But, dammit, she’d wept far too much lately. And all the reasons revolved around him. She snatched her hand from his, ignoring the throbbing in her palm.
‘Think what you like. It’s obvious I’m fighting a losing battle.’ Desperate for him not to witness how much those words hurt she glanced out of the window, saw where the limo had stopped on the palace grounds. ‘Why are we at the clinic?’
‘You just suffered a fall. You don’t think it prudent to check that you and the baby are fine?’ His tone held the same bleakness that lingered in his eyes, laced with a vulnerability Allegra had never heard before.
Her heart cracked but she reminded herself that Rahim was doing this for the baby. Before she could answer, the door opened. Her doctors and nurses swarmed the car.
She was ushered inside the private clinic Rahim had had created for her. A nurse saw to her hand as the doctors consulted in hushed tones. Through it all, Rahim stayed aloof, his expression unreadable as she was prepared for her scan.
The realisation that she hadn’t got through to him shook hard through her. She knew in her bones that the moment the scan was over, he would leave. And she would once again become the broken, pathetic creature who craved him to live.
No.
No more.
She didn’t care what it took. She was taking back her power.
Strolling to the curtain where she would be changing into her gown shortly, she glanced casually over her shoulder. ‘So where will you be heading to this time once this is over? Vietnam or the wilds of Scotland?’
His eyes stayed on the monitor, his folded arms tensing as he shifted on his feet. Somewhere along the line, his bow tie had come free, along with his two top buttons. Allegra forced her gaze away from the strong column of his throat and concentrated on removing the evening gown.
‘The Port of Dar-Aman. Berthing contracts were sold to foreign entities. I’m in the process of buying them all back.’
‘And you need to do that three hundred miles from home?’
‘Yes.’ Simple. Succinct. Cutting.
She got the message. But she was getting angrier by the minute. With herself. With him, for her inability to stem the waves of pain that hurled relentlessly at her.
Taking deep, calming breaths, Allegra met his gaze over the screen, and asked the question she’d been holding to her breast like a precious talisman which might crumble to dust any minute.
‘Why didn’t you tell me your mother died in childbirth?’
Rahim jerked from the wall, his eyes full of warning as he glared at her. ‘Because it wasn’t a subject I felt should be shared with a pregnant woman.’
‘What about your wife?’
His lips pursed. ‘You seem to be spoiling for a fight, habibi.’
‘Since when is wanting to know a few basic facts about the man you’re married to spoiling for a fight?’
He sighed and dragged his hands down his face. ‘You know enough about my parents. Why is this further questioning necessary?’
‘Because we agreed to discuss things before we jump to conclusions, remember? Of course you’d have to actually be here for any discussion to happen.’
Tension tightened his body. ‘You have a palace and every luxury at your disposal. Surely you can’t feel that neglected?’
Anger and pain rearing up like two coiled snakes, she stalked to where he stood. ‘How about you stop second-guessing my feelings and have a frank discussion with me? Or is this something else you want to shelve?’
‘I won’t have a discussion with you about what happened to my mother. What would that achieve?’
Something inside her broke right then. ‘I can’t believe you’d ask me that,’ she whispered raggedly.
A flash of something close to pain tightened his features. Then he looked away.
She was staring at him, wondering what to say, when her team of doctors returned. The nurse sent to help her took over when Allegra’s hands shook too badly to don the clinic gown. On wooden legs, she returned to the ultrasound room and lay on the bed while the gel was spread over her stomach. Over her shoulder, Rahim’s tense presence bore down on her.
‘Since Her Highness was due to come in tomorrow anyway, we’ll make sure everything’s fine first, then take some measurements, Your Highness. It shouldn’t be too long.’
The process took less than ten minutes, but it felt like forever. ‘Everything’s fine with the baby, and with you too, Your Highness.’ The doctor smiled at her.
Allegra heard Rahim’s shaky exhalation and she swallowed the painful lump in her throat, unable to suppress the wish that his relief was for her too, and not just their baby.
Averting her gaze from him, she blinked back threatening tears as another doctor stepped forward. ‘I don’t believe you’ve seen a 3D image of the royal baby yet. Since you’re both here, we thought it would be the perfect time?’
Her breath caught, but before she could agree, Rahim rasped, ‘Will it hurt the baby or my wife?’
‘No, Your Highness. It’s not harmful.’
Rahim must have nodded, because the equipment was swiftly set up and Allegra positioned in place. She felt rather than saw Rahim step closer.
At the first picture of their son, he inhaled sharply. A second later, his hand gripped her shoulder. Her heart flipping up from where it’d fallen to her stomach, she reached up. He meshed his fingers with hers and they watched as the image was rotated to show their healthy, thriving baby.
‘He’s beautiful,’ Rahim murmured.
‘Yes,’ she agreed.
She looked up and his gaze connected with her, the emotion in his eyes naked and raw. They stared at each other until a throat cleared—the medical team was stepping outside.
Rahim’s withdrawal was swift and complete, like a sheet of bracing cold water thrown over her. The roar of pain filled her ears as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and watched Rahim heading for the door.
Allegra jumped up before she could talk herself out of it.
‘Don’t go. Rahim, please don’t go.’
He balled his fists and turned from the door. ‘What the hell do you want from me, Allegra?’
‘For starters, I’d like to feel like I’m not in this alone.’ She laced her fingers together, desperately fighting for the words to make him stay. ‘I told you my parents died. But I didn’t tell you how they died or what my life was like when they were alive.’
He remained silent, and she forced herself to continue.
‘My father was a chronic drug abuser and a mean drunk. He was constantly in and out of rehab. Each time he vowed to my mother it would be the last time, but he’d relapse within days, sometimes within hours. And they fought, all the time. Living with them was like living in a constant war zone.’
Rahim frowned. ‘You’re close to your grandfather. Where was he when this was happening?’
She shrugged, the weight of her childhood drowning her. ‘He was around, and he did everything he could, but even at five I knew there was only so much anyone could do. I was six when I watched my mother get into my father’s car to stop him leaving after he’d been drinking. They were screaming at each other when he drove away. That was the last time I saw either of them alive.’
The teardrop that landed