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Izzy froze. She was in a mood, fit to be tied, wholly unable to rationalise the rage and hurt and sense of threat she was experiencing and that declaration of his was the last straw. ‘Not...without...your...consent?’ she questioned incredulously.
‘Not withoutmyconsent,’ Rafiq repeated with unapologetic emphasis.
‘Well, we’ll just see about that!’ Izzy flung back wildly, dragging open the door between their rooms and slamming it shut again with a thunderous crash.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘YOUCAN’TJUSTget into bed and ignore this!’ Rafiq raked down at her as she lay in her bed.
Izzy spared him a brief glance that couldn’t quite contrive to take in all of him for, clad only in jeans, a shirt hanging open on his bronzed torso and with his feet still bare, there was an awful lot of tall, lethally well-built Rafiq to encompass.
Izzy parted her lips. ‘Watch me,’ she urged curtly.
Rafiq stalked across the room like a predator ready to spring on prey and she watched even though she didn’t want to. Something about that fluid prowling, loose-limbed grace of his tugged at her every sense and, gritting her teeth, she turned over and buried her hot face in the pillow. She was a mess of conflicting feelings. Rage and hurt. Lust and self-loathing. Fear and resentment.
‘Wehaveto talk about it,’ Rafiq grated.
‘Nothing to talk about,’ Izzy said mutinously. ‘We’re not going to take a twin each and call it quits, are we? And since no sane parent woulddothat to their children that leaves us standing in conflicting corners.’
Rafiq flung back the sheet covering her and she flipped over in disbelief, her sapphire eyes alight with fury. He scooped her up, ignoring her struggles, and planted her down on the side of the bed.
‘Wewilltalk about this,’ he said again fiercely.
Bridling like a cat that had been stroked the wrong way, Izzy smoothed a hand down over the silk and lace sleep shorts and strappy top she had put on, uneasily aware of how much skin she was exposing.
‘How could you think for one minute that I would walk away from my babies?’ she demanded rawly.
‘I spent my formative years with a mother who continually walked away. Yes, I saw other maternal examples, in my uncle’s home in particular, but I have always been aware that, just as there are men who can walk away from their children, there are also women who choose to do the same thing,’ Rafiq completed in a driven undertone.
Izzy could not argue with that statement, but she still flung her head back to look at him, unable to accept that explanation for his assumption about her. ‘But youknowme. I can’t believe that you thoughtIwould do that.’
‘You said you wanted your life back the way it had been. When you married me, you were very set on retaining your freedom and the choices you had already made. I can understand that outlook,’ Rafiq conceded grimly. ‘It was not for me to judge you.’
‘Oh, don’t come over all tactful now!’ Izzy interrupted angrily. ‘You assumed that I would give up my children pretty much completely to do...what? Train as a teacher? My children are more important and if you don’t get that, you don’t get anything about me!’
‘It may be that Iwasguilty of wishful thinking, of hoping that there would not be conflict between us over this issue.’
‘Oh, you’d better believe that there’s going to be conflict!’ Izzy hissed.
‘But there were no false pretences,’ Rafiq insisted. ‘Therewasa genuine misunderstanding. I took too much for granted when you agreed to marry me. I was too keen to persuade you to marry me for the sake of the children, too relieved by your agreement to go into the matter in proper depth. Neither of us clearly expressed our wishes or intentions.’
‘It should’ve been obvious to you that I always intended to take my children back to the UKwithme.’
Rafiq raised a lean brown hand in an infuriating silencing motion. ‘They aremychildren too.’
‘I’m their mother,’ Izzy stated vehemently.
‘And I am their father. Why should I be any more willing to be deprived of my children than you are?’ Rafiq demanded wrathfully, stunning dark golden eyes ablaze with anger.
‘I wasn’t planning to deprive you of them. You would’ve been free to see them any time you liked!’ Izzy fired back.
‘And how much time do you think I have to travel to the UK?’ Rafiq prompted. ‘In eighteen months, I will be King. My uncle only leaves Zenara for state visits, which are tightly scheduled, and he has little free time for travel. I will no longer be travelling on business. Even now I am bound to a very tight itinerary. I am not and I willnotbe free to do as I like.’
Izzy breathed in deep and threw her head back, copper curls dancing around her porcelain-pale face. ‘I’m sorry if that is the case but, considering that we agreed to separate before we married, your problems are notmyproblems,’ she declared, suppressing the guilt his arguments had unleashed inside her and the sensation that she was being unfair. ‘And if you are likely to bethatbusy, surely the children will be much better off living with me.’
‘For them I will make time, I willalwaysmake time,’ Rafiq framed with fierce conviction. ‘Probably because few people made time for me as a child.’
And her heart clenched inside her because she knew that he would make that effort, knew it for sure even while still furiously, bitterly resenting his willingness to believe that she would have been prepared to accept only an infrequent role acting as a mother to her children.
