She wanted to believe he cared.
Annalisa shook her head. She created excuses where there were none. She was out of her depth with Tahir.
In future she’d remember it.
‘This way, please.’ The footman bowed and Annalisa hesitated on the threshold of her suite. For days it had been a haven as she struggled to absorb the implications of her situation.
This period of peace and quiet had been what she’d needed. Sheikha Rihana, Tahir’s mother, had been a daily visitor and, contrary to Annalisa’s fears, she’d remained friendly rather than judgemental. The older woman must know of the obstetrician’s visit yet she hadn’t mentioned it. Did she guess at the fraught relationship between her guest and her son? That it was his child Annalisa carried?
They talked of everything but Tahir, and it felt as if a rapport had developed between them. Something more than good manners and hospitality. As if Rihana was as grateful for Annalisa’s company as she was for Rihana’s.
As for Tahir, after invading Annalisa’s privacy that night, and hinting he’d seduce her, she’d expected to confront him the next morning.
Instead he’d left the capital on urgent business.
Only his personal intervention had saved regional diplomatic talks from foundering. Everyone sang his praises. But Annalisa suspected he’d found it a convenient reason not to face her.
Each day she braced herself to see him but he remained absent.
That told her all she needed to know about the importance of this baby to him. Her importance.
‘Madam?’ The footman waited, his face expressionless. Did he wonder about her presence here? ‘If you’ll follow?’
Annalisa straightened her spine and stepped forward, following obediently down the wide arched corridor.
She couldn’t hide for ever. Especially from her own kin. Yet when news had arrived that her uncle Saleem was here, her stomach had knotted. She’d never liked her aunt’s husband. If there’d been an alternative to staying in his house when she’d arrived in Shafar she’d have taken it.
What did he want?
He’d never approved of her ‘western’ ways. Unlike the rest of the family, his relationship with her and her father had never been good. This couldn’t be a social call.
Her tension increased as they progressed through the palace. Past sumptuous apartments and breathtakingly beautiful courtyards. Each inch was exquisite, from the inlaid floors to the luxurious furnishings and the view over a perfect indigo sea. They reached the public reception rooms where solemn visitors watched her with thinly veiled interest. Anxiety skated up her spine.
At every step she felt like an interloper in a world of privilege, prestige and protocol.
‘Here you are, madam.’ The servant opened gilded double doors. ‘Refreshments have been provided. Please ring the bell if you need anything.’ He stood back so she could enter, then shut the doors with quiet precision.
Saleem stood, feet wide, in the centre of the room. If he was awed by his surroundings he didn’t show it. Instead he stood proud, a tall man, lantern-jawed and swarthy.
‘Hello, Uncle. It’s good of you to visit. My aunt hasn’t come with you?’ Annalisa kept her tone light, despite the chill that enveloped her as he scrutinised her like a beetle under a microscope.
‘I came to see the King.’ He paused on the word, investing it with distaste. ‘I’m told he’s not in, so I asked to see you instead.’
Annalisa stiffened at his bristling disapproval. This wasn’t going to be good.
‘Would you like a seat?’ She gestured towards a group of elegant couches around a low table groaning with delicacies.
‘You make yourself at home here, miss. As if you have every right to do so.’
‘I’m a guest of the Sheikha Rihana. This is her hospitality and I—’
‘Don’t give me that! I wasn’t born yesterday.’
He strode across to loom over her, eyes flashing.
Clasping her hands before her, Annalisa stood her ground. She’d seen him bully her aunt and refused to be cowed. Yet her pulse raced at how vulnerable she felt in face of his fury.
‘You may put that story out for the gullible public but I know why you’re here. You’re his guest, aren’t you? His mistress. His whore!’
Despite her resolve, Annalisa stumbled back, frightened by the violence in his snapping dark eyes and his bunched fists. Her heart thrashed against her ribs and the oxygen rushed from her lungs.
‘I wonder he’s got the gall to install you in the palace for all to see—but then, with his reputation, nothing should surprise me. A fine man you’ve chosen to give yourself to!’