Unknown Royal Baby

Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

I N THE END it was easier the next day to agree to the paternity test than fight it.

Because despite her anger and her hurt that Isam refused to believe her, Avril knew Maryam deserved to have proof of her paternity. Especially since he seemed determined to deny it. Plus it required only a simple cheek swab, no needles.

But what really convinced Avril was the visitor who arrived that morning. A grey-haired woman with one of the kindest smiles she’d ever seen. She said she’d been hired through an agency to provide any assistance Avril required, cooking, cleaning, shopping or helping with the baby.

Avril was in the process of sending her away, hating Isam’s presumption that she couldn’t manage, when her visitor’s wide smile dimmed. She confessed she was finding her recent retirement boring and had leapt at the chance to put her skills to use. She missed being around people, especially babies.

Somehow Avril ended up with a sheaf of recommendations in her hand and a résumé that indicated Bethany had been an early childhood educator before retiring.

A couple of phone calls later, Avril had reassured herself the woman was genuine. By which time Bethany had brought her a mug of tea and a slice of the home-made fruitcake she’d brought. The rich flavour was so like that of Cilla’s home baking, it had Avril blinking back tears.

By the end of the day, which included a nap from which Avril woke feeling more refreshed than she had in ages, Avril and Bethany had bonded. The older woman wasn’t bossy or judgemental. She had an easy confidence around Maryam and a caring nature. Her reassurance that Avril was doing well, adapting to a new baby, even eased some of her niggling anxiety.

Isam might not want to take an active role in his daughter’s life, but something good had come out of his guilt. Avril would accept Bethany’s assistance while she could.

She suspected she and Maryam would thrive with the older woman’s assistance, which was important. Especially as Avril needed to start looking for a new job. She had money to tide her over for a while after she left her current position, but the sooner she started looking, the better.

She had so much on her mind she could almost have ignored the fact that Isam didn’t contact her that day.

When she’d told him to leave the night before he’d surveyed her for what seemed an age, then turned and walked out into the night, leaving her stricken and trembling with an excess of emotion.

Avril hadn’t believed he’d go so easily. But he’d probably been desperate to escape the complications she and Maryam represented. She had no idea how children born outside marriage were treated in his country, but suspected a monarch fathering a child by a foreigner wouldn’t be generally approved. Royals were cautious about bloodlines and as a new king he’d be particularly eager to avoid scandal.

Maybe he was planning a dynastic marriage. Probably she and her daughter were an inconvenient embarrassment.

She got through the rest of the day trying and failing not to think about the man with the piercing eyes and tight, angular features that made her wonder how much he’d suffered after that crash.

But the night after Bethany arrived, Avril slept long and deep, and for once Maryam wasn’t as restless as usual.

Yet when Avril woke, it was to realise she’d dreamt of Isam. Not the rigid man who’d retreated from his child, then left without a backward glance. But the man she’d fallen more than a little in love with last year. The man who embodied an irresistible combination of tenderness and masculine power. Her skin was damp and there was a twisting ache deep in her pelvis as she shoved the bedclothes back and got up.

Later that day Avril was updating her résumé while Bethany looked after Maryam upstairs, when the doorbell rang.

Isam stood tall and imposing but she noticed the dark shadows in his eyes and tension—or was it pain?—grooved around his mouth.

Avril refused to worry about him. He had a kingdom full of people to do that. Instead she folded her arms and stood her ground. ‘What brings you back? We’ve nothing more to say.’

Someone would send the results of the test, and Avril had decided to accept his guilt gift of temporary mother’s help.

His jaw clenched but his tone was disarmingly gentle as he said, ‘I’m sorry you feel that way, but we have to talk. For Maryam’s sake as much as anything else.’

For a minute longer Avril stood unmoving before reluctantly stepping aside. He was right. For Maryam’s sake they had to set some parameters for the future.

She led the way into the front room, feeling the atmosphere change from slightly cluttered comfort to sparking awareness as he followed her in. Once again they sat opposite each other.

‘The test result is in.’

‘So quickly?’ She shook her head. ‘Of course, being royal you could pull strings. And so? If you’re going to tell me it proved you’re Maryam’s father, don’t bother. I already know. I was a virgin before we got together.’

Something flared in the gunmetal grey of his eyes. It looked like surprise. Yet her innocence must have been obvious to him that night. She’d been enthusiastic but not adept.

‘I’ll have a copy of that report please.’ She held her hand out. ‘I want Maryam to have proof, since you’re so keen on denying her.’

‘Denying her?’

How could he deny his own child? Why would he even want to? He knew how precious life was and how easily it could be snatched away.

Isam’s chest tightened at the thought of anything happening to his tiny daughter. When he’d held her he’d felt a rush of emotion so powerful it had strained his self-control to relinquish her into the cot and walk away.

One look and he’d suspected her identity. Even the shock of that suspicion hadn’t diminished his sense of wonder.

The feel of her in his arms, the way she looked, even that clean baby smell, forcefully reminded him of holding Nur all those years ago. The uprush of emotion had almost cracked his composure. But years of training as Crown Prince had come to his aid, enabling him to hide his wonder, excitement and yearning. And the grief that welled at the memory of Nur.

Suddenly, he had family once more. His mother had died when Nur was born. So when his sister, and more recently his father died, there was only him.

He’d been grappling with so much this past year that he hadn’t allowed himself to dwell on that, though grief for his father was a constant. But now he was no longer alone.

‘Isn’t that what you’re doing? A paternity test is hardly the action of a man wanting to accept his child. It’s what men do to try wriggling out of their responsibilities.’

Avril folded her arms, the action drawing her T-shirt tight across her breasts and making his palms tingle as if wanting to reach out...

‘Don’t worry, as far as I’m concerned you won’t have any responsibilities. I’ve learnt the sort of man you are. I’ll raise my daughter alone.’

He met Avril’s accusing stare and realised she was serious.

The sort of man you are.

Bitterness twisted his lips. That was the sixty-four-million-dollar question, wasn’t it? What sort of man was he?

Once Isam had never thought that in doubt. He was honest and hard-working. He had a sense of humour and enjoyed time with friends, especially adventuring on desert trips or kayaking, though he didn’t have much free time. He’d spent recent years working with his father for the betterment of his country, though mainly behind the scenes while he managed his own business too. His father had had more patience for the restrictions of royal protocol that Isam found so constricting.

But since the accident Isam’s character and abilities had been called into question. Not outright. No one would dare. But the arrangements made to govern the country while he was incapacitated had given some a taste for regal power they hadn’t wanted to relinquish. Nevertheless, it was disappointing to know there’d been a whispering campaign against him emanating from that direction.

So easy to blame others. But given your...continuing problem, can you be completely sure of yourself?

Isam refused to acknowledge the poisonous voice in his head. It only came on the darkest days, which, thankfully, were growing fewer.

One step at a time.

‘A paternity test is also the action of a sensible man in a position of power.’ He refused to apologise for that. It was the reality of his life. ‘You must realise it was a reasonable precaution. It doesn’t mean I’m rejecting our daughter.’

He saw Avril’s eyes grow wide at his emphasis on the word our . She swallowed and he guessed that behind her bravado she was scared.

Who could blame her? The stakes were high and they were all but strangers to each other.

‘Maryam is ours ,’ he reiterated. ‘Not simply yours, not simply mine.’

‘So the real issue was that you didn’t believe me. You had to make sure I wasn’t lying.’ Her expression betrayed disappointment and hurt rather than anger, and Isam felt it like a gut punch, driving hard enough it threatened to wind him. The depth of his reaction surprised him. ‘What did I ever do to make you think me a liar, Isam? We worked together for months. We had a good relationship. I thought you knew me.’

‘Sex isn’t the same as knowing someone. Our affair—’

‘I wasn’t talking about sex .’

She interrupted as no one else did, her tone dismissive.

At home everyone was conscious of his royal status. Trying to have a discussion with Avril Rodgers could be frustrating but he preferred her honest emotion to blind subservience. Or those who paid lip service to respect while manoeuvring against him.

She went on. ‘I’m talking about the way we worked together. You respected me then. You liked me too. I didn’t imagine that. We shared a camaraderie.’ Her mouth firmed. ‘And I’d hardly call the other an affair.’

The other?

She sounded scornful, as if she hadn’t enjoyed sex with him. Despite the gravity of the current situation, which far outweighed whatever carnal joy they’d had, Isam bristled. No woman had ever found him an unsatisfactory lover.

‘What would you call it, then, if not an affair?’

She couldn’t have thought he was offering a permanent relationship! Even foreigners understood that a king’s bride had to meet a whole slew of requirements.

It would be disastrous for a royal sheikh to marry a woman who wasn’t up to the job.

His wife would be more than his companion and lover. She’d be Queen of Zahdar. She’d help him in his work to support their people and keep their country thriving, with the best prospects for the future. She’d be in the public eye every day, a role model to many.

Avril made a dismissive gesture. ‘I’d call it a one-night stand. What else?’

Isam heard the words but instantly rejected them. He jerked back in his seat, pulse chaotic and thoughts whirring.

‘A one-night stand?’

He felt his eyes bulge. Saw her say something but couldn’t make it out over the hammer of his pulse in his ears.

The edge of his vision misted, blurring into grey. But he saw her, every line and curve clearly defined.

She spoke again and this time he caught the words. ‘I said, what else would you call it? We were only together for one night.’

A one-night stand!

With his personal assistant.

A woman dependent on him for employment and a reference.

A virgin.

A terrible, crawling sensation began in his belly, slithering all over him, making his flesh shrink against his bones.

What sort of man was he?

It seemed people had been right to question after all.

He shot to his feet, paced the small room, then paced back again, unable to sit still. Emotions thrashed through him, needing an outlet.

He swung around again and there was Avril, blocking his way. When she spoke her voice was softer. ‘Isam. What is it? I don’t understand.’

Nor did he. If anyone had told him he was a man who’d seduce an innocent then dump her after one night, he’d have been insulted. He’d have claimed it was impossible.

Maryam, their daughter, proved him wrong.

He clutched his head, pain flaring at the effort to dredge up the proof that it wasn’t true.

‘Isam! You’re worrying me. Come and sit before you fall down.’

‘I’m not going to fall,’ he muttered. ‘I’m in peak physical fitness.’

His rehabilitation regime had been taxing. Determined to recuperate quickly, he’d pushed himself even harder. He’d always been fit and now he was stronger physically than ever before.

‘You’re swaying on your feet. Your face has gone grey.’

She half led, half pushed him into a chair. Despite the adrenaline rush in his blood, he felt as if his bones melted into the welcoming upholstery. He trembled all over.

Shock. More than shock. He sometimes got this heady feeling when he pushed too hard. But not usually this bad.

Soft fingers touched his and he snapped his eyes open, surprised to find he’d shut them.

Avril was crouched before him, curling his fingers around a glass of water. ‘Sip it slowly and don’t move. I’ll be back. I’m calling a doctor.’

‘No doctor!’

Her jaw angled pugnaciously. ‘You’re obviously not well.’ When he didn’t reply she added, ‘I don’t want the hassle of a diplomatic incident. Imagine the complications if a head of state collapsed in my home.’

Her pragmatism gave him the jolt of normality he needed. He sipped the water and forced his mind to go blank, as blank as possible in the circumstances. When that didn’t work he focused on his breathing. Soon he had himself under control.

‘My apologies. I know what’s wrong and I don’t need a doctor. I didn’t mean to scare you.’

He saw he’d done just that. Avril’s expression was tense and she was still squatting before him, so near he felt he could lose himself in those golden brown eyes.

She rose but stayed close as if worried he’d stand up. ‘You scared the life out of me. Are you unwell?’

‘Not unwell.’ Technically.

‘And? You went as white as a sheet, then grey when I reminded you we’d only had one night together.’ She paused, eyes narrowing. ‘You looked...stunned.’

Isam knew he should divert the conversation in another direction. He’d become adept at that in the last months.

But something stopped him. Her genuine fear when she thought he was ill? Or the memory, the one that had kept him awake last night, of touching velvet-soft skin and hearing Avril sigh in pleasure?

Suddenly he felt exhausted at the need to keep his secret.

‘How could you be stunned? You know it for a fact.’

He didn’t answer. But he wondered what she saw in his expression for her eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

‘Isam? I don’t like that blank look. It’s as if you’re looking but not seeing.’

He was seeing, all right, but not enough. He drew a shuddering breath and gave her the truth. ‘I take your word for the fact we just had one night. I’m afraid I don’t remember. I have amnesia.’