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“Thank you,” she managed weakly, before her lashes fluttered closed and darkness spirited her away.
She woke to sunlight flooding her eyelids and a strong awareness of Jamal sitting beside her bed, his hand clasping hers. She kept her eyes closed for a little longer, savoring the feeling of being safe once again, of no longer being on high alert.
Although the war zone was behind her, she couldn’t help but wonder if she had a new battle on her hands. One that involved her begging her husband to stay with her and work things out.
“You’re awake.”
She opened her eyes and cracked a smile, though her pulse thudded dully in her ears at seeing the dark circles under his eyes, his hollow cheeks and the deep weariness emanating from him.
She swallowed hard. Even at his most vulnerable he was a beautiful male. He probably didn’t look a fraction as bad as she did. She blinked. At least her eye swelling seemed to have gone down. She could see more clearly now. She touched her lip.Ouch.
“You have scrapes and bruises everywhere. Not to mention serious sunburn.” He exhaled roughly. “I had my personal physician examine and treat you while you slept. He said your body will recover fully by the week with lots of R&R.”
She nodded, while her mind sent her horrid flashbacks of Arif holding her down. “I’m sure I’ll be as good as new,” she said drily.
Jamal’s mouth thinned a little. Had he somehow sensed the disturbing images in her mind? Or perhaps he hadn’t yet told her everything?
She blinked. “What else did your physician say?”
“He said that although you had many bruises, you weren’t touched intimately.”
She gaped. “You had your doctor examine me down there?”
Jamal frown. “Of course. I had to know how hurt you were and how far Arif had gone—“
“In case you needed to dump me faster than a hot coal?” she interrupted bitterly.
He flinched, the color draining from his face. And though his eyes held hers, his distress was all too clear. “No, so that I could run further tests and organize a counsellor to help you get through your ordeal.”
“Why would you do that?”
“You’re my wife, angel.”
“Let’s be honest,” she said bitterly. “All you want from me—all you ever wanted—was for me to give you children.”
“Yasmine, no. I—“
“You said it yourself.” And the pain of that knowledge hurt far more than her recent physical and mental trauma. Who knew a broken heart could hurt so damn much? “You want me to give you children so that they share our royal bloodline.”
He shook his head. “If that was true and your lineage was all I wanted we wouldn’t be married now.”
A rush of foreboding swept through her, her voice sharp. “What exactly do you mean by that?”
He sighed heavily. “Forget I said anything. You need to rest. The doctor will be here again soon.”
“I won’t rest until you tell me the truth.” She held his eyes. “Please. I don’t want any more lies between us.”
He gently brushed back her hair, like she was breakable porcelain. “Neither do I, angel. But we’ll speak once you’re feeling better.”
She shook her head as an inkling of an idea formed inside her muzzy head, taunting her with its unlikelihood as well as its possibility. “No.” Her vision misted. “I need to know now.” She clasped his hand. “Is Sheikh Zameer my biological father?”
Jamal squeezed his eyes shut, as though shutting her out would also shut down the truth.
“He’s not, is he?” she asked flatly.
“Zameer is infertile and unable to produce children,” Jamal conceded gently.
Shock made her want to sit up and demand a thousand answers, but fatigue was also rolling through her in waves, the effort of talking using up the last of her strength. “Then who is my father?”
