. ‘Yes…’
He spread gentle fingers to the firm swell of her belly and laughed out loud with satisfaction. His wonder and pride were reflected in his eloquent gaze. ‘What joy you are bringing me,’ he murmured, with a sincerity that touched her deep.
Shahir might not love her, but on the other hand he certainly didn’t seem to feel trapped by her pregnancy, she reflected with satisfaction. His genuine pleasure at the prospect of fatherhood meant a great deal to her. He definitely wanted their unborn child, and was prepared to celebrate his or her arrival rather than simply accept it as an inevitable event. Furthermore, although she currently had as much shape as a barrel and could not see her feet, remarkably Shahir still seemed to find her attractive. Those were very strong positives to build on, Kirsten told herself dizzily.
Yet for all that she was married to a man who still firmly believed she was a thief.
That unwelcome recollection hit her like a bucket of icy water. With difficulty she suppressed her hurt and resentment on that score. Although it mortified her to acknowledge the fact, she felt that Shahir had barely known her as a person before he had swept her into bed at Strathcraig, and he had misjudged her accordingly. Now they were finally getting to know each other, and forming a real relationship with bonds that were new and fragile. And she did not want to damage those bonds by staging a confrontation too soon. After all, what evidence of her innocence could she offer him? She had none. But when Shahir had a better understanding of her she would reopen the subject of her supposed dishonesty, and insist that he hear her out with a more open mind, she decided tautly.
The next morning she was having breakfast when a sizeable bundle of magazines and books arrived. She smiled at yet another demonstration of his thoughtfulness. Without thinking about nausea or appetite, or indeed noticing the presence or lack of either, she somehow managed to happily work her way through a bowl of cereal, a whole buttered croissant and two cups of hot chocolate.
Over the couple of weeks that followed Shahir spent all of his free time with her, but even though she would not have objected he did not make any attempt to kiss her again.
