you on birth control?” he asked, his tone sharper than he’d intended.
She blinked at him, her expression confused. And then it cleared. Horror was not the emotion he’d hoped to see. She sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees, her skin still flushed from sex and dripping with water from the pool.
“I am, but I haven’t had a pill in two days now. All my things were in the camp…”
Zafir swore.
“It’s the wrong time of the month, though. I’m sure of it.”
“If there is a baby, I want to know,” he ordered. “I will provide for him, never fear, so there is no need to terminate the pregnancy.”
Her lovely face clouded. When it cleared, anger was the dominant emotion. “Of course I would tell you, Zafir. What kind of person do you think I am?”
He thought of Layla, of her deception, and his jaw tightened. “You are a professional woman. Perhaps you would decide that a baby was too much of a burden for you.”
“It wouldn’t be easy, I grant you. But if there were a child, it would be ours. And I would want it.”
She looked so fierce that he believed her. The relief winding through him was stronger than he would have believed possible. And he felt a sudden need to explain, to share with her what he’d never told anyone else.
“My second wife aborted our child. She did not tell me she was pregnant.”
Genie’s eyes widened. “I’m so sorry, Zafir. You must have been very upset.”
“I was. Layla felt she was too young to start a family, though she failed to share this belief with me.”
She had also been worried about her figure, her shopping trips abroad, and her social events, where she was determined to be the most elegant hostess anyone in Bah’shar had ever seen. When she’d gone to Europe for the abortion he’d thought she was going on another shopping trip. He’d only found out because she’d been stupid enough to use a credit card and he’d opened the bill before she could intercept it. The moment when he’d realized what the charge was for had been like a sucker punch to the gut.
Genie put her arms around him and squeezed. He fell back on the cushions with her, his heart hammering with fear, and turned his head toward her, breathed in the sweet, clean scent of her hair.
She smelled like home, felt like home. He could think of nothing better than watching her grow big with his child. Nothing better than having her in his bed every night.
“I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about,” she said softly, “but if I’m wrong, this is your child too. We’ll figure out what comes next when we have to.”
“Yes, we’ll figure it out,” he replied on a sigh of weariness. It had been a long, long day.
He closed his eyes. What he needed right now was sleep. And he needed to be here with this woman.
It felt right.
He was drifting off when she whispered in his ear, “Sleep, Zafir.”
She said something else, but he wasn’t quite certain what it was.
Right before he fell asleep, he realized what it had sounded like: I love you.
Sometime in the night they got chilled and moved into the bedroom, burrowing beneath the thick covers on the bed. Genie lay in the dark, listening to Zafir’s deep breathing. She was in so much trouble here. In two days’ time her life had been turned inside out by the past she’d tried to forget.
She still loved him, and she couldn’t deny it. And, though she really didn’t believe she could fall pregnant, the slight chance had her mind working overtime. What would happen if she had his baby?
He’d said he would provide for their child. But he wasn’t going to offer to marry her. He was the King of Bah’shar and he could never do so.
But would he be a part of their child’s life? Or would he, like her father, be absent and distant?
Genie didn’t believe Zafir would ignore their child on purpose. He would not be like her father. But his royal duties and his future wife—because, yes, a king needed legitimate heirs—would most likely keep him away.
Genie shifted in the bed, trying to shove her tumultuous thoughts away. There was nothing to worry about yet. She would cross that bridge when she reached it.
“Can’t sleep?”
“Not well,” she admitted. “You?”
“I was sleeping fine, but you kept moving.”
“Sorry.”
She heard him yawn. “You are worried about being pregnant?”
“I was thinking about it, yes. But I don’t really believe it will happen.”
“You will not have to worry, Genie.”
“No, but I think I’ll have to worry every day of my life if there’s a child. That’s just what mothers do.” She turned toward him on the bed, propped herself on an elbow. “I’m sorry about what happened with your second wife, Zafir.”
“It was a long time ago.”
She bit her lip, decided to proceed. “What happened in your first marriage?”
Zafir did not pretend to misunderstand what she was asking him. He let out a deep sigh. “Jasmin had difficulty conceiving. When she did conceive, she couldn’t carry past the first trimester.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“There were three miscarriages. She was depressed, though I did not realize it, and she swallowed pills. It is my fault she died. I should have forced her into treatment.”
Sadness ripped through her. “How could you know she would do such a thing?”
“I should have known. She was impulsive, and she made threats. I didn’t take her seriously until I came home late and found her unconscious.” He sighed into the darkness. “I wasn’t supposed to be late that day. I think she wanted to be found, that it was a cry for help. But I failed her.”
My God. Genie’s eyes filled with tears. How could he take such a burden on himself? But she already knew the answer: he was a good man who took his duty seriously, be it the duty of a king or a husband. Or even a lover.
“If there’s one thing I learned growing up,” she said very softly, “it’s that we aren’t responsible for the actions of others. My mother and I both suffered because she wouldn’t—or couldn’t—get herself out of the situation with my father, but that wasn’t my fault. It took me a long time to understand that.”
“I knew Jasmin was unstable. I should have realized she would eventually go through with her threats.”
Genie grasped his hand in hers. It was big, warm, and he squeezed his fingers closed around her hand. The grip was firm, reassuring, but not too hard. A wave of love and longing rocked through her.
“No one is to blame but her, Zafir. I’m sorry if that sounds harsh, but she is responsible for making that choice, not you.”
“If I’d been home when expected—”
“You could have stopped her that time, but what about the next? Maybe she could have been helped with treatment, but there are no guarantees. You’re wrong to blame yourself.”
He pulled her hand to his lips. “You have grown wise, Dr. Gray. Thank you for your words, though I am certain I will always feel guilty about what happened.”
“That’s your right, Zafir.” It made her sad that he would take so much on himself, and sad for his poor wife. It also made her feel badly for resenting Jasmin for so long. She’d been caught up in the marital politics of her