“Please, just make sure she knows I never intended to hurt her.”
Zayn narrowed his eyes. “Didn’t you? By your own admission, she was madly in love with me. And yet you sent me – Sheikh of Naman, a conservative Kingdom – pictures of Julia in bed, half-naked, with another man. You must have known it would be a death knell to our relationship. How could I, a Sheikh, put up with such a betrayal? So what did you think she’d feel? Overjoyed?” He lowered his head into his hands as the full, sprawling mess laid itself out before him. Julia had been the victim of Andrew’s scheming cruelty, and then of his, and she was the innocent in all of it.
“I hoped she’d transfer her affections to me, and that, yes, I’d make her happy.” Andrew looked guilty. “But it doesn’t matter now. You guys are back together. You’re married and happy. That’s the important thing, right?”
Zayn stood, and fixed Andrew with a glare that would have made a rhinoceros feel small. “Thank you for explaining things to me, Andrew. Please don’t ever contact my wife again.”
And despite what the other man had done to her, he couldn’t help smiling ruefully as he imagined Julia’s outrage when she learned that her husband had just broken up with one of her friends. Because Andrew had been right. Julia, sweet, effervescent, happy-go-lucky Julia, would have found it in her heart to forgive Andrew, despite the damage he’d wrought.
But ultimately, it was all at Zayn’s feet.
If he hadn’t been so proud! If he’d had the courage to call the woman he loved and demand an explanation, it would all have been resolved.
He couldn’t change the past, but he could damned well apologize for it. He’d only got off the flight from Naman a couple of hours earlier, but he wasn’t going to cool his heels in London any longer than he had to.
He leaned forward and commanded his driver to return to the airport. He was going home. He just hoped his wife would hear him out.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Zayn?” Julia froze in the middle of the dining room, her expression impossible to read. She was wearing one of the more formal dresses he’d given her, and it looked heavenly on her petite body. “You look awful,” she observed frankl
y, as she took in his tired looking face, unbrushed hair, and crumpled business shirt.
“Thanks,” he drawled with a curt nod. He placed his briefcase down inside the door, and moved slowly towards her.
Julia, anxious and nervous, stepped backwards. “Amal and Adina are coming for dinner,” she said warningly. “I thought you might be them.”
“Can you cancel? We need to speak.”
Julia’s eyes were haunted. “No. I can’t cancel, even if I wanted to. Adina said she had something important to tell us.”
Zayn honed in on her phrasing. “You don’t want to cancel?”
“No,” she hissed at him, angrily.
“Why not?”
“Where have you been?” Her voice was hollow, her eyes round in her expressive face.
“Trying to get some answers.”
She stared at him, and it was obvious to Zayn she was waging a mental battle. “You mean you weren’t with another woman?”
Zayn would have laughed because it was so ludicrous, except she looked terrified, and he wanted to ease her burden. “Of course I wasn’t. You’re my wife. Why ever would you think…?”
“I distinctly remember you wouldn’t commit to a life of monogamy when we got engaged,” she reminded him now.
“I was not with another woman,” he answered her query directly. “I went to London. I needed to know the truth about those photos.”
“What do you mean?” She asked after a long silence.
“I went to see your friend Lord Cottee,” he said earnestly.
“Andrew?” She swayed a little. “Is it… what did he say?”
Zayn could read this woman like a book. “You suspect what happened that night, don’t you?”
She nodded slowly. “Yes. It’s the only answer. I hardly ever drink, and didn’t really that night. He’s had a terrible history with drugs, and he was pretty out of it at the awards. I always wondered if he’d drugged my drink, or spiked it or something. As you so shrewdly noticed, he does have a bit of a crush on me.”