Angele could not argue that point. Lina and Amir had barely known each other, despite growing up in the same circles.
“I see you do not deny loving me.”
“What would be the point?”
“In the car, you intimated your feelings were not involved with your decision to marry me. It is only natural then to question if they have changed.”
“My feelings for you were not a deciding factor in my decision to marry you. Our child’s future was.”
“Do you still love me?” he asked bluntly.
“Does it matter?”
“I prefer to know.”
He’d been honest with her to this point, she could offer no less. “Yes, but I consider my love a detriment to this situation, if you must know.”
“But of course it is not. Surely our life together will be eased because of it.”
“You think I’ll let you have your way because I love you?” she asked suspiciously.
“I am not that foolish, but it is my hope you will be content in our marriage because of it.”
More likely it would cause her nothing but pain, but admitting that was just one step on the open and honest communication highway, her pride wasn’t about to let her take.
The buzzer sounded and Angele gave Zahir a look meant to maim. “Two guesses who that is and the first one does not count.”
“Dinner,” he said with smug assurance.
She hoped he was right, because she was so not up to playing happy families with her parents right now. She was still annoyed with her father for not giving her a heads-up on Zahir’s plan to publicly court her. Angele had zero doubts Cemal had been in the know on that score, if not a major instigator.
And while her mother had said she’d forgiven Angele for breaking the contract, initially Lou-Belia had been hurt and very angry. They were talking again, but things were still a little stilted between them.
Zahir’s bodyguard answered the summons from the doorman and then dispatched one of the security detail to retrieve their dinner.
One brow raised, Zahir smiled.
“Don’t be so smug. They’ll show up sooner than later.”
“And you do not wish to see them? To share the happy news in person?”
“What part of I don’t want to tell anyone isn’t sticking with you, Zahir?”
He frowned, his eyes dark with disapproval. “It seems to me, you are the one regretting the advent of our child.”
She opened her mouth to reply that of course she regretted becoming pregnant, but snapped it shut again on the words. Words, once spoken, could never be unsaid.
And she would never say such a thing about her baby, no matter the change in circumstances it brought to her life. The truth was, Angele had spent more years believing she would one day marry Zahir than the few months determined not to do so.
It was time to put her big girl panties on and deal with it. She was going to be Princess Angele bin Faruq al Zohra, and one day—God willing far into the future—she would be queen.
“No matter what the complications, I do not regret this baby.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “But I’m not up to presenting pure joy and celebration for my parents’ sake, either. At the very least, I’m fighting a constant battle with nausea and an on-again-off-again vertigo that is truly disturbing.”
He nodded, his handsome face set in lines of concentration. “I have been researching how best to treat morning sickness that has the poor manners not to confine itself to mornings.”
“I’ve tried ginger and soda crackers. It helps a little, but I’m still not holding my food down.”
“There are other options I read about. And according to our family physician, Vitamin B6 apparently helps a large percentage of women who suffer morning sickness.
He also recommends acupressure wristbands used for antinausea as the result of motion sickness.”
“I’m not sure I can hold a vitamin down long enough to do any good.”
“There is also a combination medication that can be administered orally, or in a prepared hypodermic, but it can make you tired.”
While that wouldn’t thrill her, it had to be better than being sick. “I’ll survive.”
“It would make it difficult for you to do your job.”
“Today was my last day.” She’d given a month’s notice soon after confirmation she was pregnant.
Shock widened his eyes. “You’ve already worked out your notice?”
“Yes.”
“I expected argument about the need for you to leave your job.”
“No.” “I see.”
There would have been no point. It would be ridiculous for an editorial assistant to come to work with a bodyguard detail and she wasn’t kidding herself. Angele knew that as soon as Zahir was made aware that she carried his child, security around her was going to be a 24/7 reality.
Besides, once they were married, she’d no doubt they could and would visit the States often, but no way could she continue to live here.
“You reconciled yourself quickly to your changed circumstances,” he mused.
“I had a lot of years to plan what our eventual marriage would require.”
“This is true.” He looked lost in thought for several moments and then asked, “So, you do not refuse to live in Zohra?”
“I only said that for the press release. While I will not pretend to have been raised there, or stifle who I am for the sake of conformity, I love Zohra. But I told you I wouldn’t allow you to be blamed.”
“I was very angry when I read that press release. I do not think I have ever been angrier in all my life.” He said it so dispassionately that it would have been easy to dismiss his words as overkill.
Except for the look in his eyes. The color of molten metal, they shimmered with remembered rage at odds with the rest of his calm exterior. She was beginning to realize that for all her hero worship of the man, she didn’t know Zahir as well as she thought she had.
Seeing even a remnant of that furious reaction shocked her to her core and something told her it shouldn’t. That she should have realized he would never see her defection the way she intended it to be taken.
Regardless, she wasn’t completely buying the story he’d never been so mad. “Not even when you realized your former lover with a seriously questionable reputation was threatening to out your liaison to the press?”
The slightest movement that could have been a wince showed on his features when Angele said the words seriously questionable reputation, but other than that, Zahir didn’t show any further emotion to the words. Certainly he didn’t exhibit that latent anger he had in regard to Angele’s actions.
“You knew it was Elsa?” he asked with just a tinge of surprise. “Your letter was careful not to point fingers.”
“I didn’t know if you still cared for her.” And she hadn’t wanted him hurt any more than he would be by knowledge of the pictures and blackmail itself.
“She’ll never attempt to hurt you again.” The flat truth in his voice didn’t allow Angele to doubt it.
She nodded. “I assumed you neutralized the threat to your good name.”
“My name and reputation