A Secret Birthright - By Olivia Gates Page 0,59

me dread him so much I…”

He waved away her explanations. “You had every right to expect the worst. I myself can’t believe what happened still, am wondering if he’s biding his time until he can pull something.”

“I know he won’t. But I wanted to be the one to tell you the whole truth, and…I left it too late.”

The weight of his gaze increased. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She’d probably lose everything answering him. She probably had already. But whatever happened, she owed him a full confession. “I believed I’d just pass through your life, and I’d be risking losing Ryan by revealing my weaker claim to him, weaker than yours, let alone your father’s. I did trust you, but I thought if you knew, your father eventually would. But I should have told you. You married me because I didn’t. I was still hoping that my adoption would come through and the marriage would serve its purpose. But we now know Ryan will be safe, so the marriage no longer serves any purpose. Now you can…end it.”

His eyes had been flaring and subsiding like fanned coals. Now they went almost black. “I gave you the essmuh.”

“Then…take it back.”

“It doesn’t work that way. Only you can end it now.”

So this was it. Moment of truth. He would have never chosen to be her husband. But he would remain in this non-marriage for Ryan’s sake or if she didn’t release him.

“H-how do I do that?”

“You just tell me. The rest is just paperwork. It’s the words, the intention, that are binding.”

She looked at him. The only man she’d ever or would ever love. She’d be forever empty when he left her life. But she’d be destroyed if she clung to him when he didn’t reciprocate.

And she let go. “I…end it.”

Gwen closed Ryan’s nursery door lost in dark musings.

Would he miss her if she left? Did he even need her anymore? Now that he had Fareed, his grandfather and an extensive family to love and cherish him? Or was she the one who needed him? He who was everything she had left to live for?

Fareed was probably realizing this now. That her role in Ryan’s life had been as temporary as it had been in his. She’d protected him until she’d delivered him into the hands of those capable of giving him the love and life he deserved.

But knowing Fareed, out of kindness, he wouldn’t say anything. He hadn’t said anything as she’d given him back his freedom. But he must have welcomed it. Chivalry and honor aside, he’d probably welcome her disappearance from his life completely, would prefer not to have her in it through their connection to Ryan.

She approached the bedroom he’d given her. The one farthest from his. She’d hoped he’d cut her off from his passion because he’d thought she was his brother’s woman, that when she confessed, his desire would be reignited.

But it had just been extinguished. The bad taste of her duplicity, however he mentally rationalized and accepted it, must have put out the lust that would have burned itself out sooner rather than later.

God, what was she still doing here? He no longer wanted her. Ryan no longer needed her. She had to go away now. She’d solve all their problems this way. She’d unburden Fareed of her presence, and Ryan was too young, he’d forget her in a month.

As for her, she might be less miserable without them, than with them and unwanted and unneeded. She might even survive.

She wouldn’t if she stayed.

She opened the door, hesitated on the threshold.

What was she doing here anyway? She didn’t need to gather her stuff. It wasn’t hers in the first place. Nothing here had ever been hers.

She’d leave like she’d come, with nothing.

And this time, Fareed wouldn’t come running to stop her. He’d stand by and would be relieved to see her go. He might even help…

“Do you know what I wanted to do when I saw you standing on that podium?”

Goose bumps stormed through her. The deep purr, like a coiled predator’s, issued from the bed.

Fareed.

She grabbed at the light switch, her hand hitting and missing it many times before soft, indirect light illuminated him.

He was wearing an abaya again, both it and the loose pants beneath, white and gold trimmed this time. His hair gleamed wet and sooty from a shower, his skin glowed with the same bronze of the headboard he was propped against, with his legs stretched out almost to the end of