He felt the chill of something dark. The indelible shadow of his childhood making itself known without warning. His heart clenched with pain but he was practised enough to be able to eject the thought and corresponding emotion as far from his mind as possible, and to continue to subject Zabrina to a steady stare instead. ‘And what about wives?’ he questioned softly. ‘Do they also stray?’
Either she was genuinely shocked by his question or she was a superb actress, for her lips fell open and she frowned.
‘Well, no. She never did.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because men are different.’
‘In other ways than anatomically, you mean?’ he challenged, disproportionately pleased to see the blush which made her cheeks colour so thoroughly.
She glared. ‘That’s not funny. It’s a biological thing, or so my mother always said. I’m not saying that infidelity is necessarily a good idea—more that it’s understandable. Nature’s way of ensuring the human race continues, because men—’
‘I get the idea, Zabrina. There’s no need to spell it out,’ he interrupted drily, taking a final sip of coffee before pushing his cup away. ‘So will your extremely liberal views on fidelity impact on our own marriage?’
She paused. For effect, Roman suspected, more than anything else. Because surely she must have given this subject some consideration in the light of her own experience.
‘This is a duty marriage,’ she said at last. ‘And I don’t have any unrealistic expectations about that side of it. I know that men often get bored when they have been intimate with one woman for any length of time, and that they crave new excitement.’
‘Who the hell told you that?’
‘My mother. She’s a very practical person.’
Roman thought these views cynical rather than practical, but he didn’t say so. ‘I see.’
‘What’s important to me is providing a secure base for the family we both hope to have.’
‘Well, that’s something, at least,’ he said and maybe some of his own cynicism had become apparent because she shot him a quick and rather worried look.
‘You do want a family?’ she verified. ‘I mean, I know we touched on it on the train—’
‘We did a lot of touching on the train, Zabrina.’
‘That’s not funny.’
‘No?’
‘No.’ Her voice was bitter. ‘I wish I could forget that trip.’
‘So do I,’ he said, with more force than he had intended.
‘All I ask...’
He could see her throat constricting and she appeared to be conducting a struggle to find the right words. ‘Don’t upset yourself,’ he said, with a sudden wave of empathy which surprised him. ‘We don’t have to talk about this right now.’
‘But we do. We need to get all these things out of the way. All I ask,’ she continued stolidly, ‘is that you’re discreet—both before, during and after any affair you may choose to have. That you don’t rub my face in it.’
‘This is extraordinary,’ he breathed, raking his fingers back through his shorn hair which, thankfully, was beginning to grow a little. ‘You’re basically giving me carte blanche to be unfaithful?’
She didn’t appear to be listening, for her gaze was locked to the movement of his hand and he found himself remembering the way she had pressed her fingers into his scalp when she’d been coming, crying out something softly in her own language. He wondered if she had been remembering it too. Hell. Why think about that now? He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, thankful that the sudden jerk of his erection was concealed by the snowy fall of the tablecloth. But his thoughts quickly shifted from desire to evaluation. He tried to imagine how other men in his position would react if confronted with the astounding fact that their wife-to-be was prepared to look the other way, if he were ever unfaithful. But her words gave him no heady rush of freedom or anticipation—in fact, his overriding feeling was one of indignation and a slowly simmering anger.
‘Why, Zabrina?’ he demanded. ‘Are you planning to do the same? To take other men as your lovers and expect me to be understanding in turn?’
‘Of course not! If you want the truth, I can’t imagine ever wanting any other man but you.’
He sat back in his chair, surprised by her candour. This wasn’t the first time this particular sentiment had been expressed to him by a woman—yet instead of his usual irritation he found himself ridiculously pleased by her sweet honesty. ‘I see,’ he said, again.
‘Obviously I would prefer our marriage to be monogamous, because I’ve seen the havoc these affairs can wreak. I’ve seen the damage they can inflict on a couple’s relationship.’ She tore off a fragment of croissant and lifted it to her mouth before seeming to change her mind and putting it back down on the plate again. Her eyes were very dark and very direct. ‘And since we’re on the subject. You haven’t told me anything about your own parents.’