The breath hissed from his lungs on a sigh of frustration, and for a moment, a very brief but telling moment, Evie saw indecision flash across his eyes before he turned his back on her.
'Nothing,' he said.
But it was already too late; Evie had seen that indecision, and panic was suddenly erupting inside her. Climbing off the bed, she walked towards him. Her hand was trembling as she gripped his arm. 'Don't lie to me,' she thrust at him angrily. 'Don't ever lie to me! There is something going on here that you aren't telling me, and I want to know just what it is!'
The muscles beneath her gripping fingers bunched, his lean dark profile clenching on the power of whatever it was he was trying hard to suppress here. Evie watched and waited, his tension becoming her tension, the war he was having with himself becoming her war until the prolonged silence began to buzz like an alarm bell vibrating along tautly stretched nerve-ends. Then he turned his head, saw her strained pallor, the anxiety that was darkening her eyes, and on a soft curse he surrendered.
'Okay,' he said, taking hold of her hand to grimly lead her back to the bed. Sitting her down there, he then looked around him for a chair and set it so that he could seat himself right in front of her. 'I was going to leave this as long as I could before telling you,' he admitted. 'But I can see that what you're thinking is possibly worse than reality. So .. .'
Leaning forward to take hold of her hands, he announced very gently, 'I am taking you home, Evie. To Behran .. .'
Behran, Evie's mind went up like a volcano, shock, horror, a bone-chilling sense of trepidation all straightening her spine on a constricted gasp of dismay.
'You have nothing to fear,' Raschid quickly assured her, ‘you think I would be doing this if I believed it would you in danger?'
No, she didn't think that, but it didn't alter the fact that the very idea of going to his homeland was filling her with horror. Yet she should have seen this coming! Why hadn't she seen it coming? She had just married this man! She was now the wife of the future ruler of Behran! She carried his child inside her-maybe the next ruler of Behran after Raschid!
'Why?' she managed to breathe out frailly.
'Because this visit is necessary,' he replied. 'To have avoided taking you home directly after our marriage would have given rise to the suggestion that I am ashamed of my western wife.' He was talking pride here, defiance in the face of any dissension.
'Wh-what is this going to mean?' she asked, forcing the words past all the horrors that were trying to possess her. 'Will I have to face them the moment we get off the plane?'
'No.' His fingers were squeezing hers tightly, urging her to trust what he was telling her. 'We will transfer from the plane to a helicopter at the airport,' he explained, 'then fly directly to my private palace. The news will spread quickly enough that we are there together, and thereby lay to rest any suspicion that I am reluctant to bring you home. But you need see no one,' he promised. 'We will, in effect, be on our honeymoon, which will give you the chance to acquaint yourself with my way of life before we have to present ourselves officially as a couple.'
He meant to his father, though he was careful not to make the dreaded connection out loud. Aware of his eyes still fixed intently on her, that he was tense, worried, and unsure as to how she was going to respond to this challenge he was setting before her, Evie lowered her eyes to their hands where they rested on her silk-covered lap, and tried desperately to pull her ragged senses together.
Raschid was a man of two cultures. He was used to slipping in and out of two different guises depending on which part of the world he was in. But she wasn't. In all the time they had been together it had never once occurred to him to invite her to his homeland. She hadn't even been invited to any of the functions Raschid had attended at his own embassy. For two long years she had not existed, as far as his people were concerned.
A few weeks ago they had certainly acknowledged her, by declaring her an enemy. Or, to be more precise, her baby was the enemy. She shivered, recalling that memory, recalling too what had happened after it. Raschid felt that shiver and understood exactly what was causing it.
'Look at me, Evie!' he commanded. 'Look into my eyes and see what you always see written there!'
Blinking herself into focus, she found herself staring at strong brown fingers tightly interlaced with delicate white ones like a love knot that was too intricate to break. And there, nestling amongst this mingling of brown and white, was a gold-crested wedding band that seemed to be telling, her that this was it. The moment when she finally took on board what it really meant to be joined to this very special man. You stand proudly beside him, and boldly take them all on or why are you here at all? And really, she told herself, she could have no argument with it. She had married him for good or bad. If the good was in looking forward to spending the rest of her life with him, then the bad had to be where they were going to live out that life.
Then she made herself look into those dark gold, passionately glowing eyes. Made herself see what he was insisting she see. Made herself acknowledge it. I love you those eyes were telling her. You are my heart, my life my soul! I would lay down my own life before I would let anyone get close enough to hurt you again!
'Will I have to cloak and veil myself?' she asked. 'And make sure I walk two paces behind you?'
It took a moment-more than a moment-for what she was actually saying here to finally sink in. But when it came his reaction took her breath away. The husky growl of exultation he emitted was all the warning she received before she found herself flat on her back with him lying on top of her.
'I knew you were brave,' he uttered proudly. 'I knew you were the
right woman for me!'
'I should really be telling you to go to hell,' she said. 'Get my own back on you for the way you refused to listen to reason about Julian's wedding. But you like to pick your moments, don't you?' she sighed. 'Nowhere for me to run,' she dryly pointed out as her eyes made a rueful scan of their present surroundings. 'Nowhere for me to--'
His mouth stopped the words of complaint with a kiss that was both hot and possessive. But before Evie could turn it into something much more satisfying he was, frustratingly, breaking them apart again.
'No.' He refused her yet again. Only, this time Evie was not offended but challenged.
'I'll break that iron will of yours,' she vowed as he made quickly for the door. 'I will whittle away at it at every opportunity I'm offered.'
'Part of my penance,' he accepted with a sigh. 'It will be interesting to discover how long I can hold out.'
Or how long I can maintain this brave face, Evie mused heavily when he had left her.
His father ...