Unknown Royal Baby

Chapter Ten

CHAPTER TEN

I SAM LOOKED INTO SEARCHI NG , golden brown eyes and felt his control snap. His hands tightened on hers.

She thought he didn’t want her?

He’d held back, needing to persuade her into marriage and not wanting to rush her physically. But he’d imagined his heated thoughts had betrayed him. After all, they’d been intimate before. He’d assumed she’d read his hunger, despite his attempts to rein it in.

But she was an innocent, remember? And you only had one night together . Maybe she’s not adept at reading the signs.

The reminder that he’d been her only lover fuelled that renegade hunger, yet made him feel protective too.

He wrapped his arms around her and tugged her against him. A sigh chased its way up his throat as their bodies made contact.

Just holding her, fully clothed, made him shudder with satisfaction. What was it about this woman? She created a need in him more potent than any he’d ever known.

Her hands pressed to his chest, fingers splayed as she tipped her head back, keeping their gazes locked.

‘You really want me?’

‘Of course I want you. In London I broke every rule to have you.’ That he knew for sure. ‘Since you came to Zahdar I’ve been having cold showers every day. I’m trying to give you time to adjust.’

She looked at him with solemn eyes. ‘You never said.’

He frowned. Before the reception he’d told her he wanted her as his. But he’d been concentrating on reassuring her, supporting her in preparation for their first appearance together. Maybe he hadn’t been completely clear.

‘I’m saying it now. I’m desperate for you, Avril. Let me show you how much.’

Isam gathered her up in his arms and, when her lips curved into a fragile smile, marched across the room and into her bedroom, hitting a light switch on the way. He laid her on the bed, almost laughing at her expression of mixed shock and eagerness.

Despite her earlier doubt she didn’t protest. Far from it. All the worries and demands of the long day disintegrated as he looked down at her, watching him avidly.

He wanted to take his time cataloguing everything from her velvet skin to the way the rich fabric enhanced her feminine shape. It was a hard-fought battle against the urgency that had tested him since meeting her across that London conference table.

Shucking off his shoes and keffiyeh, he followed her onto the bed, reaching for her foot in one jewelled sandal. Swiftly he released the narrow straps and tossed it away. He explored her instep, her dainty toes, high arch and curved ankle, registering each shiver and twitch in answer to his touch.

She was so responsive that he made himself pause rather than swiftly work his way up her body. He propped her heel on his thigh and worked the muscles of her foot in a deep massage. Her tension dissolved almost instantly. Her soft moan was the most erotic music.

It reminded him of the way she’d gasped out his name as she climaxed. That memory was clear and enticing and never failed to arouse.

Isam lowered her foot to the bed and stripped away her other sandal before massaging that foot.

Avril lay before him, fully dressed, eyes narrowed to slumbrous, golden slits, shifting needily, her hands curling into the bedspread.

A shaft of heat tore through him, settling in his already hard groin. He wanted her now , without preamble. But it would be even better if he took his time.

Her dress was soft as he pushed it up her legs, but not as soft as her flesh. Unable to resist, he pressed a kiss to her calf, then stroked it with his tongue, feeling her muscle spasm.

‘Isam!’

Her voice was husky. It made his skin tight and weighted his groin so he had to take a moment, concentrating on control.

He looked up to find her propped on her elbows, watching him, eyes radiant with ardour.

‘Patience, sweetheart.’

He wanted her so badly it hurt. But he wanted to imprint himself on her. To set up a deep-seated need in her that only he could assuage. To make her crave him .

Because he couldn’t remember everything he needed to about how they’d come together?

Because that gap in his memory made him feel exposed?

He shied from that. Too often in the last year he’d felt that way. He preferred to take charge.

Isam wanted Avril, wanted sex, but he wasn’t above using their desire to bind her to him. She’d agreed to marry but he knew she still doubted her decision, and him.

He couldn’t allow that. He had to make utterly sure of her. He’d give her time to acclimatise and prepare for the wedding, but having her back out at the last minute wasn’t an option. Sex would reinforce the ties that bound them.

How delightful when duty and his own desire dovetailed.

You call this duty? You couldn’t pull back from her if you tried.

Isam shoved the crimson skirt higher, pretending not to notice the fine tremor in his hands as he palmed her smooth thighs. Without stopping, he shoved the material over her belly, then stroked his fingers back down her hips, curling them into the pale lace of her panties on the way and dragging them down her legs. A second later they followed her sandals onto the floor and he knelt between her knees, gloating.

Avril was beautiful, more beautiful than he’d remembered. The contrast between her formal dress and her bare lower body only fuelled his excitement. He felt greedy and dizzy with anticipation. Like a teenager, teetering on the edge of control.

That he couldn’t allow. He was determined to bring her pleasure before finding his own.

Slowly he slid his hands back up her thighs to her hip bones, not deviating to that V of dark hair, despite the way she twitched and turned, seeking his touch.

‘Soon,’ he promised. But first, he’d seen something else that fascinated him. The light caught striations low on her belly. His breath hitched as he guessed their meaning. ‘Are they stretch marks?’

He’d heard of them but never seen any.

Avril shifted abruptly and Isam looked up to catch her change of expression. Her eagerness had transformed into discomfort, her mouth forming a moue as if of distaste.

He frowned. To him these marks were a badge of honour, proof of her body’s miracle in conceiving and carrying their child. Emotion welled at how special this woman was. How extraordinary.

He kissed the narrow lines and felt her stiffen. But he wasn’t deterred. He explored each one, taking his time, telling her how proud he was, how thankful and how awed. In English and Arabic he praised her, telling her, with absolute truth, that he’d never wanted any woman more.

When he’d finished, her thighs were slack beneath him, her hands fisted in his hair and her eyes aglow.

His voice was thick and rough. ‘You are so very beautiful, Avril.’

And she was his . He felt it deep in his belly, in the very marrow of his bones.

No other woman in his past had affected him like this.

Did she feel the same about him? The possibility that she didn’t was unbearable. He wanted to bind her to him, not just with a promise of marriage but with ties of emotion and need.

He pushed her legs wide and settled between them, lowering his head. Her thighs trembled as he parted her folds to unveil that sensitive nub. Her whole body jolted as he captured it in his lips, drawing long and slow.

She gasped, her hands clenching tighter, holding him to her. As if he had any intention of leaving! The scent and taste of honeyed woman and arousal enveloped him and he couldn’t get enough.

He needed to take his time, draw this out so that she hovered on the brink of bliss for as long as possible. But his own need weakened his determination. Instead of prolonging her pleasure he drove her further, faster, using his mouth and his hands until her quivering body rose desperately against him and shudders racked her. He felt her climax, tasted it, was part of it as she cried his name again and again, drawing him to her.

When he finally climbed higher to settle beside her Avril burrowed into his arms, her broken breaths hot at his throat, fingers clutching, legs tangled with his.

A tiny, thinking part of his brain triumphed at her response. But mostly Isam was caught in the pure joy of bringing her such pleasure. He wrapped her close, stroking her hair, delighted and possessive in equal measure.

Her eyes, when they opened, gleamed golden rather than brown and he felt something inside him soften and melt.

He wanted her to look at him like that again and again. He’d never tire of it.

Isam’s already taut body stiffened with need as she moistened her lips to speak.

Then a wail pierced the night air.

Isam blinked, taking a second to identify the sound when all his thoughts had been on Avril and himself. It had felt as if no one else existed but the pair of them.

The sound came again, louder this time.

Avril slumped against him. ‘Maryam.’

For a second he lay there, storing up every wonderful sensation, so much better than his broken memories of them together. Then, with a supreme effort, he rose from the bed and walked stiffly towards the cries.

A nightlight was on, giving the nursery a cosy glow. The baby looked up from the cot with a trembling chin, and tear-washed eyes. Before she could cry again he lifted her, rocking her gently. She didn’t want to settle, instead mouthing the fine cotton of his robe.

‘Sorry, little one. I can’t help with that.’

But he could make sure she was changed and dry before taking her to Avril. When he returned to the bedroom with Maryam, Avril had changed into a cotton robe, sitting back against the pillows and smothering a tremendous yawn. She looked flushed and lovely though her gaze skated from his. Was she shy about what they’d done? Did she regret it?

Then she lifted her gaze from their daughter to him and her smile made something in his chest tumble.

‘Thank you, Isam. I should have expected this.’

‘What about the nanny?’

‘I’ve told her I’d do the nights myself.’ She shrugged. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t have insisted. It would be nice to get more rest, but she’s been working all hours and deserved a break. Besides, I prefer my privacy. We close the door to her quarters at night.’

Isam nodded. He hadn’t given any thought to their privacy as he’d set about seducing Avril. He’d been too caught up in his need for her.

That was a first. He couldn’t remember any time when he’d been so lacking in caution.

Except when you got your PA pregnant.

What was it about Avril that made him forget everything else?

No time now to ponder. He carried the baby to Avril where she sat propped against the pillows.

Despite the colour in her cheeks and the glitter in her eyes, he registered the shadows of fatigue beneath those eyes. She covered her mouth as another yawn escaped.

It struck him how much had changed for Avril in a short time. She was a new mother in a foreign country where she didn’t know the language or customs. She’d been brilliant tonight at the reception, but it must have been an enormous strain.

Isam had been working all hours, managing his royal responsibilities and dealing with crises that he believed were of Hafiz’s making. As a result he’d barely focused on how daunting this was for her.

That had to change.

‘It might be better if I leave you to finish up then get some rest.’

Her eyes rounded and she stopped in the act of opening her robe for the baby to feed.

‘You’re leaving?’

He caught her hand and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her palm. He tasted honey-sweet woman and the salt tang of sex. A shudder of hunger ripped through him. One taste of her was nowhere near enough.

He swallowed, his voice rough. ‘I want to stay. But if I do I’ll be tempted to make love to you all night. I suspect you need your sleep now more than you need sex.’

‘But you didn’t...’

‘Don’t worry about me.’ He hauled in a deep breath. ‘Ever since we met again we’ve been working to my schedule, driven by my imperatives as King. Let me do this for you, Avril. Feed Maryam then rest. You look like you can barely keep your eyes open. Perhaps we can breakfast together.’

This time when Avril smiled, her pleasure had nothing to do with sexual desire, yet he basked in its warmth. It was the first real smile she’d bestowed on him since his accident. It felt like a rich gift.

Simply at the suggestion they share a meal.

You already knew she was unlike other lovers.

Yet that didn’t explain his elation at her unguarded smile.

He kissed her hand again, inhaling the sweet essence of her, then made himself go to the door. He had to leave now or risk forgetting his good intentions. It was going to be a long night.

‘Until the morning. Sleep well.’

‘The food isn’t to your taste?’

Avril started, her gaze locking on Isam’s, and reaction rippled through her belly.

‘It all looks lovely, thank you.’

She surveyed the food on the table between them, yanking her thoughts from last night. Difficult to do when her brain couldn’t get past their renewed intimacy and the pleasure he’d given her.

The table was loaded with every conceivable breakfast item from fragrant savoury dishes to fruits, pastries, breads, dips, jams and even a large block of honeycomb dripping with sweet bounty.

‘Do sheikhs eat like this every morning?’

He chuckled and even that set off reverberations deep inside as if she were attuned to him at a visceral level. ‘I’m afraid I eat rather more frugally usually but I wasn’t sure what you liked. Please help yourself.’

She nodded and reached for flatbread, cheese and a ripe fig.

It was hard to concentrate on breakfast when her mind kept returning to the magic he’d worked on her needy body. She’d been so sure they’d spend the night together yet he’d insisted on going, leaving her restless now despite the best sleep she’d had in months.

She’d been moved when he’d put her needs above his own. How many men would do that? Maybe there was a chance for her to become more than the bride foisted on him by circumstance.

Her blood sang and her appetite sharpened. She bit into warm bread spread with soft cheese, almost groaning with delight at its nutty deliciousness.

‘You like that? Try it with rose-petal jam.’

His tone was husky, eyes glinting as he watched her eat. It was the same expression he’d worn as he watched her climax less than twelve hours earlier. He’d looked at her then as if she were the most delectable feast he’d ever tasted. The memory scrambled her brain.

Avril hurried into speech, needing something else to focus on. ‘Tell me about the people at last night’s reception. Who was the woman in silver?’

The woman had looked at the pair of them with the strangest expression, though her face had been bland when she’d approached and congratulated them on their engagement.

‘Silver? Surely there were several.’

‘She was with that man who behaved so oddly. You saw him too, he looked upset and he left without a word.’

Avril watched Isam pause in the act of helping himself to baked eggs. His abrupt stillness made her skin prickle.

She’d known there was something strange about the man, though the other guests hadn’t noticed. They’d been watching her and Isam.

Isam finished filling his plate. ‘You really are observant. I remember that from when we worked together.’

Her pulse quickened. ‘You remember more about us together?’

‘Still not everything, but lots, including your initial interview.’ He smiled. ‘You were very impressive. And I remember almost all the days we worked together in London.’

Avril struggled not to feel disappointed that it was only their business dealings he recalled, rather than anything personal. Surely if their intimacy had been important to him he’d remember it.

To Isam she’d been only his PA. Now she was his necessary bride. Never someone he wanted for her own sake.

Don’t even go there. You need to keep your feet firmly on the ground.

‘So who was he, the man who left without congratulating us?’

She watched Isam sip his coffee before replying, his deliberate movements confirming her intuition that this was important. Had he been trying to divert her from her original question?

‘His name is Hafiz and he’s a distant relative. After my father died and while I was in a critical condition, the Royal Council appointed him as regent. He held that position until it became clear I’d live, and then for a while afterwards until I was well enough to rule.’

Isam spoke matter-of-factly, yet Avril’s heart hammered high in her throat. She hadn’t known there’d been any question about him surviving.

‘You’re really all right now?’

‘Really. Except for some persistent memory loss that’s gradually improving.’

Yet his smile didn’t reach his eyes. She could only guess how frustrating amnesia must be.

‘You don’t like him, do you?’

His eyes widened with surprise. ‘As a royal I’ve spent my life keeping my emotions to myself. But you read me too easily, Avril, better than most people.’

She said nothing, just waited. Finally he said, ‘I hadn’t wanted to tell you yet. You have enough to deal with. This—’ his gesture encompassed their palatial surroundings ‘—takes a lot of getting used to.’

‘I don’t need to be coddled. I’d rather understand what’s going on.’

His prevarication only heightened her concern. The Isam she knew didn’t dither. He was quick to grasp problems and take action. Yet now he seemed reluctant to talk.

Finally he shrugged. ‘There have been problems for some time. At first I wondered if they were my fault. That’s the way it seemed, or at least the way it was made to seem.’

‘I don’t understand.’

Isam’s expression hardened. ‘Nor did I. I was convinced my memory loss was only for the period before and during the accident, not afterwards. Yet important errors kept being made, all stemming from my office, apparently leading back to me. No real damage has been done...yet. But it’s been a close-run thing and only because my staff are so dedicated and loyal. There have been whispers among the few who knew about my amnesia, that perhaps I wasn’t up to the job of ruling after all. That I was unreliable, my brain too damaged to work effectively.’

A chill of premonition skated down Avril’s spine. ‘You think Hafiz is behind that.’

Isam nodded. ‘Behind the rumours, and, thanks to you, I’m now sure he’s behind the problems we’ve had.’

‘Thanks to me? I haven’t done anything.’

‘But you have. The day you found that group waiting in the courtyard, you described the man who’d loitered nearby. The one who hurried away when you called him. Your description fitted someone who’d already raised suspicion. He’s a secretary in the palace with access to my office and he has a close connection with Hafiz. My personal staff have checked his movements over the past several months and his access to restricted information. We believe he engineered every crisis we’ve faced.’

Avril stared, her stomach churning. ‘You mean leaving those people out in the heat was deliberate? That could have been disastrous.’

‘Exactly. And because they were told I’d personally requested them to attend that day, some might make a case that it was my fault. That I’m undependable and make erratic, pointless decisions.’

‘ Some meaning Hafiz?’

‘It sounds far-fetched but it’s no joke. The crises we dealt with were initially to do with leaked confidential information that might affect key commercial negotiations and national security. Now he’s stooped to threaten the health of innocent bystanders too.’ His voice hardened. ‘All because Hafiz has developed a taste for royal power. I think he hoped I wouldn’t recover and the council might make him Sheikh.’

‘That’s appalling! Surely no one would take him seriously.’

Isam’s mouth tightened. ‘He tries to capitalise on the fact that prior to the accident my work for the country was mainly behind the scenes. He even tried to paint me as a playboy with no interest in governing, based on a few high-profile lovers years ago.’ Isam shook his head. ‘When I was young I was impatient of royal protocol, leaving most official public duties to my father. But we worked as a team. I’ve helped run the country for years.’

Avril struggled to take it all in. ‘But he can’t get rid of you, can he? You’re well.’

‘I am. The only way I can be removed as Sheikh is if I’m proven incompetent to lead. That won’t happen.’

She surveyed his grimly set features and relief stirred. The thought of Isam dethroned by a conniving rival chilled her. Not that she knew anything about Zahdari politics, but she knew him. He had immense vision, was dependable and talented, the sort of qualities a leader needed.

The shock of his revelation made her realise her earlier doubts about his motives said more about her than him.

‘Don’t worry, Avril. Now we’ve located the mole in the palace we’ll be able to prove what he’s up to.’

‘And Hafiz? What was he doing last night?’

Isam’s mouth flattened. ‘I can’t say for sure but the woman with him was his daughter.’ He paused as if searching for words. ‘In the months after my accident the Royal Council strongly urged me to marry. Everyone likes the idea of an heir to carry on the succession. Hafiz suggested his daughter as a suitable bride and I agreed to consider the possibility. He was looking at ways to shore up his links to the throne.’

Avril’s breath clogged her throat, making her voice thick. ‘But then you found out I’d had your baby.’

It was one thing for him to say he’d probably have married a woman from his own country if circumstances had been different.

But it was another to discover that wasn’t theoretical, that there was another woman!

A sophisticated, elegant woman who looked born to the role of Sheikh’s wife. Who’d do it more successfully than Avril ever could.

No wonder the crowd had hushed as the woman in silver offered her good wishes on their engagement.

Avril folded her arms, hugging them close to her body, holding in the sudden wretchedness churning her insides.

‘Yes. From that moment there was no question of me marrying anyone else.’ After a second he continued. ‘I never agreed to marry her, Avril. Only to think about it. As for Hafiz’s behaviour last night, I don’t know. But only a very few people knew about our engagement in advance. Hafiz wasn’t one. My guess is he was furious that his ploy to marry off his daughter to me failed.’

Warm fingers covered hers and squeezed. ‘Don’t worry. Soon we’ll have proof of his machinations. His campaign against me can’t succeed. And you can be sure I’ll look after you and Maryam. Believe me, Avril, I take my duty very seriously.’