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“There is another option, habibi.”
Her jaw dropped. “You’d better not be talking about abortion. It’s way too late for that and it’s something I would never consider. Not for our baby. Are you kidding me?”
His cheekbones slashed with dark colour. “I was not referring to abortion.”
“Adoption then? That’s also completely out of the question. Come on, Zafar. This isn’t complicated. I’m pregnant, and I’m having the baby. I’m raising the baby. And if you’re concerned about the baby feeling rejected by the great Sheikh Zafar al Habib, I’ll make sure they never feel that way, don’t worry.”
“How? By denying that I am the father? By attempting to keep me from their life?”
“I don’t know,” she said after a moment. “But I’ll work it out.”
“No.”
She fiddled with her fingers, unnerved by the nature of their conversation. She’d thought he’d grab what she was offering with two very grateful hands. “Then what do you want? Apart from going back in time and not sleeping together that night.”
“Don’t put words into my mouth,” he said quietly. “If you wish to undo what we shared, that’s your choice, not mine.”
Her lips parted. “I didn’t mean —,” But she cut herself off, shaking her head. “Forget it. This is impossible. We can’t even have a conversation. This would be way better done over email, or through our lawyers.”
“Perhaps you’re right, at least about the lawyers,” he murmured.
Her heart sank. “So you are going to sue for custody?”
He studied her from where he sat, reclined in the chair with all the appearance of relaxation. “Oh, no, Amelia. I meant for our lawyers to sort out the details of our marriage contract. Custody will, naturally, be fully shared between us, as husband and wife.”
