‘You will. I am the Commander of this fortress and my word here is law.’
‘But I’m not—’
‘Tell me, Miss Dean, what exactly did you expect by coming here?’
Ivy bit down on her irritation. It probably wasn’t wise to challenge him, no matter how much she wanted to.
‘I’m simply here to inform you that you will have a child in approximately six months, and to discuss options for its care.’ She hoped she sounded calm. ‘As I told you, I don’t have the means to care for a child, not financially. I offered to be Connie’s surrogate on the understanding that she would then take the child after he or she was born. I didn’t envisage...’ She stopped, a strange feeling constricting inside her, part grief and part an aching fear that she didn’t quite understand. ‘What I mean to say is that the child isn’t mine. Or at least, I don’t view it as such. It’s always been Connie’s.’
‘Not genetically,’ he pointed out.
‘No, I know that. But still.’ She swallowed and met his gaze squarely. ‘A child should always be wanted.’
‘And you do not want the child?’ The question was utterly neutral.
The strange feeling inside her clutched harder. She ignored it. ‘As I said, this child isn’t mine. He’s Connie’s.’
The Sheikh’s knife-bright gaze intensified all of a sudden. ‘He?’
A little pulse of shock went through Ivy. That had been a slip. She’d deliberatelynotthought about the child she was carrying other than in the most basic way. She hadn’t thought of names or what they would look like, or whether they’d be a boy or a girl.
It was Connie’s place to do that, not hers.
But Connie is gone. And the child has no one else.
Ivy realised her hand had crept to her stomach again, resting there as if protecting the child from her own thoughts.
‘He, she, I’m not sure which yet,’ she said, trying to cover her lapse.
But the Sheikh didn’t let her escape that easily. ‘You think it’s a boy, though.’
‘It doesn’t matter what I think.’ Ivy tried to sound dismissive. ‘What matters is what you would like to do as the child’s father.’
The Sheikh’s gaze ran over her, suddenly very intense, making her breath catch and foreboding twist hard in her gut.
‘You said you didn’t want a family,’ he said almost thoughtfully. ‘Why is that?’
Ivy blinked at the change of subject. ‘That’s really none of your business.’
He lifted one black brow. ‘Is it not? You’re pregnant with my child, which makes this very much my business.’
The words ‘pregnant with my child’ made her feel warm, her cheeks heating. How ridiculous to blush about something like that, especially when it wasn’t what it sounded like and they both knew it.
Anyway, it seemed clear that this man probably wasn’t going to be interested in caring for the child. Her quest had been a futile one.
What did you expect? That he’d offer to bring up the child? So you could offload the baby like an unwanted parcel?
The strange feeling intensified inside her, becoming an ache.
She hadn’t thought about what would happen after the birth. Deliberately not thought about it, because the reality of bringing up a child she’d never expected to have was too frightening. Too confronting. She had no financial means. No family support. Yes, she managed the kids at the home, but she viewed herself as their teacher and carer, not their mother. She didn’t know how to be a mother, not when she’d never had one of her own.
No, she would be totally alone.
Besides, how could she when managing the home took up so much of her time? How could she give a child the attention it needed and deserved when she had so many other deserving children to watch over?
Don’t think about it. One step at a time.
Ivy forced away the steadily rising panic, slipping off the camp bed and getting to her feet. ‘It’s clearly not business you’re interested in, however,’ she said with icy calm. ‘A fortress full of men commanded by a warlord is hardly the place for a child anyway. Thank you for taking the time to see me. If you could spare me someone to take me back to Mahassa that would be appreciated.’