want any harm to come to her, and especially not to the baby.
“You okay?” he asked softly. His other hand closed around her wrist, his thumb stroking back and forth, flutters of sensation gliding over her raw nerves. She wished he wouldn’t be like this. She wished he wouldn’t be so gentle, wouldn’t make her feel so safe, even as he prepared to leave her.
Because he was going to leave her, no matter what he said. She’d seen it in his face. He was horrified.
Samir brought a hand to her chin and pushed, making her meet his eyes. His beautiful, impossible, midnight-ocean eyes. “Hey,” he murmured. “Speak to me.”
Through sheer force of will, Laura managed to sound passably calm. “I’m fine. You can… put me down, or whatever.”
His lips tilted slightly. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll keep hold of you.”
She blinked rapidly. And then, in a sparkling display of intelligence, said: “Um. What?”
He settled back against the cushions, drawing her closer to his chest. “This sounds like a conversation that’s going to piss me off. Holding on to you keeps me calm. Please, continue.”
“Con…tinue?”
“Yeah. With the talking. Say something else. Like, I don’t know—I’m married to Daniel, but he died in a mysterious boating accident last week. Like that.”
Ah. Laura gave a heavy sigh. “He’s not dead.”
“That’s a shame.”
She shouldn’t laugh. This was a very serious conversation. But she had to smile a little bit. She couldn’t help it.
“So what you’re telling me,” Samir said, “is that Daniel—the man who won’t take responsibility for his own kid, the man who left you—”
“I left him,” Laura interrupted, because apparently she still had her pride.
“Sorry,” he said wryly. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think that was a smile she heard in his voice. But she couldn’t see, because he was holding her head quite firmly against his chest. She could hear his heart beating, way faster than it should, and feel the rumble of his deep voice. “The man you left,” he amended. “The man you’re fucking terrified of—”
“I—I’m not—” She wanted to say, I’m not terrified of him. But then she remembered she wasn’t supposed to be lying.
After a little pause, Samir said grimly, “Right. Him. That guy. That Daniel. You’re telling me that he’s your husband?”
He was angry, but trying to hide it—or at least tone it down. She felt it anyway, because she felt him, too intense to miss. It almost made her nervous.
And yet, the soothing stroke of his thumb over her arm was so… relaxing. When she managed to choke out, “Yes,” she sounded as if she were trapped halfway between anxiety and exhaustion. Which wasn’t entirely inaccurate. Although the anxiety part was fading with each passing second.
“He married you,” Samir said flatly. “He married you, and promised to love you and cherish you, and then you got pregnant and he…”
“Punched a wall,” she supplied. “And told me to get an abortion.”
She felt every inch of the deep, shaking breath Samir took. When his chest expanded, she felt it. When he heaved out a sigh, she felt it. When his hand, which had been stroking her hair slowly, faltered, she felt it.
And slowly began to understand what it meant.
Finally, he said, “Okay. Okay. So you’re married.” A pause. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“I know,” she said, trying to sit up. “I know—”
“Don’t,” he murmured, pulling her back against his chest. “Stay here. Please.”
“Okay,” she said, as if she were doing him a favour. As if the fact that he apparently needed her wasn’t sweet enough to make her heart sing. His chest hair tickled her cheek, the skin beneath it reassuringly warm, his arms solid around her. The way he held her was impossibly good—as if she could leave, if she wanted, but he really fucking hoped she wouldn’t.
She didn’t.
“I know,” she repeated. “I should have said something. I understand if you—if you can’t…” She couldn’t even say the words.
But Samir had never had a problem filling her silences. “Right. Well, no disrespect to the great institution of marriage, but I really do not give a fuck.”
Laura’s mind blanked. “You don’t?”
She felt his massive shoulders shift as he shrugged. “Marriage is a promise. Yes, it’s a whole legal thing, but the important part is the promise. You make vows for a reason. He broke them. What I do care about is you.” His voice, always so confident, became slower, more careful. “You’ve been here a while now, love. But you’re not divorced.”