She slackened against the wall. “Then we have a problem.”
“I do not see one.”
Her stomach tightened into a knot. He was too calm, too sure of his own mind, which sent panic rippling along her nerves. “I live in New York, you live here. I’d call that a major problem.”
“Your life in New York is over.”
His will was like an immovable, invisible wall. And still, she tried to bang away at it, because the alternative was unthinkable. “You can’t dictate what my life is, force me to turn it upside down. I’m not one of your minions.”
His gaze became hard, his tone relentlessly resolute. “If you want to be a mother to my child, you do it in Behraat.”
“You’ve got to be...” But no, he was not joking. Lauren’s gut knotted so hard she couldn’t speak for a few seconds. “I don’t see you prepared to give up anything. How about it, Zafir?”
He smiled, the bitterness in it sharp enough to cut her.
She could see the axis of her world tilting, every preconception she’d ever harbored about Zafir crushed by the autocratic man in front of her. There was nothing civil or kind about him anymore.
There was nothing but a chilling frost.
“Can you give the baby the best care by yourself in New York, living in that little dingy studio while working night shifts six days a week? You have no family to help and your friends...other single women who work just as hard as you do.
“Who will watch the baby while you work round-the-clock shifts? Who will help you when you walk in the door barely able to stand on your own feet?”
His words rang with logic, piercing holes in her plans, shredding her armor to pieces. “And if I don’t agree?”
He shrugged and she fisted her hands, filled with the urge to hit him, to do anything to shake that cold mask so strong that it frightened her. “Then you will be free to leave Behraat once you give birth, to your hassle-free life.”
His gaze moved to her midriff, and she hugged herself tighter. “My child will have everything it requires except a mother. And who knows? It’s even possible that it might be better off without its deceitful mother. What is the guarantee that you will be a good one?”
Her shoulders shook, bile rose through her. She swallowed to push it back, to hold back the scream clawing its way up her throat. And yet, he stood there, staring at her, no concern or any other emotion in those golden eyes, the true man behind the stranger she’d known in New York. “You’re doing this to punish me.”
“You decided to leave without giving me a choice, but I’m generous. It’s your choice whether you want to be a part of the baby’s life.”
“That’s not a choice, that’s an ultimatum.”
“No, Lauren. My decision would have been the same had you come to me.” There was a resigned finality to his tone. “Our child would have had two parents who respected each other, trusted each other. You would have had a say in the child’s future. Now, you’re only a glorified babysitter. I will never again trust you.
“How I intend to punish you...”
That voice became molten honey, naked hunger dancing in his gaze as it slowly flitted to her mouth. To her eternal shame, she felt it like an incinerating spark all across her skin.
No, God, no, she screamed inside her head, struggling to control her skittered breath, her tightening cheeks. Hate him, resist him, she begged of herself.
If her body was ever going to let go of the strange hold he had on it, it would be this moment.
Instead, amid the growing panic and helplessness that surged within her, heat and need vied viciously for space. So she latched on to the one thing that perversely grounded her. “You despise me, I see it shining in your eyes.”
He tilted that powerful frame forward and the tips of her breasts grazed his hard chest. Need knotted her nipples and she whimpered. Half entreaty, half retreat. “I can see the loathing for me in your eyes, too.” His hoarse voice caressed the rim of her ear. “But if I run my hand over—”
She slammed her palm over his mouth and then he was whispering into her skin, his words a searing promise. “This time, I’m going to take what I want, Lauren.”
Self-loathing lent her courage she wouldn’t have had otherwise. “An experienced, disposable mistress on the side while you take a biddable, virginal wife and spawn heirs for your great country?”
He laughed, the tendons in his neck stretching with the movement. But something moved in the glittering depths of his eyes. Loathing? Fear? “That would complete your picture of me as a monster and justify your own appalling actions, yes?”