But she was the one who had started the...horrible discussion.
“I...just...”
The tension in the room became so thick that she couldn’t even breathe, couldn’t even get her thoughts to cohere. Couldn’t understand why she was pushing this when it hurt her just as much as it disgusted him.
Though he stood close enough now to touch her, he very carefully didn’t, which was a lash enough, because, even in anger, he’d always touched her. “If you require these things written in a contract, then there is—”
“No,” she had finally said, finding the very thought of him with another woman bile-inducing. “I want trust. I want respect. I...hate thinking about it like this.”
The hardness had relented in his gaze. “I’ll not begin it by putting threatening terms and conditional clauses, with the assumption that it will fail. I intend for this marriage to last forever. This is the only time we will talk about such things, Lauren. Do you understand?”
Tears that had threatened all week had finally spilled over onto her cheeks.
Relief, shame, fear—too many emotions squeezed her chest tight. But she met his gaze square. “Yes. But if your council doesn’t accept me and they force you to marry a Behraati girl...”
Determination pulsed in his very expression. “They will accept me and you and our child. I left them no other choice.”
And in that moment, Lauren realized how many of his own demons this man had faced, still faced, every day. How honorably he did his duty by those very people who constantly questioned his rule.
The powerful arrogance in his words had unbalanced her, rubbed her raw more times than she could count but it was the only way he knew, the only way he could rule.
It was the only way he had taken what was his. And she understood it just as she understood the sense of isolation around him.
The light behind him outlined his wide shoulders, the leanly sculpted chest clad in dark blue, and tapered waist and those tough, hard legs encased in jeans. Lauren blinked at the swirling possessiveness, the almost atavistic urge that filled her to mark this proud man as hers.
To make sure the world knew that he was hers and hers alone.
One hand on her shoulder, he’d swiped a tear from her cheek. “You didn’t want to have this conversation any more than I did, did you?”
There was no hesitation in her body’s response to him even as her mind sometimes resisted him. She swayed toward him, seeking the cocoon of his embrace. He held her lightly, the warmth of his body a teasing caress.
She sniffled and swallowed her tears. “No.”
Tipping her chin, he’d studied her. Then his frown turned into an outright scowl. “Your phone call with your mother...that’s where this began.”
She shrugged.
“Are they coming to the wedding?”
“No.”
“That’s what upset you?”
“No, I had a feeling that would be their answer.” And she had known.
The disappointment, the loneliness, they were all lessons she had learned after years of silent tears and bitterness but in the end, she had learned to deal with it.
Had poured everything she had into caring for those who could barely afford medical care, to serve people who didn’t call her needy, or emotional.
High school and college graduation, her twenty-first birthday, the day she had received her first job offer...she had done fine without her parents at all the milestones of her life. She would do fine this time, too.
Acknowledging that had always given her a sense of control back and it did now. Forcing a smile, she met Zafir’s gaze. “Let’s just chalk up this episode to hormones, please.”
Instead of being relieved that she was giving him an out, he had frowned. “You hide the fact that she hurt you? Just from me or yourself, too?”
Her spine straightened, a defensive gesture that was coded into her blood. “I’m not hiding anything. And it’s true. It’s the hormones and this huge wedding that have just made me more susceptible.”
“So she’s not only not coming for her daughter’s wedding but she planted all that nonsense in your head, knowing of your condition and that you’re all alone here?”
She nodded, awed at how easily he had surmised the situation. “Something like that. But it’s not her fault, Zafir.” She didn’t even know why she was defending her mom. “She’s always been the pragmatic type—”
“Of course, it is her fault, Lauren. I’m glad she’s not coming to the wedding, or she would have numerous occasions to upset you.
“In fact, I think you should not see her ever again. I will order the state secretary to inform your parents that their invitation to visit Behraat has been rescinded.”