The feel of Zaid next to her, rather than the early morning sun, roused Harper the next morning. She stirred, reaching for the duvet, then remembered it was in a pile on the floor.
Tucking the sheet over her exposed chest, she raised herself onto her elbows and watched Zaid as he slept, catching glimpses of things she had been too preoccupied to notice the night before. His mouth, which had kissed her so fiercely, pleasured her in ways that still made her body tingle, was relaxed, his lips soft. Fine lines creased his eyes, and a bristle of dark stubble shaded his face, giving him the appearance of someone older, someone who had seen too much in too short a time.
There was a darkness in him, one he kept hidden away. She had glimpsed it last night. It had shown itself in the way he had kissed her, the way he had touched her, the way he had filled her, raw and feral and desperate. Yet part of him held back, afraid to let go completely.
Harper disentangled herself from Zaid and eased off the bed, wrapping herself in the discarded duvet.
"Going somewhere?" Zaid asked.
She turned to face him, pulling the duvet more tightly around her. "I need a shower."
He threw off the sheet and stood. Her breath caught, and she held it as she admired his body. Long and lithe, all lean muscle and smooth dark skin. Not that she needed a reminder. His naked body had been permanently etched into her memory. "So do I. I'll join you."
Her mouth went instantly dry. "You said there were no strings."
"There are no strings."
"A shower is a string."
"A shower is a shower," Zaid said. He moved past her, into the bathroom, and paused. "Well? Are you coming?"
She hesitated. Last night had been wonderful. Mind-blowingly, toe-curlingly, bed-breakingly wonderful. But that was last night. This was the morning after. And in her experience, morning afters didn't carry with them the same mind-blowingly, toe-curlingly, bed-breakingly wonderfulness.
"You're thinking too hard again, rohi."
“I don’t want this to get complicated.”
"This has always been complicated," Zaid said.
"It's getting a different kind of complicated. A sex kind of complicated."
He reached out and traced a line down her neck, skimming the palm of his hand over the tender space where the duvet met her breasts. "You would rather go the rest of your life never being truly satisfied?"
She would rather not want him at all. She had watched as her mother had been dragged through life by one desire after another, each one eroding her in its own special way, until there was nothing left. Alcohol had been only one of her mother's dependencies. Men and sex, inferiority and insecurity had been others. They had all danced together in the masochistic tango that had taken her life.
Taken a mother from her daughter.
A soft kick in the stomach interrupted Harper's thoughts, and she frowned, pressing in on her side.
Zaid guided her over to the bed, urging her to sit. "What's wrong?"
Harper shook her head. "It’s nothing. I think the baby’s had a little too much excitement is all." She took his hand and placed it on her stomach. "Here. Wait for it."
He didn't have to wait long. Another flicker of movement fluttered just below the surface.
Zaid froze, invoking the poker face he had perfected over the years. "Does that hurt?"
Harper shook her head. "Not really. Feels weird is all."
He pulled away, carefully stringing the pieces of himself back together. He hadn't felt this shaken in a long time. Not since he was much younger. Not since the last time he was in Gulzar.
He never wanted to feel that way again.
Harper stretched, reaching her arms high over her head. "So what now?" she asked. As was tradition in Gulzar, Zaid had arranged for a week-long celebration to be observed throughout the whole country. "Probably the pregnancy hunger talking, but I’ve got my fingers crossed for a feast."
"Now you rest."
Harper gave a small, dismissive laugh. "I just woke up."
"But you aren't feeling well. You didn't get enough sleep last night."
"I got as much sleep as you did."
"I'm not growing a child in my body."
"I'm just as pregnant today as I was yesterday," Harper countered.
Though somehow that didn't seem possible. Feeling that swirl of movement inside her had made her infinitely more fragile, infinitely more precious, than she had been to him only a day ago. There was a life growing inside her. The only semblance of family he had left. A fact he had known for months, only now it was different somehow. More real. That swift flutter of movement had stirred something inside him, something beyond simply knowing.
It clawed at him, tore at his skin, leaving his weaknesses exposed, stripped as bare as his physical body.
He could not meet with anyone feeling that way, not even to celebrate his marriage. He didn't even trust himself with Alim, the one person with whom he'd always shared everything. He would make a mistake. Show his hand. And he knew better than to reveal that weakness, knew better than to even acknowledge it, not even to his most trusted advisor.
"Yesterday was different," Zaid said. "A bride cannot miss her own wedding."
"But she can miss the food?"
Zaid pulled her to him and kissed her, tugging lightly on her bottom lip as they parted. "I will bring you food," he said. "Anything you want. As much as you want."
His body responded, making it no secret that he was hungry, too. But not for food. The only thing he wanted to entertain his mouth with was Harper. The taste of her, the way she quivered beneath him as he licked and kissed his way down her body. An act she'd reciprocated with an oral expedition of her own.
She gripped his shoulders, letting the duvet fall away, and pressed her body more firmly against his. "Food can wait," she said. "Though now that I think about it, you should probably stay in, too. You didn't get nearly enough sleep last night.”