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‘I didn’t have any parents.’
‘You must have—’
‘Oh, there were two people who conceived me,’ she said, not appearing to care that she’d interrupted him. ‘But I didn’t know them. Or rather, I can’t remember them.’
This was the point at which Kulal would normally grow bored, and wary. He’d learnt to his cost that the more you allowed a woman to talk about herself, the more it gave a falsely inflated sense of her own importance. But he could see this was different. Hannah was not some lover who would soon be removed from his orbit as diplomatically as possible, once he had taken his fill of her. If he wanted any part of his child’s life, then she was going to be around for the long-haul.
His mouth hardened. How ironic that his future was to be inextricably linked to a woman he’d spent a single night with. A woman who could not have been more unsuitable for the task of bearing his heir. Yet their child would carry the genes of both their forebears, he reminded himself—so wasn’t it his duty to gather as much information as possible? His mouth hardened with new resolve. Because you never knew when such information might become useful.
He stared at her, aware that her defiant mask had slipped—showing a trace of vulnerability which had softened her face. And for some crazy reason, he was reminded of the night he’d spent with her, when her rosy lips had trembled whenever he had kissed her. When she’d shivered with ecstasy as he’d brought her to yet another breathtaking orgasm. When she’d curled up in his arms afterwards and clung to his neck like a little kitten. ‘So what happened with your parents?’ he questioned, aware that his voice had gentled. ‘Do you want to tell me?’
Actually, no. Hannah didn’t want that. Not at all. But the only thing worse than telling him would be not telling him. He seemed to want to keep their liaison and everything else a secret, but she wasn’t naïve enough to think they could do that for ever. If word got out that she had been the Sheikh’s lover, then wouldn’t people start prying into her background and rooting up all kinds of horrible stuff? She would come over as the victim she had tried so very hard not to be.
So take control of the facts and tell him yourself.
‘I was brought up in care,’ she said slowly. ‘With my sister.’
‘Care?’ he questioned blankly.
‘It’s when your parents can’t look after you—or if they don’t want to.’
‘And which category did yours fall into?’
Hannah shrugged. ‘I don’t really know a lot about them. Only what I was told when I was old enough to understand. My mother was kicked out by her parents when she was seventeen.’ There was a pause before she said it, because she didn’t want to say it. If she told him, would he freak out? Worry that his baby was going to inherit some disturbing traits, like addiction? But if he freaked out, then so be it. She couldn’t change facts and she mustn’t start being afraid of how Kulal might choose to interpret them, just because he was in a position of power. ‘She developed a drug habit.’
‘Your mother was a junkie?’ he exclaimed in horror.
Hannah’s lips tightened. It was funny how you could still be loyal to someone who hadn’t wanted you. Someone who had broken every rule in the parental handbook. ‘She didn’t inject,’ she said defensively, as if that made everything all right, and she found herself wondering if children were conditioned never to give up hope that one day their parents would love them and cherish them. Her hand moved instinctively to lie on her belly and she saw Kulal watching her closely. ‘But she took pretty much everything else which was on offer. My father was a rich student from New York, who enjoyed the same kind of...pastimes. The pregnancy wasn’t planned—obviously.’ Her mouth twisted. ‘Apparently, my mother wanted to get married. But then his parents arrived from America, scooped him up and put him into rehab and gave my mother a very large cheque, making it clear that, if she cashed it, they never wanted to see her again.’
‘And?’ he said, into the silence which followed.
‘That’s exactly what she did. She took the money and ran.’
‘So was that a satisfactory outcome?’ he questioned softly.
Hannah shrugged. ‘Satisfactory for her, I guess—until she ran out of cash. She started renting an apartment which was way too expensive for someone with limited funds and no employment. But in the circles she mixed in, she was suddenly seen as something of a catch—for as long as the money lasted. And that’s when she got pregnant with my sister.’
r /> ‘You mean, your father came back from America?’
‘No, that’s not what I mean at all,’ she said, giving a hollow laugh. ‘My sister and I don’t share the same father.’
Thoughtfully, he nodded. ‘I see. So you’re not full sisters, just half-sisters?’
His words were like punches and Hannah recoiled from them. ‘Not just anything,’ she contradicted, her hand slapping against a heart which was racing like a train. ‘Tamsyn and I are as close as any two sisters could be and I would do anything for her, do you understand? Anything.’
Again, he nodded. ‘Tell me what happened to you both.’
Had he used the word both to mollify her—a silent admission that he had underestimated her loyalty to her sister? Hannah didn’t know, but she found herself wanting to continue with her story. Was that because she never talked about it? Why would she? Yet she was finding it cathartic to let it all out for once, to tell the father of her child all about her chequered background.
‘The local council stepped in and put us in a home and tried to get us fostered out as quickly as possible.’ She saw another look of non-comprehension cloud his ebony eyes and it occurred to Hannah that, for all his power and position, Kulal was ignorant about some things. Well, of course he was, she thought. He’d been protected for all his privileged life, hadn’t he? He wasn’t like her. Thrown to the wolves and left to fend for herself... ‘They try to find you a family, who can then foster or adopt you,’ she explained.
‘Is that what happened to you?’
Hannah shrugged as she reached for her glass and took another sip of the sweet-sharp cordial. Yes, a foster home had been found for her and Tamsyn. All the boxes on the form had been ticked by the social worker in charge of the case and everyone had been satisfied that two neglected little girls had a stable home to go to at last. But it hadn’t felt like that. How could she explain to a man like Kulal that something which appeared normal on the outside could be anything but normal when you were inside, living it?
‘We had a roof over our heads and beds to sleep in,’ she said.
Kulal’s eyes narrowed. ‘You weren’t happy?’
