She had betrayed him. Had hidden the truth from him. And that he could never forgive.
‘Why did you not tell me?’ he asked, struggling to control the rage, not just at her deception but at his own stupidity.
Her face lifted. The sheen of tears looked genuine, but he steeled himself against them.
She had deceived him, deliberately. The tears weren’t real.
‘I wanted to wait for the right time,’ she said, her voice faltering. She dropped her chin, to stare at the fingers she was clutching. ‘Last night was…’ Her jaw clenched. ‘Last night was special, I didn’t want to ruin it.’
His heart swelled, but he pushed his fury to the fore.
She had deceived him and manipulated him into telling her things he should never have revealed. He would not make that mistake again.
He could not undo last night—but he could use it to his advantage, something he was more than prepared to do for the sake of his child.
His gaze dropped, to take in the swell of her breasts where the lapels of her robe drooped. The surge of heat was inevitable and familiar—and gloriously uncomplicated—the surge of possessiveness not so much. But still it made sense. His child grew inside her. He had always known he would have to become a father, that he would need to have heirs to ensure a peaceful transition of power within his tribe.
Yes, there was his honour to be considered too now. The urge to protect his honour at the oasis, which had made him demand marriage, an urge he had been determined to dismiss only last night as a knee-jerk reaction to the circumstances of his birth, had become stronger than ever.
He needed to start thinking clearly again. Thinking pragmatically. And make decisions based on the good of his people, his position, not based on weakness or want or the whims of a girl he couldn’t even trust.
The child was the only thing that mattered now… His child and the child he had once been. He would give this child the legacy he had worked for twenty years to create, ever since a small band of Kholadi tribesman had discovered him abandoned and dying in the desert, his shoulder covered in scabs from the enforced tattoo, and had recognised him as one of their own.
He owed his tribe his loyalty and his life. He owed this girl neither.
Tucking a finger under her chin, he lifted her gaze back to his and forced himself to hold onto his fury. And ignored the shiver of sensation that always assailed him when he touched her. This indiscriminate desire would come in useful in the years ahead. But for now he had to ask the only question that mattered.
‘Do you intend to keep the child?’
‘Yes,’ she said, covering her
belly with her clasped hands as if to instinctively protect the babe within from the suggestion of termination.
He nodded, resenting the leap in his chest.
It was not joy or gratitude he felt. Why should he be grateful or joyous when she had chosen to keep the very existence of this child from him?
‘Then we must be married as soon as possible.’
‘No!’ She stepped back, her eyebrows shooting up as if she was surprised by his demand, panic sparking in her eyes. ‘That’s not… I can’t marry you.’
He grasped her arm, the fear that she would run again churning in his gut, but he clung onto his fury, forced himself to loosen his grip. She still appeared fragile and shaky from the bout of nausea. And bullying her had not worked before. Which meant he would have to reason with her. Something that would be a great deal easier if her nearness didn’t fire every one of his senses, and her refusal to accept their situation didn’t make his temper ignite.
‘There is no other option now,’ he said, struggling to bite down not just on his fury but also his resentment. ‘I will not have my child born a bastard, as I was.’ He ground out the words, hating that he was being forced to reveal his feelings again, feelings he wished he had never shared. ‘As the mother of my child, you will become my princess, you will have everything you could ever want, and our child will be heir to the Kholadi principality. Is that not enough?’ He was offering her everything he had. How dared she refuse him?
‘No.’ She tugged her arm loose. ‘Because I won’t have the one thing I want most. A choice.’
It was the same argument she had used before, the argument that he had eventually agreed to last night, after much soul-searching. But the situation was very different now. They weren’t independent people any more. They were parents and they must protect their child.
‘There are no choices now,’ he said. ‘Not for either of us.’
‘I refuse to believe that, there is always a choice,’ she said, the tears spilling over her lids.
These tears were not fake, even he was forced to acknowledge as much despite his resentment.
Her wariness and her regret were replaced by pride and stubbornness in the upward tilt of her chin and the stiff set of her shoulders. She was prepared to fight him on this, and there was something about her bravery and determination that had a tiny kernel of respect blossoming inside him. But he refused to give in to it.
He had given way once before. He would not do so again.