“Is there somewhere private—?”
“Come with me,” he said, taking her by the elbow and leading her from the salon where they’d gathered for predinner drinks.
Ethan looked up and started toward them when he saw Raif begin to lead her away, but she mouthed, “It’s okay,” and he halted in his tracks. A look of concern was still on his face as Raif closed the door behind them.
He led her a few doors down the wide, wood-paneled corridor into a room she recognized as the library. She’d always loved it in here. The high ceiling looked as though it was held up by all the knowledge and stories held in the books that lined the tall shelves on all walls. A padded window seat beckoned the avid reader, who had the choice of reading there or in one of the comfortable, deep armchairs that flanked the large fireplace.
“Private enough for you?” he asked, as he closed the heavy door behind them with a thud.
“Thank you,” she answered, wrapping her arms about her as if she could somehow protect herself from what she had to say.
“Is it true?” he asked.
“Is what true?”
“Don’t play games with me, Shanal. You’re better than that. You know how I feel about family. How important it is to me. Were you or were you not pregnant with my child?”
She couldn’t find the words to tell him the exact truth, and instead just nodded. The instant she did Raif paled, and a look of grief so raw, so painful it tore at her heart, crossed his face.
“Raif, no!” she cried, rushing to him and reaching up to cup his face with her hands. “It’s not what you think.”
He pulled away roughly. “Don’t. Just don’t. You can’t console me on this, Shanal. You made a decision about something that affected both of us without telling me anything. If I hadn’t brought it up tonight, I never would have known, would I? You had no right to do that.”
“But I didn’t do it. Please, you have to believe me. I didn’t go through with the procedure. Burton doesn’t know. I’m still pregnant with your baby.”
“What are you saying? That you didn’t have the...the...” His voice trailed away, as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to even say the word.
“I couldn’t do it.” She couldn’t help shuddering a little at her next thought. “Burton will be furious when he finds out.”
“Burton has nothing to do with this.”
“But he does!” she cried out. “I’m marrying him on Saturday. He doesn’t want your baby in our marriage, and can you blame him for that? Would you want his if the situation was reversed?”
“You’re kidding me, right? You’re comparing me to him?” Raif shook his head. “You really don’t know me at all, do you? If you were marrying me and carrying his baby, I would still do my very best by that child because, no matter what, it would be a part of you first. A child can’t choose its parents, but parents can make all the difference in the life of a child.”
Shanal felt her entire body sag at his words. She had misjudged him and she owed him an apology for that.
“Raif, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”
“Too right you shouldn’t. But that’s got nothing to do with this situation, with us. You can’t marry him, can’t you see that? This baby, our baby,” he said with a wealth of emotion in his voice. “It changes everything.”
She shook her head. She was so dreadfully trapped. She’d promised her father she’d make everything right for him and her mum. She couldn’t let them down now. She couldn’t abandon them.
“I have to marry him, Raif.”
“Have to?”
“You don’t understand,” she cried, her voice breaking as the pressure and responsibility threatened to swamp her like a mud slide rapaciously consuming everything before it.
“Then explain it to me. Tell me why,” he demanded, frustration and anger creeping into his voice.
She wrapped her arms tighter around her body and shook her head, her eyes blurring with tears. She closed them, not wanting to see the confusion and hurt on Raif’s face a second longer. Not wanting to see the questions in his eyes that only she could answer. But they weren’t her answers to give. They were her father’s, and she knew his pride couldn’t take any more. With his health so precarious now, another blow would merely hasten his inevitable death. She couldn’t bear to have that on her conscience.