Winter Blockbuster 2012 (40 page)

It gave Rakin a terrible sense of déjà vu.

He had no taste for the hollow victory that lay in a laurel wreath. The time had come to throw everything into it… re-negotiate with whatever it took to get her back.

Drawing a deep breath, he played his ace. “We can try for a baby if that’s what you want.”

The shock in her eyes was unfeigned. “A baby? Of all the things in the world, why suggest that now?”

Her further withdrawal caused him confusion—panic even. He’d been so certain she wanted a child. Shaking his head to clear it, he said, “That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Laurel didn’t respond.

His panic and confusion grew. The reason she’d left was because he’d told her he’d never planned to have children, wasn’t it? He’d been deeply shaken to find her gone. Devastated. But he would never tell her that. Exposing his heart in such a way was a risk he would never take.

Nevertheless he murmured huskily, “I’d like to father your child.”

Instead of opening her arms to him, Laurel wrapped them across her chest and stared at him with accusing eyes. “This is a temporary marriage—based on sex and business. That’s what you said. Remember?”

“I said many foolish things.” He reached forward and stroked her arm, the satin skin soft beneath his touch. How
he longed to touch the other, even softer places he’d discovered. “Men do that when they are afraid.”

“What were you afraid of?”

Rakin dropped his hand.

Dear Allah… what did she want? Blood?
His
blood?

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want.” She glanced away. Sunlight slanted off the sea, and Rakin caught the reflection of silvery tears in her eyes.

“Please don’t cry.” Reaching clumsily for her, he hesitated, then stuck his hands into the pockets of his jeans instead.

“I’m not crying.” But tears spilled onto her cheeks as she turned back to face him, refuting her words. “At least, not really. Not sad tears. If you know what I mean.”

No, she’d lost him. Rakin wondered whether he’d ever understand her. “Then why are you crying?”

She blinked, her eyelashes fluttering. “I’m relieved—thankful. I thought you didn’t want children.”

He’d never had much to do with children, and it was true he’d never wanted any of his own.

“Aren’t you going to ask why I called you?”

Rakin wanted to hold her close, not worry about questions to which he didn’t know the answers. But she was holding her breath, waiting for his reply. He sensed his response was important to her. “What were you calling to tell me?”

“That I’m pregnant.”

“Pregnant?” Rakin felt the blood drain from his face.

She nodded, her eyes wide and expectant. What did she expect him to say? That he was thrilled?

Of course she did. Hadn’t he just told her he’d like to give her a child? Hadn’t she just told him of her fear that he didn’t want children? Rakin closed his eyes, and tipped his head back. Trapped. In a noose of his own making. He
swallowed and found his throat was thick. Now came the moment of truth.

“Rakin, are you all right?”

“I’m sorry.” He opened his eyes. “It’s a shock.”

Her expression changed, became drawn. “You’re not pleased. You didn’t mean that about having a baby, did you? Not really.”

She turned away from him, her shoulders slumping as she walked away with the tired gait of an old woman.

The pain of it made him call out, “Laurel, wait.”

She froze, her shoulders drawn tight.

Coming up fast behind her, Rakin slid his arms around her, linking his hands below her breasts, over her belly where his child lay. Gently, ever so gently, he tugged her around to face him.

“Laurel…” The words dried up.

He stared at her. Frustrated. Hurting. Exposed.

Her shoulders sagged.

How could he say what she wanted to hear when the sentiments were nothing but lies? He wasn’t pleased about the baby. Not now. Not before they’d sorted their own relationship out. He didn’t want her choosing to stay married to him because of the baby.

He wanted her to stay because—

Because he loved her.

This was like a terrible echo from the past. His mother had adored his father, but all his father had wanted had been an heir. History was repeating itself. Except this time, in a reversal of roles, he was the one who loved—and Laurel was the party who wanted a child. He loved her. It was unwelcome. It hurt like hell. He didn’t need this.

All he could think was that, like his mother, he was not loved.

Pain tightened his chest.

He tore his gaze from her face. Rakin didn’t even notice the wave that splashed around his feet, soaking his expensive sneakers as he stared blindly out to sea. The sunlight danced across the water glittering like diamonds. This must be how the sun god had felt pursuing Daphne after Cupid had wreaked his havoc. Unrequited love. His worst nightmare had come true.

Of course, in one of life’s great ironies, his grandparents were going to be delighted.

Laurel was pregnant. He would have an heir. A successor for the business empire he was amassing would be assured.

Yet there was no joy. No stunning delight. Only endless dread.

He would be married to a woman who did not love him. Tied forever to Laurel with the strong, silken bonds of a child. Inescapable. He might has well have been imprisoned in the shape of a tree.

He couldn’t let her go either.

Yet he knew he would never have the happiness he’d glimpsed too briefly in Dahab, the days and nights of pure joy. There would be duty and unfulfilled desire… and that would have to be enough.

He was trapped.

In’shallah
. This was to be his fate.

Laurel didn’t know what was wrong.

She only knew that Rakin had retreated. He’d been brooding ever since they’d come in from the beach half an hour ago. He’d given the interior of the beach house a cursory glance before heading for the comfortable leather chair her father had always occupied in front of the glass doors that looked over the beach.

At first she’d given him time to adjust to the revelation of her pregnancy. From her vantage point on the couch, where she was pretending to page through magazines, she kept sending him little sideways glances, but his mood had not relented.

He was thinking too much. It could not be good.

She’d known he would not be pleased about the baby given the sentiments he’d expressed back in Diyafa. But after he’d offered to give her a baby, she’d felt a lift of hope.

But his reaction had confounded her.

Was he hurting?

Laurel had had enough. She was hurting, too.

“Do you intend never to talk to me again?”

“What?” He gave her a blank look.

“Do you realize that’s the first thing you’ve said to me since we came inside the house?”

“No.” He shook himself and blinked rapidly. “I apologize, I have been rude.”

“This isn’t about good manners.” She’d had enough of social expectations to last her a lifetime. It was ingrained in her family’s genes. “This is about the fact that it hurts me when you wall yourself up behind that mask of self-control.”

He stared at her.

This wasn’t working. Laurel sighed. Perhaps she could shock him enough to drop that polite, urbane mask. “I’m going to need a pair of handcuffs.”

“Handcuffs?”

“Yes. Handcuffs!” Her pent-up frustration was showing. “Sex seems to be the only way I can get you to lose your cool.”

A flush darkened Rakin’s cheeks. “There is no need for handcuffs to do that.”

His murmur had caused her pulse to start to pound. “What do you mean?”

“It’s not sex. It’s you who makes me lose control.”

The words were so soft she only just made them out. Her heart started to hammer. His honesty was more than she could ever have hoped for. Laurel went to sit beside him on the arm of the great chair. “Show me,” she invited.

But the kiss was not raw with passion. Instead he brushed her lips gently with his.

Tender. What did this mean?

Finally he lifted his head and looked down at her. “I am terrified,” he admitted softly.

It was true. There was fear in the depths of his onyx eyes.

“Why?” Then it came to her. This was about the baby. “You’re worried for the baby? I know I’m an older mom, but lots of women wait until their thirties to have families now. I’ll get the best medical care money can buy. It will be fine.”

“No. Not that—my fears are much more selfish.”

“What is it?” Now he was frightening her. “Tell me,” she insisted when she’d had enough of empty, polite silences.

“Despite what I led you to believe, my parents’ marriage was far from perfect. It wasn’t the romance of a lifetime.”

“Is that all?” Relief flooded her and she shifted closer to him. “Well, it turns out that my parents’ marriage must’ve been far from perfect, too. But we’re not our parents, Rakin. We don’t need to repeat their mistakes.”

His eyes locked with hers.

“My father never loved my mother,” he said flatly.

Pain shot through her. He was telling her that he could never love her. He’d told her it was over between them. She’d already accepted that, so why was she letting the wound tear open again? Laurel squared her shoulders. “Even though my mother claims my father loved both her and Angela, I’m finding
it very hard to reconcile my father’s behavior in having a second family with any kind of meaningful love for my mother—it’s certainly not the kind of love I want.”

“But if he made your mother happy—”

“Exactly! And he was a great father. To all of us. And I can never forget that.” With that off her chest, Laurel felt a lot easier. Now she had to come to an understanding with Rakin. One they could both live with. “After the divorce we can work at our relationship—and make sure the baby is well adjusted. We certainly don’t need to keep each other miserable in an empty shell of a marriage. And we will both love the baby.”

Rakin’s gaze drilled into her. Then he said, “It wasn’t only my mother that my father didn’t love. He had high expectations of me. He was proud of me. But he never loved me.”

Her heart melted. “Oh, Rakin—”

“What if I can never love this child?”

The terror was back in his eyes. Her heart ached. This was what he was afraid of?

“I’ve seen your patience with Flynn—”

“That’s different.” He waved her reassurance away.

Laurel persisted. “I saw you pull that boy onto Pasha—the way you gave him what he most dreamed of.”

“Who wouldn’t?”

“A person who didn’t like children.” Laurel wanted to throw her arms around him, hold the little boy in him close. “Believe me, if this is your fear, I assure you it is groundless.”

He shot her a veiled look. “It is not my only fear.”

“So what else do you fear?”

He shook his head.

“Rakin!” Laurel let a little of her exasperation through. “How can I help when you won’t even let me know what you’re thinking? Let go!”

“Letting go is the hardest thing you could ever ask of me.” He drew a deep breath. “All my life I have been raised to be proud. To be restrained. To behave like a member of the royal family. To honor the Abdellah name.”

Laurel couldn’t help making the connection.

“Some men shouldn’t be fathers. Yours may have been one of them.” The uncertainty in Rakin’s eyes caused her heart to contract. “Your treatment of Flynn at the wedding, of the boy who you put up on your horse is different from how your father would’ve responded. You are
not
your father.”

Rakin shook his head. Laurel watched him rise to his feet and walk across the room to stare out the windows overlooking the sea. She sensed he was facing the most important challenge of his life.

And he was terrified.

“I love you.”

The sound of the words was as soft as the whisper of a gull’s wing on the wind. Yet it roared like a tornado through Rakin’s brain. He wheeled around in disbelief.

“What?”

Despite the summery sunshine that streamed in through the windows, she stood with her arms folded protectively around herself, clearly steeling herself for his rejection.

Then she said it again. “I. Love. You.” More slowly for sure, but still the same world-changing words. He hadn’t misheard.

Rakin took a step forward. Then stopped.

Did she mean them?

Or was this obligation speaking… for the sake of their child? He despised himself for the moment of doubt as soon as he saw the sheen of emotion in her eyes. Relief buckled
his knees; then strength and confidence flowed back through him.

She meant it.

Laurel loved him.

And this beautiful woman was so much braver than he. She’d risked all, baring her heart, risking his rejection.

He swallowed. Then demanded, “Say it again.”

The green eyes he adored sparkled at him. “I love you.”

Rakin didn’t wait for a silence to follow. He gathered the strength that her words had given him and, taking a quick breath, he shut his eyes and forced out a whisper. “I love you, too.”

Then, needing to see her reaction, he opened his eyes. Moisture glimmered back at him.

“I’m not going to cry,” she said determinedly.

“No, you’re too happy to cry.”

That wrung a laugh from her.

“I want to get married again,” he said.

Joy blazed in her face. “Yes.”

For a moment Rakin couldn’t absorb it. “You agree?”

She launched herself into his arms. “Of course I agree.”

“So where are we going to be married?” she asked a little worriedly her head resting against his shoulder. “I’d love to be married here with my family present. But it would be a little odd because we’re already married. And wouldn’t your grandparents expect us to be married in Diyafa?”

“I don’t care where we get married—or who attends. The only person I want there is you.” Rakin kissed the top of her soft, sweet scented hair.

“Like when we got married in Las Vegas.”

Leaning back so that he could see her face, he said, “Except this time will be different. This time when we exchange vows I will know you love me. You will know I love you.
That is what this marriage is about—celebrating our love for each other.”