Читать книгу Modern Romance December Books 5-8 - Дженнифер Хейворд - Страница 26

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

TADJ WAS GRIM-FACED as he returned the salute of his officers as he boarded his yacht. Events had not unfolded as he had anticipated.

This was Lucy, so why expect them to?

The past with all its uncertainties was in his face again, thanks to a woman who had done nothing to deserve his disapproval. In fact, the opposite was true. Rather than wait for him to save the day, Lucy had continued to build a successful future for herself and her child. It was the surprise element of the rain check that got under his skin.

Examining his conscience, he found a few gaps. Had he been completely open with her? Hadn’t he filled her in on what he’d been doing? A word or two would have sufficed—would have changed everything between them. Had he expected Lucy to blithely go along with whatever he decided? When had she ever done that? Seething with impatience to see her again, he glanced at his watch. The countdown to tomorrow had begun.

* * *

Had she gone too far turning Tadj down? Would she even see him again? Lucy wondered as she got ready for the party. He was the Emir of Qalala, after all, not the guy in the café who’d taken whatever she’d thrown at him in the spirit it was intended. They’d both changed, and no wonder Tadj had lost his sense of humour. She’d had no idea on that first encounter what a rigidly structured life the ruler of a powerful country was forced to lead. Surely Tadj had earned some downtime? No one could ever accuse him of short-changing Qalala. Perhaps it was time to allow the people of Qalala to do something for him. Freeing him to be happy would be a start, and the country could only benefit. No slave of duty could ever give their best, in Lucy’s opinion, and she was sad to think Tadj couldn’t love where he chose, or enjoy the freedoms she enjoyed. It was duty first, duty always for the Emir of Qalala, she reflected, putting on a sunny face as she came down the stairs and her friends gathered round. They were keen to find out what had happened when she met up with Tadj. There were no secrets in the workplace.

‘I didn’t want to miss this,’ she said honestly, ‘so we’re meeting again tomorrow morning.’

‘You blew out the Emir of Qalala for the chance to be with us?’ one of her friends demanded with amazement.

‘I wouldn’t miss this for the world.’

That same friend looked at her with concern, and then someone else changed the mood as she exclaimed, ‘Lucy—Lucy—look at all the gifts for the baby. Can we start to open them now?’

‘You shouldn’t have spent your money on me,’ Lucy exclaimed as she confronted the mountain of carefully wrapped gifts. ‘You’ve gone to far too much trouble.’

‘No more than you deserve,’ Miss Francine chimed in firmly. ‘You’re always doing things for us, and now it’s our turn to make a fuss of you.’

Excited exclamations greeted the revelation of each new gift, many of which were painstakingly home-made. She would rather have these genuine tokens of love than all the sapphires in the world, Lucy concluded as she unwrapped them. If only Tadj could understand that.

* * *

He had never been more certain that something was right, or that it could slip through his fingers so easily. Losing Lucy was unthinkable. It would spell disaster for them and for their child. She had every quality he’d been searching for in a queen. The only surprise was that he, with his reputation for decisive action, had remained blinkered for so long. Lucy’s strength and determination set her apart from the so-called suitable princesses. With her natural flair and warmth, she was everything he could wish for. If this were a straightforward business deal, he would have secured her long before now. But this wasn’t a straightforward business deal.

Inside his suite on board his yacht the Blue Stone, he studied the priceless sapphire in his hand. Everything hinged on his next move. Tucking the precious gemstone into the back pocket of his jeans, he railed at the thought that he must wait. If he attempted to bounce Lucy into a decision, she’d bounce the other way. As a lover his credentials were sound; as a man in love, he had so far proved to be pretty useless. It was time to sort that out.

* * *

So, this was it, Lucy thought. Still glowing from the party her friends had thrown for her the previous night, she’d slept fitfully, waking long before dawn had brightened her bedsit. And then she’d spent ages pacing and fretting, instead of getting ready to meet Tadj. She should have drawn up a list—an agenda—something he would understand. Frowning as she chewed her lip worriedly, she stared out of the window at the distant shape of the Blue Stone, which was floating like a slumbering leviathan at anchor just a few hundred yards away. It was almost eleven o’clock on a cold grey winter’s morning. Even the sky looked like a sheet of ice. Wrapping up warmly would do nothing to protect her heart, she mused wryly as she wound a scarf around her neck. Even her much vaunted common sense couldn’t help when Tadj was in the frame. She loved him unconditionally, which made her more vulnerable than she would like. Grabbing her cross-shoulder bag, she checked the contents before leaving the room.

‘Call me stupid,’ she told her friends and Miss Francine as they gathered around her to wish her well, ‘but I’m really excited at the thought of seeing him again.’

‘Not stupid,’ Miss Francine insisted as she brought Lucy into her arms for a hug. ‘A woman in love could never be called stupid in my book.’

Lucy’s friends chipped in with their own raucous suggestions, drowning out Miss Francine as Lucy gave her elderly friend an extra hug. ‘We make our own luck,’ she said as she made her way to the door. ‘So I’d better get out there, and get busy making some.’

‘Just don’t let him walk roughshod over you,’ a friend called out.

‘Who’s going to protect the Emir?’ Miss Francine countered.

There was no protection against love, Lucy thought as she said goodbye to her friends and left the shop.

* * *

As she fell beneath the shadow of the Blue Stone, she could see Tadj waiting out on deck. Her heart went crazy, but when he jogged down the companionway to greet her, they exchanged nothing more than polite kisses on both cheeks. Her lips still tingled from contact with his warm, firm skin, and from the lightest rasp of his stubble. She missed the wildness of their passion, and knew that might never return. Even if it had, she reflected with amusement, on this huge vessel surrounded by officers in crisp whites, it would hardly be appropriate to greet the Emir of Qalala with anything but discretion and reserve. Well, maybe a little more than that, she conceded as she stared deep into Tadj’s unreadable eyes. She wouldn’t have cared who was watching if things had been normal between them.

‘Welcome on board the Blue Stone,’ the Emir of Qalala intoned stiffly. ‘After you,’ he invited politely.

So it was going to be formality all the way, Lucy thought with a heavy heart. Once inside the Blue Stone, her disappointment was soon forgotten.

‘Goodness, this is amazing,’ she exclaimed. Talk about leaving one world behind and entering another. This was amazing. She felt shabby in contrast to her surroundings. Everything was pristine and polished. ‘I thought your friend Sheikh Khalid’s yacht was amazing, but this is—’

‘Doubly amazing?’ Tadj supplied.

‘Yes,’ she said, staring directly into his eyes. Was that a hint of humour? Was Tadj back?

‘Are you expecting someone?’ she asked as they walked deeper into the floating palace. Maybe he was expecting more guests, she thought, taking in all the fabulous floral displays dressing the grand salon. It was a blow to think he might cut their meeting short. ‘Unless this is just how the other half lives?’ she suggested.

‘It could be how you live,’ he said.

‘I believe we’ve already had that discussion.’

‘I believe we have,’ he agreed with a look that reduced her to a lustful crisp.

She barely had chance to register this fact before Tadj yanked her hard against his body. ‘I’m mad to have waited so long,’ he said.

‘To shanghai me?’ she demanded, shivering with excitement and dread.

Stepping back, Tadj lifted up his hands. She felt the loss of him immediately. He knew what he was doing. Nothing Tadj did was ever unintentional.

‘Sit,’ he invited in a voice she couldn’t read.

‘Better not—pregnancy? I might fall asleep.’

‘How flattering,’ he commented with the lift of one brow.

The tension between them was unsustainable, Lucy thought as she quickly explained, ‘I just tire easily.’

‘And must be hungry, I’m guessing.’

Before she could answer this, he tugged a bell pull on the wall. ‘And then a siesta, I think.’

‘Oh, no,’ Lucy protested. ‘I’m not staying that long.’

A discreet knock on the door heralded the arrival of a parade of stewards, carrying all sorts of tempting delicacies into the room. And she was starving.

Somehow eating made everything seem normal again, and the tension between them evaporated, leaving them free to discuss the future of their child. Tadj was keen that both cultures were given equal weight, and that they must both have a say in every decision.

‘A say?’ Lucy queried, worrying that her opinion might carry no weight. Tadj held all the financial cards, making it impossible for her to fight him through the courts.

‘Don’t look for trouble,’ he warned. ‘You’re the child’s mother, so of course your views will be listened to and implemented if we agree they’re beneficial. And, yes, I did use the word we,’ he confirmed.

This was a massive adjustment for Tadj, and he hadn’t finished surprising her yet. ‘What’s this?’ she asked as he handed her a document.

‘Read it and you’ll see.’

Tadj would uphold Lucy’s right to independence in deciding how best to mother her child. ‘You’re giving up all your rights,’ she said.

‘Because I trust you,’ he stated frankly.

Her heart clenched tight, but she had to be sure of his motives. ‘Does this mean you don’t want the responsibility?’

‘Quite the opposite. I intend to take a full part in the upbringing of our child, but it’s important that you feel secure. You mustn’t ever feel threatened at any point. Carry on working for as long as you feel able to—do everything that makes you you.’

She didn’t need anyone to tell her what this must have cost Tadj in time and effort when it came to changing things in Qalala, or how far he’d come in personal terms.

‘I just have one question,’ he said. ‘Do you trust me?’

This was such an important moment, crucial for Tadj, yet an image chose this moment to pop unhelpfully into her head. She had never imagined making such a vital pledge while heavily pregnant with grease around her mouth, having scoffed every bit of food in sight.

‘Lucy...?’

Turning away, she mopped her mouth with a napkin, which gave her chance to draw a deep, steadying breath. ‘Yes, I trust you,’ she said with absolute certainty. ‘I trust you with my life. And, more importantly, with the life of our child.’

‘Then, I have something to say.’

He sounded so formal now, more like the Emir than Tadj.

‘Can you say it after that siesta you mentioned?’

Tadj seemed surprised. ‘I’m not sure I can wait.’

She stared into his face and a quiver of arousal ran through her. ‘You could join me.’

‘If that’s what you want.’

He sounded so stern, but as he picked up her bag and coat she saw a look in his eyes she recognised. ‘It is what I want. We could share the bed?’

Tadj threw her a look that sent her senses into freefall. ‘How accommodating you can be.’

‘When the offer promises so much, why would I hesitate?’

‘Good news for me,’ he said dryly.

He was back. The man she’d fallen in love with was back. ‘What was it you wanted to say to me?’ she remembered as they left the room.

‘It can wait,’ he said, and, linking their fingers, he led her to his suite.

* * *

He’d barely shut the door, when he brought her into his arms and kissed her. ‘Marry me,’ he said while she was still gasping for breath.

‘Are you serious?’ Lucy exclaimed, taken completely by surprise.

‘What do you think this is?’ Tadj growled as he backed her towards the bed.

‘Evidence that you’re pleased to see me after all?’

He laughed, and with a new freedom, she thought as he demanded, ‘Can you be serious for a moment?’

‘If I must.’

‘I think you must.’

‘Marry me, and all this—’ he glanced around ‘—will be yours.’

‘I don’t want anything but you.’

But he didn’t appear to hear her. ‘The Blue Stone is only one of many assets I own across the world—take your pick.’

I choose you, she thought. The rest is unnecessary. I don’t need it. The type of riches he was describing were better suited to a princess, or an heiress, not a working single mother with no time on her hands to appreciate them. They should belong to a woman with expectations, and all Lucy wanted was love.

‘I’m sorry. I can’t marry you,’ she said. ‘I can’t allow you to do this, when we both know I bring nothing to Qalala’s benefit.’

‘You bring everything,’ Tadj argued fiercely. ‘You’re everything I’ve ever wanted and everything Qalala needs.’ Cupping her face in his hands, he stared deep into her eyes. ‘I’m bringing Qalala into the modern age, and with you at my side I can achieve that faster. And I know you don’t expect an easy ride.’

‘I never have,’ she said. ‘But marriage is a step too far. You don’t need to feel sorry for me.’

‘Sorry for you?’ he said. ‘I know what you’re capable of, which is why I’m asking you to be my wife.’

Lucy shook her head. ‘I love you too much to see you sacrifice everything for me.’

‘I don’t have to. If you love me, it’s enough.’ Tadj went on to explain how the constitution of Qalala had been amended to allow the Emir to marry a wife of his choosing, rather than accept a bride chosen by committee. ‘You do love me?’ he confirmed.

‘More than life itself,’ Lucy admitted with her customary bluntness.

They stared at each other, and then Tadj said, ‘So you’ll marry me.’

‘Is that any way to ask?’

The tension broke and they laughed.

‘Excuse me, my lady,’ he said, making her a mock bow. But as he got down on one knee, he made a fatal error. ‘As our marriage is already arranged, I should, I suppose, ask you formally.’

‘What?’ Lucy exclaimed, in no mood to hear anything more. ‘If our marriage is arranged, you’d better unarrange it.’

‘And have our child raised out of wedlock? Surely, you understand I can’t allow that.’

‘I don’t see that it makes any difference at all,’ Lucy said as he sprang up. ‘Our child will be brought up with love—what else matters? A child needs to feel loved, and secure and happy. Do you think it cares about a piece of paper?’

‘A royal child will be under scrutiny.’

‘True, but you could have asked me first—warned me that plans for our wedding were already under way. It is usual.’

‘Do you expect me to be patient now?’

‘You?’ she queried with a glimmer of grim humour. ‘No. But I do expect you to grant me an equal say over everything we do. That is what you promised.’

He should have paced things differently, given Lucy more warning and a better build-up to his proposal. He’d be there for her and their child whatever her answer now. But her answer had to be in the affirmative ‘This is the best,’ he said. ‘How can it be otherwise? Do you propose to live on the opposite side of the world?’

‘So your concern for appearances has driven this proposal?’ she exclaimed. ‘Silly me, when I thought you were in love and being romantic.’

‘I am being romantic,’ he blazed, or he was doing his best, anyway. ‘What about you and me? Don’t we deserve happiness?’

‘No one deserves happiness,’ she countered hotly. ‘It has to be earned. And never at the expense of anyone else.’

‘You can play the saint all you want,’ he exploded, ‘but please don’t expect me to do the same!’

Frustration was hammering at his brain and Lucy was equally heated. Grabbing him, she wrestled hard, rubbing her body against his in her passion. If this was fate, he was destined to get the best workout every single day of his life.

Fate had thrown them together, and now demanded action, Lucy thought as she ripped at Tadj’s clothes.

‘Slow—careful—don’t forget your condition,’ he insisted as she battled to get him naked.

‘I haven’t forgotten anything!’ she flared. Pregnancy had made her mad for sex, mad for him. Knowing pleasure was only a few deep thrusts away made her fiercer than ever.

‘No,’ Tadj said firmly. Standing back, he refastened his jeans. ‘Not here like this...’

Hormones snapping left her ready to scream he couldn’t frustrate her like this, but, scooping her up, he carried her to the bed. ‘Now,’ he murmured with that annoying half-smile of his tugging at one corner of his mouth. ‘Where were we?’

Stripping her efficiently, he positioned and controlled her buttocks with his big, slightly roughened hands, and then took her with the utmost care, but with the utmost thoroughness too, she was happy to report. One deep thrust with a sensational massaging motion of his hips at the end of it was all it took to tip her over the edge into screaming pleasure. While she responded in time to each powerful spasm, Tadj continued to move steadily, ensuring the next release was upon her before the first had even ended.

‘So, what’s your answer to my proposal?’ he demanded the moment she was quiet.

‘It hasn’t changed,’ she said, dragging in some much-needed air. ‘You belong to Qalala and I belong here—well, as close as damn it when I move.’

‘Move?’ Tadj demanded. ‘Move where?’ Releasing her, and withdrawing, he swung her around. Horns locked, they glared at each other, until something changed in Tadj’s eyes. Had he finally accepted the gulf between them was too wide?

She should have known better. Lifting her, he carried her into the bathroom, where, stripping off, he switched on the shower. ‘I need an answer, Lucy.’

His eyes were black, and his body was magnificent. And she, unusually, was lost for words, so she shrugged. ‘I’m moving out of my bedsit,’ she managed finally. ‘It’s too small...’ She gasped as he backed her into the shower. Turning her to face the wall, he nudged her legs apart with his, and made sure that this was the very best shower she’d ever experienced.