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‘Provisionally.’
India’s hand curled over her stomach as she remembered the negotiations they’d had when she’d first arrived in the country. Back then, she’d pushed for a delay, and part of that had included reminding Khalil that the first trimester was a high-risk time in gestation. But the idea of anything happening to the twins made her feel as though she were going to pass out. She couldn’t bear it.
‘So after twelve weeks,’ she said slowly, ‘you’ll tell them.’
‘And we’ll announce our marriage.’ He nodded. ‘If my calculations are correct, that’s next week.’
Her cheeks flushed with warmth. ‘Yes. Wednesday.’
He nodded, turning away from her, resuming their walk, but at a gentle pace so India found it easy to keep up.
‘The wedding will take place Friday evening. Is there anyone you’d like to invite?’
She thought of Jackson, and how strange it would be to marry without him, and yet, at the same time, she didn’t want to make a big deal out of what was essentially a convenient arrangement.
‘No. No one.’
‘Not your brother?’
She glanced at Khalil, wondering how he knew exactly what she was thinking. ‘It would feel like lying to him. I don’t think I can do that. It’s not real.’
‘Lying how?’
She sighed. ‘We grew up in the same home. We saw what our parents were like, how madly in love, and what a perfect pair. He wants the same things I do—love, happily ever after, you know, the whole deal. I don’t know how he’ll...when I tell him...’
Khalil frowned. ‘You haven’t told him?’
‘No. We were waiting, remember?’
‘But now?’
‘Soon.’ She nodded. ‘I’ll have to tell him soon.’
Khalil stared at her as though there were a thousand things he wanted to say, his brows drawn together with obvious non-comprehension, but he let it go, relying on her instincts. She was glad. She didn’t want to explain about Jackson, and how she’d always been protective of her younger brother; she didn’t want to go into the details of why she didn’t want to worry him. She knew he’d be disappointed in her, and for her, and she couldn’t bear that.
‘Then we will keep the ceremony small: just us, my parents and Astrid.’
‘What was your other wedding going to be like?’
A muscle jerked in his jaw, and she could see the topic gave him little pleasure. ‘Big.’
‘As in, lots of people?’
‘Yes.’
She lifted a brow, her tone lightly teasing. ‘You’re being evasive.’
‘Am I?’
She laughed, despite her frustration. ‘Obviously. If you don’t want to talk about it, just say so; I’ll understand.’
He expelled a harsh breath. ‘I will talk about anything you wish. But do I need to elaborate?’
The problem was she’d asked simple, ‘yes’ or ‘no’ questions. She changed her approach. ‘How many people would have come to that wedding?’
‘Two thousand.’
She gasped. ‘You can’t be serious?’
