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“Because you want me to marry you? I’m not allowed to go on a public tour with another man? Come on, Zafar. Don’t be absurd and act as if you’re jealous or something.”
“This isn’t about him,” he denied swiftly. “You’re pregnant with the sole heir to the throne of Abu Qara. Effective immediately, you will require security. Your lifestyle must be curtailed to reflect your new status. It is not appropriate for you to climb onto a crowded bus and mill about in throngs of people.”
Her jaw dropped. These were things that had never occurred to her. It wasn’t enough that his proposal was new, she’d known for months that she was expecting his baby – she should have realised that their child would require some sort of security protection. Frustration at her naivety churned through her blood. “No one knows about the baby,” she murmured, pressing her hand to her stomach. “And certainly, no one knows that I was stupid enough to get involved with you,” she added, for good measure.
“Why haven’t you told my sister?”
She shook her head. “I doubt she’d have approved.”
His lips formed a grim line. “Cancel the tour. You can go another time.”
She shook her head. “I’m not going to upend my life just because you demand it of me. And if you think that’s the kind of wife I’ll be, then think again. If I marry you, and that’s a huge if right now, I’ll expect to live autonomously. You might be king of all you survey, but that doesn’t include me. Got it?”
* * *
Zafar scrapedhis eyes over the impeccable military uniform of his security chief. “Two officers. Discreet, maintain a distance, try not to make their presence known. But this guest is high-value. I expect her to be protected.”
“Yes, your highness. Anything else?”
Zafar shook his head by way of dismissal, waiting until the door to his office was closed before expelling a long sigh of frustration. He paced to the window, staring not through it but instead looking at the chair Amelia had occupied only a short time earlier. Disbelief fired through him. For a long time, Zafar had controlled every aspect of his life. But not Amelia. Never her.
And now they would marry. She was right when she’d said it was the last thing he wanted. He’d never intended to marry – it was a pledge he’d made when he was only fifteen, certain that he could never provide the heir his lineage required. That would fall to his younger brother Aziz or Farrah, and Zafar had been glad. He didn’t want the duty.
But now? The choice had been taken from his hands. He would never have chosen to have children, yet he was to become a father regardless.
This baby was not an abstract concept. Amelia was wrong about that. It was a real, growing, imminent person, and he would do everything in his power to protect them, to raise them in security and comfort, to ensure they understood their place in the world – and what he’d done to provide it. His child would be the rightful heir to Abu Qara, and Zafar would raise them accordingly.
Yes, for their child, it was worth it, but still, he couldn’t rid himself of a darkness, a sense of guilt that ran through him whenever he remembered Amelia’s face. She’d been floored by his suggestion. Shocked, and obviously terrified. Was the idea of marriage to him so disastrous?
“You can’t mean this. These last few months, all the time we’ve spent together, all the nights we’ve spent together, you can’t honestly mean to tell me that was just casual sex for you?”
“I should have been clearer.”
“Don’t say this,” she lifted a hand, her fingers shaking. “Don’t say something that will haunt me forever. Not if it’s not true.”
But he had to say it. He needed her to hear it. “I don’t love you, Amelia. Nor have I ever thought about spending time with you beyond this summer. I was perfectly aware you were here temporarily and it never occurred to me to look for more. I apologise that this…hurts your feelings.”
“Hurts my feelings?” She repeated, her voice cracking. “You have no idea about feelings, you big — you big — argh, I am so angry with you right now. I don’t believe this. You’re pushing me away. Why?”
He focussed on her, his face calm, his voice steady. “Because I don’t want you. I don’t want any of what you’ve just offered. I’m not interested, okay?”
He grimaced now as he recalled the harshness of his words, and the way her face had crumpled for the briefest moment before she’d pulled herself together, staring at him with so much courage he’d wanted to hug her, to hell with what he’d just said.
He hated hurting her. He hated it. But it had been necessary. She’d constructed a fantasy of a shared life without his realisation, a fantasy that would never be possible.
It was a lesson he’d learned the very hard way. Knowing how hurt she was, and that he was the cause of it, Zafar had refused to be drawn into another affair since. He couldn’t risk it. Not even a one night stand, despite what the press might think. He couldn’t blame the tabloids for printing stories about him. Any time he went to an event and spoke to a woman, he was rumoured to be seeing her. But then again, he’d spent his early twenties in a number of indiscreet, whirlwind affairs and earned himself a certain reputation. The press simply kept that reputation going even when there was no basis for it. After Millie left, Zafar had sworn he’d never be responsible for another broken heart. His past was always chasing after him, reminding him of who he was and what he came from and he refused to let it catch up to him.
He would marry Amelia, and he would make sure she was as happy as she could be. He owed her that much, clearly.
