Savage Desire (Savage Lagonda 1) (39 page)

"I do not understand, Tajarez, are you saying I am . . ." she searched her mind for the word in the language of the Lagonda. When she could not find it, she lapsed into English. "Do you think me insatiable?"

He laughed and hugged her tightly.
“
I certainly hope so, Mara. Pray that it is so."

Mara looked up at him and laughed. "If I am insatiable, what does that make you?"

He pretended to be serious. "Happy, Mara. That makes me a very happy man."

Weeks passed, but to the two lovers, time had no meaning. Tajarez was learning how to laugh, and how to consider another's happiness above his own. His love ran deep for this girl who was his wife.

Soon the weeks passed into months, and Tajarez realized Mara was with child. He had suspected it for some time, but now he was sure of it. His feelings for her underwent a change. At night he would hold her in his arms while she slept, feeling love wash over him. His hand would stray down to her still flat stomach, and he would be overcome with so many emotions. He tried to imagine what the child would be like, but the only thing that would come to his mind was a baby with white skin. His mind rejected that idea. How could he love a child whose skin was white?

Tajarez eased himself out of bed, taking care not to awaken Mara. The night was chilly. He gently pulled the fur robe over her shoulders and walked outside the tent. His mind was tortured. Soon they would have to return home. He walked down to the pool and sat down beneath a tree, feeling sick inside. He was to be a father, a father to a half-white infant. He remembered Anias's sneering remark when he had taunted Tajarez with the fact that his son, if he married Mara, could be white. He had pushed that thought to the back of his mind, not wanting to consider the possibility. But now the fact might be a reality.

He could have done no differently. If it was all to do over again, he would still have made Mara his wife. Turning his head skyward, he watched as the leaves drifted down and fell into the pond. "Great Father," he said softly, "what am I to do?"

Mara lay under the shade of a tall birch tree, her head resting on Tajarez's lap. She was feeling drowsy. It was two months since they had first come to what Mara now referred to as Eden. The happy days, glorious days, seemed to fly by.

The weather had grown cooler. At night they now slept under a fur robe to keep warm. She felt Tajarez's hand on her face, and opened her eyes.

His handsome brow was furrowed in a frown. He was unaware that she was watching him. It was obvious that he was troubled about something. For the last few days, Mara had the feeling something was bothering him. She had grown so close to him, she could feel his moods. Sometimes she would find him watching her with a strange look on his face, but she could not define that look. She frowned. He had that look on his face now.

Tajarez was looking across the pond to the woods beyond. He must have sensed her scrutiny. Looking down at her, he smiled, but the smile did not reach his eyes. He was plainly distressed by something.

"What were you thinking of, my love," she asked.

He let his hand steal down to her stomach. "I was thinking that we must return to the city tomorrow. The weather is becoming cooler each day, and I do not want you to become ill."

She felt disappointment. She did not want to return to the city. She wished she could stay with Tajarez in their own private Eden for the rest of their lives. She did not want the real world to crash down upon them.

"Must we? I love being here with you."

His hand spread out protectively over her stomach. "We must think of the child you carry."

Mara sat up quickly, her eyes wide with wonder. "I am going to have your child? How do you know this?"

His body shook with laughter as he hugged her tightly to him. "Oh, my beloved. You are such a child in so many ways yourself. Do you know nothing about your own body function?"

She felt stung by his words. "You do not treat me as a child, Tajarez. You must think I am old enough to be a mother, or else I would not now be . . ."

"Beloved, I did not mean to hurt you, and most of the time you are quite grown up. I have known for some time that you carried my child."

She rested her face against his chest. "Are you pleased, Tajarez?"

Raising her face, he kissed her softly. "You are giving me the greatest gift a woman can give a man, except for herself."

Mara looked at him. A look of pure terror washed over her face. "Tajarez, I have to tell you I know nothing about babies. I have never been around one."

He pushed her hair away from her face. "We will learn together, Mara. We will find a woman who will teach you all you need to know."

"I am frightened, Tajarez. Do you think I will make a good mother?"

"I think you will be a wonderful mother to my son."

"Son? What if it is a girl?"

"Then you will be a wonderful mother to my daughter."

Joy spread over Mara's face as the full impact of her condition hit her. "Oh, Tajarez, I am carrying your child, a life that was created by you and me, a part of both of us.

"I know," he said as he cupped her face in his hands. "It is a great responsibility, is it not?"

"Hold me, Tajarez, hold me. Tell me that you love me.

"I love you as I did not know it was possible to love. I awake each morning with you beside me, with a feeling of joy in my heart because you belong to me." His lips covered hers in a soft, gentle kiss. Then he held her to his heart. Neither spoke for a long time.

Tajarez reached for her hand and held it in his. "Look at the difference in us, Mara. What color would you say my skin is?"

She turned his hand over. She loved his hands. They were so strong, yet they could be very gentle. "I would call your skin a bronze color, but . . ."

He interrupted her. "And I would call your skin white, Mara. What will our child be like? Will he have golden hair as you do, or will his eyes be dark like mine? If it is a boy, he will one day be the king of the Seven Cities."

"You are bothered that he will look like me, Tajarez?" she asked.

"It is something I have given much thought to since I learned you carry my child. I would be less than honest if I told you it did not bother me. I will not be pleased if my child has the white skin."

"Is this what has been bothering you the last few days?" she asked, hoping he would deny it.

He did not look at her. "Yes, and I do not know how I will react if the child is born with white skin. How can I know?"

Mara felt crushed. It was as though he was rejecting her unborn baby, and by doing so, rejecting her. "It is something you should have considered before you asked me to be your wife, and certainly before you got me with child," she said.

"I have hurt you, Mara, and I did not intend to, but we have sworn that we would always be truthful with one another."

Mara rose to her feet. "I thank you for your truthfulness, Tajarez. I do not thank you for your deception."

"I have not deceived you, Mara. I would never do that."

"You let me think that you bore no grudge against the race I come from, Tajarez. No matter how much you try to delude yourself, I am white, and nothing you can ever do will change that."

He was on his feet. "Mara, I love you. I would not want you any way except the way you are." He reached for her, but she stepped away from him.

"Do not touch me, Tajarez. I should have been warned when we first met. I saw hate and disgust in your eyes then. I should have known you could not bury the past."

"Mara, do not do this."

"Love means accepting, Tajarez, and no matter how much you say it, you have not accepted me, not deep within your heart. I pity my poor baby. He is innocent in all of this."

"Mara, you will listen to me," he said angrily. It had not been his intention to hurt her, but his rejection of the baby stood between them now like a sharp-bladed knife. "We will work this out together, Mara; I will not have this anger come between us."

Tajarez knew that words once said could not be unsaid, and the doubts about his baby were deep inside him eating away at him. In the back of his mind he had always had a vision of his son standing beside him as he did beside his father, and his father's father before him. Tall and dark. His mind rejected a white-skinned son.

"Do not worry, Tajarez, if you do not like the child when it comes, you can always shut it away in the palace where no one will ever have to see it."

She walked away from him. He wanted to go after her and beg her to understand, but he knew there was nothing he could say that would make any difference at this point, because he did not understand himself. Had she been right? Did some small part of him still resent her because she was white? He could not think of a life without Mara. She was a part of him, and yet he could not entirely accept the fact that his son might have white skin, or the golden hair.

That night, for the first time, Mara did not come into his arms when they lay upon their robe. When he reached for her, she drew herself into a tight little ball and moved as far away from him as it was possible to get and still be in the same bed.

"I love you," he whispered, feeling her coldness like a pain in his heart. He did not press her. He did not know how to repair the damage that had been done today.

The next morning, Mara was silent as they rode home. She answered when Tajarez spoke to her, but she did not talk otherwise. When they reached the palace, she greeted his father with genuine affection, but did not tell him the news of the baby.

It was as though she carried a burden within her, and at the moment, it did not give her joy.

That night at dinner, Hamez noticed that Mara seemed unusually quiet, and his son was silent and moody. Some small lovers' quarrel, he thought. "Tell me, my daughter, are you glad to be home?" he asked, hoping to draw her out of her silence.

"It is wonderful to see you, my father, and I was ready to return."

"Ah, so you missed me, did you? Well, I will tell you that this place was like a tomb with you away. I missed the sound of your laughter and the sight of your beautiful face. It is not very exciting spending so much time with old Sagas. All he seems to want to talk about are the drawings on the wall."

Mara placed her hand over his. "My father, I truly love you, and I believe you also love me, but are you never sorry that your son did not marry from his own race? Are you sorry that he married me?"

Hamez noticed her agitation, and he sensed that his answer was important to her. He stared down the table at his son. "I would have my son marry where he loves, and he loves you, Mara."

"Yes, but I have white skin, my father. I am different from you."

"My eyes see not the color of your skin, Mara, rather they see the person within. Why do you ask?"

She rose quickly and kissed his cheek. "You are truly a wonderful man, and I am proud to know you. Now, if you will excuse me, I will go to bed. I am very weary."

Tajarez rose to his feet and watched her as she rushed from the room.

"What have you done to Mara, my son?" Hamez asked as he walked around the table and stood beside Tajarez.

Tajarez walked away from him and stood at the window staring out at the lights of the city below. "I am afraid I have hurt her without meaning to. I do not know if I can ever make it right with her again."

Hamez crossed the room and stood beside him. "What has occurred?"

"I told her of the doubts I have about the baby."

"Mara is with child?" Hamez asked, his face lighting up with joy.

"Yes, she is with child," Tajarez said dully.

"But this is great news. We must tell the people. We must celebrate." Hamez frowned. "You are not happy with the news. I know, you are afraid that a child will take up most of Mara's time and she will be unable to spend all her time with you. It is only natural that you should feel some jealousy, but I can assure you when you hold your son in your arms, you will forget all about jealousy. He will be of your own flesh. I remember the first time I saw you. I somehow felt immortal, as though I, myself, had been reborn. I knew that through you I would live on, and now I will see your child and live on through him as well."

Tajarez could not fail to recognize the happiness and pride in his father's voice. "Will you not feel the least disappointment if the child should be white, my father?"

"No, why should I? There was a time when I would have objected, but I no longer feel that way. He will be a part of Mara as well as yourself." Hamez's eyes narrowed. He gripped Tajarez by the arm and spun him to face him. "Have you said this to Mara?"

Tajarez nodded. "It was no more than the truth. I do not want my son to be white." His voice was rough, his eyes blazed as he tried to defend what he felt to his father as well as to himself.

"You could not possibly love Mara as you claim to, my son, if you resent any part of her showing up in your child. I cannot believe that you would think such a thing, much less say it to her."

Tajarez moved away from his father. "I know I have hurt her, but I was being honest with her. I had to tell her how I felt."