She drew a slow, fortifying breath, feeling the accustomed weight of responsibility and duty cloak her shoulders. This time it seemed harder than ever to push those shoulders back and stand tall.
It didn’t matter that she’d once had romantic dreams, or that she still yearned with all her secret inner self for Karim’s love. She had his respect and his gratitude. For the moment she had his passion too.
Time to do what she’d had so much practice at doing—bundle up unwanted yearnings and bury them deep, in a dark recess where they’d no longer tease her.
‘Safiyah?’
She spun round. Karim filled the doorway with his broad shoulders and loose-hipped stance. Instantly her insides plunged. The sight of him reinforced her fatal weakness.
Who was she kidding? It wasn’t just duty that kept her in this marriage. She didn’t have the strength to walk away from the man she loved.
‘What is it?’ He crossed the room in a couple of strides, grabbing her hands in his. ‘You look pale as milk.’
‘I’m fine.’ Practice allowed her to stiffen her drooping spine. ‘What are you doing here?’
He frowned down at her, clearly not convinced by her words. ‘I knew you’d planned to ride this morning and I rearranged a meeting so I could ride with you. But you didn’t show.’
Bittersweet regret filled her. She’d have enjoyed riding with him. Enjoyed even more the fact that he’d changed his diary to make time for her.
Because you’ll take any crumbs you can get from him and be grateful, won’t you?
The snarky inner voice hit low and hard, making her press a hand to her churning belly.
Karim looked down. ‘What’s that?’
Safiyah fought the impulse to whip her hand behind her back. She’d barely had time to take in the test result herself. But what was the point? Karim had to know at some point.
Silently she lifted her hand so he could read the result.
‘Pregnant?’
His voice was stretched out of all recognition.
Pregnant!
Karim’s head jerked back as emotion punched him. So much emotion. A jumble of feelings such as he’d never known. Pride. Excitement. Tenderness. Fear.
‘You’re having our child?’ His voice wasn’t his own.
He’d wondered about the possibility, then set the idea aside. But now… Safiyah carried his flesh and blood inside her.
Karim dragged in a rough breath, trying and failing to fill his lungs. He didn’t know how he felt about passing on genes from his unknown father to another generation. About creating a new life. Far better to concentrate on Safiyah.
‘Are you sick?’ His hold tightened on her wrists. She looked pale. No, not just pale. Drawn. ‘Come on. You need to sit down and rest.’
His heart pounded at double speed as he watched her draw a slow breath. But instead of assenting she drew back, pulling out of his hold, putting her hands behind her as if afraid he’d touch her again.
Karim’s stomach dropped. The way she stood there—shoulders back, eyes focussed on a point near his ear—returned him to the early days of their marriage. To a time when Safiyah had been unhappy.
Karim had begun to hope they’d got past that. She’d seemed more content, more at ease with him since the crisis when his illegitimacy had been broadcast. Increasingly he’d basked in Safiyah’s gentle smiles, revelled in her ease with him—not just in bed, but at other times. He’d told himself the marriage was working.
He was taking things slowly, not pushing, content to let her set the pace, knowing that after his earlier mistakes he needed to move cautiously in building their relationship. Even if he chafed for more.
He didn’t expect miracles, and knew he had a lot to make up for, but surely he hadn’t been mistaken? Heknewshe enjoyed being with him. Surely her tenderness hadn’t been a lie.
‘Safiyah?’
The sound of her name seemed to jerk her out of her thoughts and she turned away, preceding him silently from the bathroom. She didn’t stop in their bedroom but kept going to the sitting room, choosing an armchair rather than sitting on the comfortable sofa.