‘It’s not a typical job. We’ll talk when I see you. Face to face is always better.’
But the weeks passed and in the end Maya wasn’t able to visit. First, she fell ill and said she didn’t want Izzy to visit her in Italy, which hurt but had to be accepted. And then in the aftermath she said she didn’t feel either like travelling or entertaining and that had to be accepted too, Izzy conceding that for the very first time her twin was asking for space from her. Maybe it was part of growing up and attaining adult independence, she reasoned worriedly, wondering if she had been coming across as a little too clingy and demanding in the sibling stakes while resolving to let Maya get on with forging her own path.
In the meantime, life went on in Zenara. Izzy was able to satisfy her curiosity about Rafiq’s first marriage as he began talking more freely to her. ‘The guilt after Fadith’s death was the worst burden.’ Rafiq sighed, smoothing long fingers over the firm swell of Izzy’s pregnant stomach as they lay in bed a few weeks later. ‘In truth the marriage was miserable for both of us. Fadith never attained what she most desired...a child or even the status of Queen.’
‘Was that so important to her?’ Izzy queried, running a hand down over his flat, taut stomach to stroke him with tender possessive fingertips and smile as he stretched and groaned half under his breath, loving the effect she could have on him. ‘I mean, I can understand her desire for a child, particularly when the two of you were hoping for an heir to the throne, but I don’t really understand why being Queen was so important.’
‘Because that was why she married me. Status meant a lot to her and her family.’
‘I can’t understand that outlook.’
‘No, but then you’re different, wonderfully different,’ Rafiq growled, rolling her over to pin her beneath him. ‘Fadith never loved me, never wanted me for me. A passionate clandestine romance with one of her brother’s friends before our marriage set that in stone. He died in a car crash and she decided that she’d never love again, which is why she agreed to marry me.’
‘So, she wasn’t a virgin,’ Izzy remarked in surprise.
‘No but she was honest enough to tell me that before I agreed to marry her. I was shocked, out of my depth because I was much more naïve than she was and although virginity isn’t demanded, it is rather taken for granted in a marriage at our level. Girls are sheltered, guarded in our society,’ Rafiq confided. ‘I was more surprised that she had loved someone else.’
‘Oh, dear,’ Izzy whispered reflectively. ‘That was far too much for you to take on at sixteen.’
‘I wasn’t jealous because she felt more like a sister to me than a wife for months after we married,’ Rafiq admitted wryly. ‘That brought problems too. All she ever really seemed to want from me was a baby and, sadly, when she didn’t achieve motherhood she blamed me for it. She was totally convinced that if there was anything wrong with either of us, it had to bemyproblem, my flaw.’
Izzy winced, imagining what that must’ve been like for them both when the expected development failed to materialise over ten long years. ‘For me, babies were always something I knew I wanted but it was also something that was planned for way in the distant future,’ she told him absently. ‘But now that it’s something very much in the present, I’ve adjusted.’
They had moved back to the royal palace outside Hayad and Rafiq had taken up his usual duties, taking her with him on official activities when it was appropriate to do so. After a couple of engagements at schools, Izzy found herself becoming interested in the education system and she agreed to take those visits on. A second ultrasound revealed that she was carrying two girls. She flew over to London twice to visit her family with Rafiq by her side and found her parents and her little brother hale and hearty, her father talking with enthusiasm about some new sales job he had managed to get. The visit, however, had been dominated by Izzy needing to come clean and explain to her family who Rafiq was and that they were married. She told Maya on the phone, where Maya dropped her own marriage bombshell, telling Izzy about a whirlwind romance with her new Italian boss. Something in Maya’s story didn’t quite sit right with Izzy, but Maya deflected her twin’s worried questioning, choosing instead to concentrate on Izzy’s own news.
As her pregnancy advanced, the nausea vanished but Izzy went out less, aside from a short trip back to the UK to spend a weekend with Maya and her new husband and their extended family. The fact was that Izzy was embarrassed by her increasingly cumbersome body. Her beautiful cunningly shaped maternity clothes could only do so much and she still thought she most closely resembled a barrel because a twin pregnancy on her slight frame was enormous. Rafiq might tell her that she was ‘glowing’ but she couldn’t find it within her heart to quite believe his sincerity and when her ankles swelled up unattractively, and even her face began to show the same tendency, the doctors advised more rest and she did exactly as she was told.
Rafiq was wonderfully supportive every step of the way. He did not leave her alone for longer than a night, but she felt increasingly less desirable as her pregnancy progressed and the doctors warned them that, with her rising blood pressure and other symptoms, sex was best taken off the menu until the delivery of their twins was safely accomplished. Rafiq acted as if the bar on the seething passion that had once united them was no great loss and she blamed his easy acceptance on her swollen stomach, assuming that he no longer found her quite so attractive.
No longer, however, did she kid herself about her own feelings. She adored Rafiq and, although it embarrassed her, it was still a struggle to keep her hands off him. He still shared a bed with her every night, and she cherished that intimacy, loving the way he still held her close even when she complained, tongue in cheek, that he made her too warm. While they had still been lovers, she had felt needed by him, necessary,desired. Without that physical connection, she felt bereft, unimportant, insignificant aside of the reality that she was carrying their children.
Did he feel anything for her at all, beyond the reality that his children’s well-being rested on hers? Was her only value to him based on her ability to bring the twins into the world? What about her personally? Was there another dimension to his care of her, beyond that of her pregnancy? Those were the fears that tormented Izzy with every passing day.
She studied the ever-growing collection of her jewellery and picked sapphires to wear over diamonds. Earlier in life it could never have occurred to her that such luxurious choices would one day be hers. But Rafiq’s generosity and frequent gifts had endowed her with a fabulous collection of priceless jewels. She donned a pair of loose flowing pants with a tunic and high heels, reckoning that she would look like a ship in full sail but aware that she had no real choice in the clothes department, having developed a girth that normal garments could not encompass.
Rafiq was always giving her stuff but the superb nursery being put together down the corridor in a previously unused section of the palace was even more telling. She had picked a bright jungle print and primary colours to provide their twins with a stimulating decor. Rafiq had taken an interest in every single choice she made, unashamedly enthralled by the prospect of being a father. His enthusiasm both warmed her heart and hurt her at the same time. If only he could have focused that emotional intensity onher...and why shouldn’t sheaskhim where she stood in his life? What was she so afraid of? If all he cared about was the babies she carried, she had the right to know that and he would probably be honest enough to tell her. So, she wouldask...
She was about to leave her bedroom when a cramp gripped her stomach and she fell still, her hand pressing against her abdomen. When a damp sensation assailed her, she rushed into the bathroom to check herself. Horror gripped her when she saw the bright red blood.
Oh, dear heaven, was she losing her babies? She had believed she was safe this far on in her pregnancy—well, as safe as any woman could ever be in her condition. In a panic, she stabbed the button on the household line that would summon Dr Karim...
CHAPTER TEN
EVERYTHINGTHATHAPPENEDover the next hour was ever after a blur for Izzy.
Dr Karim came running and then she was being swept off in an ambulance, Rafiq hanging onto her hand, as pale as someone of his bronzed complexion could be. He looked like a man in the grip of his worst nightmare and, ridiculously, she wanted to smooth his tumbled black hair from his brow and soothe him.
‘We’re going to deliver the babies now,’ Dr Karim told her gently, after she had been separated from Rafiq and a nurse had helped to undress her and slot her into a hospital gown. ‘But I’m afraid it will be a C-section, because one of the babies has moved into a breech position.’
‘It’s too early!’ Izzy gasped, stricken, frantically worrying about the survival of her twins.
Mr Abbas, the English-speaking consultant obstetrician engaged for her delivery, whom she had already met on several occasions, joined them and answered her.
‘No, it is only a couple of weeks early and we were prepared for this development by your most recent ultrasound. We have every prospect of achieving a safe delivery,’ he declared with immense confidence as she was wheeled into the operating theatre and monitors were attached to her. The epidural was administered without any pain.
Rafiq reappeared by her side, gowned and masked, his lean, darkly handsome features rigid with fierce tension.
‘Mr Abbas...’ Rafiq urged half under his breath. ‘Whatever happens, my wife must come through this procedure safely.Shemust be your first priority.’