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But he hadn't come to her room.
Not even once.
He'd kept his promise.
Why wasn't she surprised by that? She already knew he was a man of honor. Why had she expected him to behave like some frustrated, passionate lover, instead of her prospective husband?
They reached the door to her room. She paused and looked at him. He gazed at her. There was no hint of impatience in his eyes. What she saw there was mainly concern.
"If you need anything, you can call one of the servants," he said evenly.
Yes. There was a hint of frustration in his voice, after all, she told herself. Of course she could call a servant, if she needed something. But, what he really wanted was for her to call him. She could see that in his eyes.
That wasn't going to happen. Especially not on the first day of their married life.
Grace opened the door and took a step inside, turning back to Qazim. "Thank you, Qazim," she said.
His brows furrowed. "For what?"
"For being such a good husband," she said.
His eyes widened. She'd taken him by surprise with her choice of words. They'd come to mind, impulsively, and perhaps not too wisely. But she meant what she'd said.
He hesitated. She saw him struggle to find his next words. Then he said: "You're welcome, Grace. I only want what's best for you." His gaze flickered down to her middle. "And of course..." he said letting his words drift off.
She smiled at him. Right now, there was a temptation to ask him inside. Just for a while. She was sure they could be pleasant and polite to one another once they were alone in her suite. They'd managed to pull that off well enough these past few days.
But, one look into his eyes changed her mind. This was their wedding day. And, even if she promised herself that she wouldn't be tempted by him, she could see the seriousness in his gaze. There was a barely contained desire inside him. She could almost see him straining with every sinew to hold himself in check.
"I'll arrange for the servants to come and help you," he announced.
He'd admitted defeat. Even on a day such as this, he was willing to put aside his own selfish needs and desires. Anything to ensure that she was well looked after. She had to admire that.
The next few months weren't going to be easy. Living with him under the same roof was going to exquisite torture.
Grace nodded one last time. "I'll see you later," she said. "Maybe get a chance to say goodbye to some of the guests."
"They'll be wondering where we are," he said.
"I know," she replied. "But, I'm sure they'll understand."
It wasn't exactly a goodbye, but when she nodded to him and pushed the door closed, it almost felt like she was closing the door on her new husband, barring him from entry on their wedding day.
She saw his gaze one last time as she pushed the door shut with a soft thud.
Then she leaned back against the door, lifted her head and, drawing in a deep breath, wondered what on earth she'd just done.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Qazim turned away from the closed door to Grace's suite.
What now?
He could go back downstairs and mingle with the guests. But he immediately discarded that idea. There would be too many awkward questions. And he wasn't ready for anything like that.
Qazim walked slowly down the corridor. His footsteps echoed in the marbled coolness, and he realized that he felt utterly alone. He recalled the way Grace had looked at him as she'd close that door. He was sure she'd been tempted to ask him inside.
Almost.
