He’d have to take Jalila’s word for it, he thought as he wove through the guests. He hadn’t been looking at Delphi’s face. He’d been too busy watching the way her hand had moved to curve protectively over her belly.
The corridor was empty.
He turned, caught a glimpse of gold.
‘Delphi!’
Like Cinderella fleeing the ball, she gathered up her skirts and ran. But no woman wearing a floor-length dress and heels could outrun a man. Particularly not a man like him, who had a burning question that needed answering.
He caught her arm as she reached the gardens, his hand clamping around her waist, stopping her in her tracks.
‘Let go of me.’
He tightened his grip. ‘Not until you tell me the truth. Are you pregnant?’
She squirmed against him, but her strength was no match for his.
Capturing her chin, he tilted her face up to his. ‘Tell me.’
Her eyes were as huge and dark as the baby’s, her face pale with shock and pain as she jerked free.
‘No. I’m not.’ She sounded as if it hurt her to speak. ‘But I was. I had a miscarriage.’