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CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ms Salah, please come to my office immediately.
KASIA STARED AT the text from Dean Walmsley. The dropping sensation in her already over-sensitive stomach exacerbated the tangle of anxiety.
She took a sip of her tea and a tentative nibble of the dry crackers she had been advised to snack on by her doctor, then gathered up her backpack and the textbooks she was returning to the library.
She would speak to Dean Walmsley on the way.
She had been expecting this confrontation for over a week, ever since she had returned from London. All she could do now was pray that he hadn’t been informed of the full extent of her unprofessionalism at the funding event. He’d been furious when he’d called her to his office on the Monday morning to inform her that Alice Evershot had emailed him to say the funding had not been forthcoming from the donor she had met.
Given that the donor was Raif, she was not remotely surprised at the decision to withdraw the offer. That she would have to wait to hear if she would receive the funding she needed for her PhD seemed somehow fitting in the circumstances as payback for the mistakes she’d made. She could not accept the funding from Raif now anyway, because it would give him a hold over her that could cause massive complications given their personal relationship.
Not that they had a personal relationship, she thought wearily as she made her way through the campus buildings towards Dean Walmsley’s office. The only thing that connected them now was the baby.
She’d had no word from Raif in the last week, which she should have been glad about. He must have read her note, realised she would have made him a terrible consort and decided not to contact her again until after the baby was born.
So why was she so disappointed? She didn’t want to have another confrontation with him on the question of marriage. But at the same time she couldn’t ignore the deep well of sadness, the yearning in the last week every time she woke in her single bed after another night spent dreaming about him and missed that leaping joy when she had woken up on the Saturday morning to find his arms around her.
Perhaps it was simply that, despite their terrible row, she knew Raif, for all his cynicism about love, was not an insensitive man—because of the dreadful cruelties he had suffered as a child, not in spite of them.
Regret tightened her throat.
It’s just the pregnancy hormones, Kaz, messing with you again. Even if you could have loved Raif, he could never have loved you back.
He had spent his whole life guarding against making himself vulnerable. And without vulnerability how could you have love? No matter how sensitive or intelligent he could be—the heat glowed in her stomach—or how attuned to he was to her sexual needs.
She trudged up the stairs of the red-brick building that housed the Dean’s office.
It’s a good thing he has seen reason—not a bad thing for you and your baby. Stop second-guessing yourself.
They would reach a
n accord together once the child was born, but to do that without enmity or anger, they needed a break now, which was precisely why she had asked that of him in her note. That he had respected her decision was a positive sign. He was not intractable, not averse to seeing reason.
She wanted very much for her son or daughter to know its father, to have a relationship with him and for him to have a relationship with his child. For that to happen, they needed to be able to negotiate with each other in good faith without the spectre of past hurts, past wrongs rearing their heads. To take time out was a good thing. That Raif had seen reason—and hadn’t stalked straight after her—was therefore all good, even if it didn’t feel that good at the moment.
Of course she felt vulnerable, scared, lonely. She was going to have to bring up her child alone. And find out how to continue her academic career as a single parent. She still hadn’t gained the courage to contact Cat and tell her what was going on.
She blew out a breath as she reached the top of the stairs and headed down the corridor to Walmsley’s office and the bad news she was sure awaited her about her PhD.
If only she didn’t feel so tired all the time—the bouts of nausea restricted themselves to the early morning, thank goodness—but the pregnancy, and the difficulty she’d had sleeping since she’d left Raif’s bed, had also taken a heavy toll on her energy. Shifting the books in her arms, she tapped on the door to the Dean’s office. ‘Dean Walmsley, it’s Kasia Salah.’
‘Come in, Miss Salah,’ came the curt response.
She straightened her spine, hearing the irritation in Walmsley’s tone. Okay, that did not sound promising.
If the Dean was about to kick her out of the college, she would just have to find another way to get funding. The PhD she wanted to pursue was important to Narabia. And also important to her.
But the prickle of unease became an explosion as soon as she stepped into the office, and saw the man sitting in front of Walmsley’s desk.
Raif.
He stood, his tall frame clad in a designer business suit silhouetted against the sunshine flooding through Walmsley’s window.
‘Miss Salah, it’s about time you arrived. Mr Khan and I have been waiting…’ Walmsley began to talk, but his reprimand was drowned out by the pounding in Kasia’s ears.
Her gaze devoured Raif, the brutal awareness, the painful longing she couldn’t seem to curtail or control only becoming more disturbing as she took in the flare of desire in his dark chocolate eyes and the harsh, unyielding line of his jaw.
