Читать книгу Pregnant by the Sheikh - Оливия Гейтс - Страница 9

Two

“Done.”

Numair watched the impact of his one-word answer widening Jenan Aal Ghamdi’s magnificent eyes, spreading a deeper peach blush across the sculpted elegance of her cheekbones.

He was again almost overwhelmed by the need to trace that delectable color that kept surging across her face, the testament to his effect on this irresistible creature. And to luxuriate in every line of her masterpiece features, then drag her to him and taste each one before settling on her lush, dewy lips and devouring them.

It again baffled him, his response to her, the intensity, the immediacy of it. This was unprecedented, inexplicable. Yet it was most opportune. He’d come here for her after all.

He’d come knowing everything about her from the day she’d been born to the moment before he’d seen her. He’d compiled a dossier on her thicker than any he’d ever had on a quarry. From photographs, he’d noted her esthetic symmetry, but he hadn’t had any response to it, as usual.

Then he’d seen her in the flesh, and all thoughts of swallowing the bitter pill of necessity had been decimated by the thunderbolt of his response to her. Compulsions he’d never even imagined had taken him over the moment he’d laid eyes on her across the distance.

No. They’d done so even before he had. He’d felt her first.

Not that he’d realized what it had been he’d felt when a charge of energy had zapped him as soon as he’d entered this ballroom. He’d told himself it must have been a surge of resolve, obliterating any aversion to being here, to launching his mission. Those sensations had strengthened with each step he’d taken until he’d become certain it wasn’t internal, but a response to another person. A woman. Though he’d never felt anything like that toward one, the awareness he’d felt had been definitely...sensual.

Once sure of that, he hadn’t wanted to find the source of the disturbance. It would have been self-sabotaging to make contact with someone who’d triggered such an aberrant reaction in him when he was here in pursuit of a specific woman.

Then that beacon of sensations had moved, and before he could rein himself in, his gaze had been dragged toward it. And he’d found himself looking straight into her eyes. The heart that never faltered and barely sped under extreme conditions, that he almost never felt at all, had dropped a few beats before it had started thundering. It continued to do so.

As their gazes had meshed, so much had collided inside him. Disbelief, wonder, elation and a dozen other things. His target was the same woman who’d had this inexplicable influence on him. He hadn’t even thought what his mission would be like, but had been bound on seeing it through regardless. But this presented what he hadn’t even considered a possibility. That it would be enjoyable, even pleasurable.

Then he’d followed her, no longer out of calculation but compulsion. Everything he’d said and done since had been spontaneous. And real. One thing had been driving him, the one thing he was certain of.

He wanted her.

Then she’d shocked him yet again when she’d given him the means to the very thing he was here to achieve. Stopping her marriage to Hassan Aal Ghaanem.

But since he’d let go of all premeditation, he hadn’t even hesitated. His response had been instantaneous.

The moment it had left his lips, he’d wished it back. This wasn’t how he’d intended this to go. He’d intended to maneuver her, to reel her in slowly, to spoil Hassan’s marriage arrangement by seducing his bride-to-be and claiming her for himself. What he’d just offered wouldn’t serve his purpose.

But he couldn’t take it back. Not when she’d looked up at him with such hope and entreaty as she’d made her request.

Nothing remained on her face now but shock. She must have expected him to say just about anything else but his succinct promise.

He watched the smooth column of her throat working, and he hardened all over as he imagined his lips soothing the convulsive movement, swallowing her moans at their origin.

Then in that velvety voice that strummed every male fiber in his body, her husky question validated his assessment of her incredulity. “Just...done?”

That was his cue to add some qualification, to drive his own bargain. But he couldn’t bear to think of interrupting the unrehearsed progression of events.

Deciding to let this play out and adjust his direction later, he nodded. “I did say I’d do anything for you. I intend to.”

And the strangest thing was, he did. Apart from what he had to gain by intervening, what drove him now was the need to wipe this trapped expression from her face. He’d come here thinking she’d agreed to marry Hassan to have access to his bottomless oil-money resources. While her history painted a picture of an independent, successful woman, he’d known of many such women who preferred being subsidized once the opportunity presented itself. That she’d refused to marry Najeeb, then consented to marry his father had made him think she’d preferred the older man who’d make far less demands, and who’d be far easier to manipulate.

But one look at her had told him that she found Hassan and the idea of marrying him abhorrent on all levels. How she was being forced to enter that marriage, he had no idea yet, but he didn’t doubt that she was, and that she was seething with futile rage at having no choice. A choice he would now give her.

Not that she believed he could, not as easily as he’d implied. He saw the flare of hope in her eyes dim with the gloom of reality. “Intentions are one thing, executions are another.”

“Not to me. Anything I intend, I execute.”

At the certainty in his words, her gaze flickered again. “But surely not anything.”

He shrugged. “I can do anything I put my mind to. I always have. And I always will.”

Her edible lips hung open for moments before a breathy chuckle escaped them. Her every expression and sound inflamed him. Her every inch, even in that unflattering dress, seemed to be exerting an inexorable gravity on his every cell and sense.

She shook her head in dazed humor, and the silky waves of her hair undulated around her shoulders. “You know what? I believe you can. The universe must bend over backward to accommodate you.” Her eyes turned serious, and he wished to fast-forward in time to when she’d look up at him with eyes blazing with passion as he rode her to ecstasy. “But don’t you want to know what this is all about before you make such a commitment?”

He shrugged again. “All I need to know is that you enlisted my help in escaping a fate I believe is worse than death to you. Whatever needs to be done, I’ll do it.”

“But you still need to know details, so you can decide what needs to be done.”

And he gave in to the urge. He reached out and cupped her face, groaned as her firm softness filled his palm, as her flesh singed him with that perfect storm of chemistry that had erupted between them.

He barely stopped himself from swooping to claim the lips that spilled such an intoxicating gasp at his touch. He groaned. “You can tell me everything you want...in my suite.”

His hand melted down her neck and shoulder before it closed over a resilient arm as he turned toward the French doors to lead her outside.

At her rooted unresponsiveness, he frowned. “You do know who I am?”

She had to. She wouldn’t have asked what she had from someone else. For who else could she think could thwart a king?

But he was suddenly uncertain she knew. After all, nothing so far had followed any logical projections.

She silently nodded, her eyes still filled with that shell-shocked expression.

He pressed. “You’re not sure you can trust me?”

She shook her head, then squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them again, they blasted him in an even hotter wave of unconscious sensuality. He barely suppressed a shudder.

But her color had become hectic and her breathing erratic. She swayed unsteadily in his grip.

Suddenly anxious, he asked, “Are you all right?”

She nodded again, then groaned. “Hell, I keep nodding and shaking my head as if I’ve forgotten how to speak.”

His eyes assessed her as he took his hand reluctantly away. “Maybe you don’t want to speak to me anymore.”

Her cough was incredulous. “You’re kidding, right?”

“You tell me. It’s clear I’m...agitating you.”

“Oh, you are. But it has nothing to do with not trusting you. I do trust you.”

He surveyed her expression, not sure if he was reading it right. Because even knowing who he was, such conviction should be premature. And she didn’t strike him as someone given to making such serious claims lightly.

He gritted his teeth. “You don’t need to say what you don’t feel to placate me or to be polite. You have no reason to trust me. Yet. But I will give you any guarantees you demand so you’ll feel safe with me.”

A chuckle burst from her lips. “Oh, you have much to learn about me. When I’m not in my professional mode as a multinational business consultant, I lead with my real opinions first and don’t bother asking questions later.”

This did feel like the truth. This attitude suited her, and everything he felt from her.

His lips relaxed in response to her infectious smile. “I would have nothing less than the whole truth from you.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right person for that.”

“I’ll count on it. I have no tolerance for empty etiquette and pulling punches, either.”

“Yeah, I noticed. You tell it as it is, in the most shockingly direct way possible. Welcome to the club.” She grinned up at him, and he again wondered how he didn’t have her pressed into that column at her back and was all over her. She made his condition even worse when she sighed, the sound caressing his every nerve. “But I do trust you. I just know you’d never harm me in any way. And don’t ask me how I know that. It has nothing to do with anything I know about you. I just do.”

“Then why were you so alarmed about coming to my suite if it didn’t occur to you I’d take advantage of you?”

Again that unfettered chuckle. “As if. I bet you bound over women who pursue you begging to be taken advantage of.”

“You’re not women. You’re you.”

“Even if you consider me different...”

“Not different. Unique.”

Her color heightened again with pleasure at what should have been an exaggeration but was anything but. “Even if you do consider me that, I can’t imagine other men’s weaknesses ever applying to you. You wouldn’t prey on anyone weaker.”

Her opinion of him had something searingly pleasurable swelling inside him. Yet...“I felt your anxiety, your distress. I still feel them.”

Something soft and even more hard-hitting than all her previous expressions came into her eyes as she cocked her head at him, her lips quirking. “Hello? You do realize you’re the most overwhelming man alive, right? As if that wasn’t enough, we broke every rule of personal interaction. Heck, we’ve already progressed to discussing wedding-busting plans. Excuse me if I’m rattled to my core.”

“You don’t need to be. I care nothing about rules. Between us those don’t exist. And you know it.”

“You think I know anything right now? I’m not even sure this is really happening or that you really exist. I only know that nothing has ever come close to hitting me this hard.”

“Another thing we share, then. Even before I saw you, you hit me harder than anything ever had.”

She scrunched her nose at him in adorable teasing. “Don’t you say what you don’t mean to try to tickle my ego.”

His lips twisted, admitting his condition to himself even as he did to her. “I do mean it. Your ego has every right to be rolling on the ground laughing.” Her chuckle tinkled like crystal with such genuine pleasure, he had to fist his hands to keep them from grabbing her. But he also needed to resolve this issue. “So were you just surprised I asked you back to my suite?”

That delightful lopsided grin flashed wider again. “Surprised is the understatement of the century. But seriously, I just needed a moment for a reality check. And to breathe. You, sir, are more breath depleting than the most insane roller-coaster ride.”

Just then another unprecedented thing happened. His own lips spread with a combination of emotions he didn’t recognize. If forced to name them, he’d guess they most approximated delight, indulgence, even tenderness.

His smile had an equal and opposite reaction on her. While everything about her made him hard as steel, she melted against the support of the column at her back.

Her gaze poured hot, glazed reproach over him, making him start to ache, throb. “You should be banned by law from doing that. Everything about you is already overkill. A smile, and that kind, too, can cause widespread damage.”

His smile only widened as triumph revved inside his chest. “No danger of that, as I have no smiles of any kind for anyone. This is exclusively for you.”

“So I’m a target group of one, huh?”

Something tightened in his chest as he heard the word target on her lips. What she’d been to him before he’d seen her. Now it suddenly felt wrong.

Oblivious to his thoughts, she gazed up at him with what he now believed was trust and...was that admiration, too? “I came here tonight thinking I’d run out of luck for life, but because I met you and you’ve offered what you have, no matter what the outcome will be, I’d already revised my opinion. But to be the sole recipient of your smile? Talk about my luck making a total turnaround.”

Giving in to his compulsion, he tugged her to his side. “I’m willing to talk about anything. Just not here. Come with me?”

She nodded, shyness tingeing her gaze, affecting him more because he knew only he elicited such a reaction from her, and it was genuine, like everything else about her. “Just promise me a chance every now and then to catch my breath.”

“Although it’s the last thing I want, I’ll give you all the time you need to feel at total ease with me.”

Her eyes twinkled impishly at him. “I don’t think it’s humanly possible to feel relaxed around you.”

After that first smile, another came easier to him. “Tension works, too. As long as it’s the delicious kind.”

She sighed dramatically. “I don’t know about that. What you provoke is too scalding to be called anything so benign.”

Her ready confessions of his effect on her surged through him again with such unstoppable desire. Unable to wait any longer, he swept her outside.

As he had her rushing to keep up with his eager steps, she melted into him, as if she needed his support. Then as he steered her toward the elevators, he felt her tensing against him.

This tightness in his chest returned. “Worried again?”

Her smile brightened once more, becoming whimsical as she shook her head. “You’d never be a threat to me, Sheikh Numair. If I have anything to worry about, it’s what an overpowering temptation you are.”

Something twisted in his gut when she called him sheikh. It sounded...so right.

His arm tightened around her, as if in thanks. “It’s only fair, since you’re that, and more, to me.”

Sharing a smile of expectation with her, feeling as if everything he’d ever wanted was within his grasp, he took her into the elevator.

* * *

As Numair held the door open for her, Jen walked past him on legs that at once had the consistency of steel and jelly.

She was really here. In his suite.

Trying to focus on anything besides the feel of him at her back, his scent and heat flooding her senses, she tried to look around.

Though she’d stayed at The Plaza before, it had never been in such a room. The one-of-a-kind Royal Plaza Suite was on a level of magnificence that equaled Zafrana’s royal palace. Though with the hard times her homeland had fallen on, the state of the two places couldn’t be compared. This suite that sprawled over almost five thousand square feet in the most private area of the legendary hotel, overlooking the most prized views in Manhattan—Fifth Avenue and the Pulitzer Fountain—was impeccably maintained. With its rich decorations, sumptuous textiles and exquisite furnishings, all inspired by the ambiance of the royal court of Louis XV, it was the ultimate in luxury. While Zafrana’s royal palace, where she’d grown up, was on its way to becoming dilapidated.

Her gaze strayed back to Numair, and she found herself wondering what his home looked like.

Not that she’d ever find out. Whatever was happening here, whatever he was offering, whatever he wanted in return, she had no illusions it would be anything but transient.

Which she was okay with. Anything she’d have with him, anything he could do for her, would be far more than anything she’d dared dream of an hour ago.

Ya Ullah, had it been only an hour? She felt she’d known him, had been in this state of agitated excitement in his company, forever. It felt like days ago when she’d made her reckless request.

She’d more than half expected he’d shrug and move on. His immediate and unequivocal response had been the last thing she’d expected. And it had shocked the hell out of her.

But what else was new? Everything from the moment she’d laid eyes on him had been one shock after another. And here she was. In his suite. What she’d never done with any man. Not even the man she’d once married. She’d always met any man on her turf. She’d dictated the pace, the rules.

She hadn’t even thought of trying to impose those on Numair. Even when he’d made it clear he’d accommodate her every wish. It wasn’t because she needed his help or because he’d promised it. He was just...overriding. And for the first time in her life, she loved being swept away, not being in control of herself or the situation. Numair made what should have been a disconcerting experience, to someone as obsessive about autonomy as herself, exhilarating.

His hand once again burned her waist through her dress as he guided her through a succession of vestibules to a massive space hosting a sumptuous ten-seat dining table and a luxurious sitting area.

Stepping away from his electrifying touch, she sought the refuge of the grand piano at the far corner. Once behind it and taking in the whole scene with him at its center, she felt herself stumble out of the surreal state she’d plunged into.

Numair might have admitted her equal effect on him, but would he consider it equally her right to follow her instincts as it was his? She did trust him not to make any move she didn’t invite, but she suddenly didn’t trust he’d view this whole thing as she did. Could he be so progressive he wouldn’t hold it against her and change his treatment of her?

Well, if he wasn’t, it would be his loss, and she’d be well rid of him. As she had been of her ex.

Striving for an even tone, she asked, “Are you in New York to attend the reception?”

Those amazing emerald-like eyes of his glittered. “I wasn’t invited, no.”

“So you heard royals from your region were having an engagement celebration at your hotel and you simply decided to investigate?”

“Something like that.”

She’d have to be satisfied with that, because he didn’t seem about to elaborate. Not that it mattered why he happened to be there. What mattered was whether he could truly help her.

Before she could reintroduce the subject, he came around the piano. “I detect a severe drop in temperature since we entered the suite. Having second thoughts after all?”

His voice had deepened, calmed, as if soothing a skittish mare. He reached for her hand that lay fisted on the black, polished surface of the piano. His hand was big enough to lose hers in, tough enough it could pulverize brick. Yet the gentleness with which he coaxed her hand open, the consideration in his eyes as he surveyed her no doubt tense face, suddenly made her ashamed of her surge of doubt.

Squeezing her eyes in contrition, she groaned, “I guess I got a bit paranoid.”

He frowned. “Were you worried that your trust in me was unsubstantiated, and I’d do something against your will once I got you here?”

She shook her head vigorously, needing him to know this was something she’d never suspect. “Not that. I just worried you’d change your...attitude.”

“Like men usually do, once they think they’ve gotten their objectives and no longer need to hide their nasty natures and double-standard convictions?”

From the way his gorgeous lips thinned, she knew if such men crossed his path, they’d regret it for life. He did have that protector/punisher vibe going.

She wished he’d let this go but knew he wouldn’t. This man needed to know everything, to have a tight handle on every situation. He’d probe until she spilled everything that had crossed her mind in those moments of unease.

She sighed. “Men are like that to one degree or another in my experience, but mainly men from my region, yes.”

One dauntingly arched eyebrow rose. “Are all men chauvinists there?”

“Double standards are the general stance, perpetrated by women even more than men. Anyone, especially a woman, who dares flaunt cultural rules and restrictions becomes stigmatized, no matter how modern everyone looks on the surface.”

“Why did you fear I’d be like them? I was born in your region, but I was not raised there.”

“Indoctrination happens at a very early age. It takes very progressive families and especially mothers not to imprint their children with the worst of the culture. In general, men there are raised to have very cruel opinions of women whom they perceive as ‘loose.’”

“And you thought my early programming would resurface, and I’d judge you for coming up here with me?”

“It was a passing thought, okay? An ingrained reaction that really has nothing to do with you.”

“But it wasn’t ingrained in you because of the general state of affairs in your homeland. It was out of personal experience, wasn’t it?”

She’d been right. He wouldn’t rest until he had the whole truth. She sighed again. “How much do you know about me? You clearly investigated me before crashing the reception.”

He guided her to the nearest couch, pulled her down on it with him. “Investigations provide only broad lines that can be interpreted in different ways that can all turn out to be wrong. You tell me what’s accurate.”

Shuddering as his power and warmth encompassed her, she leaned against the dark brown velvet couch. She hoped she didn’t look as swooning as she felt as she gazed up at him.

“I am the very definition of loose in my region. From leaving my family at eighteen to live in another country, to supporting myself ever since, to making success and autonomy my life goal, to being a divorcée who hasn’t returned home in penance, seeking the shelter of her family and the forgiveness of society, I’m the cautionary tale mothers tell their little daughters. Anything bad that ever befell me is advertised as punishment for my sins.”

His expression hardened with her every word, until his face seemed to be hewn from granite. “Everything you just mentioned, everything you achieved and are, makes you only enterprising and powerful, a role model all women in and out of your region should aspire to emulate.”

She let loose an incredulous laugh. At his imperiously questioning look she explained, “It’s just funny to hear you say what my baby sisters always do. But they are incapable of being impartial when it comes to me.”

“I’m totally partial when it comes to you. I also happen to be absolutely right.”

She again barely stopped herself from doing something impulsive. That was, more so than coming up to this suite. Something like throwing herself against his massive chest and smothering him in kisses. Which she might end up doing soon. Exposure to him was chipping away at any control she had left.

Watching her with that intensity that compromised her will, he said, “Your sisters are astute young ladies for making you their role model. You’re the perfect one.”

She waved his words away. “Let’s not exaggerate, okay? I’d just die if they followed in some of my footsteps.”

“Why? You’re not proud of your achievements?”

“Those I’m proud of. I’m not proud of my mistakes.”

“What are those? A failed, short-lived marriage? You think that disqualifies you as an inspiration?”

“Catastrophic choices certainly do. In my bid for freedom and independence, I made more than one. Like marrying the first man who seemed to be the opposite of the chauvinistic men I was used to, and finding out very soon he had equally objectionable traits, only on the other side of the spectrum. But whether I deserved it or not, I was their role model, and I strove to fill my position. The one thing I mourned most about being forced to marry Hassan was that I could no longer be that to them.”

“You’ll always be what your sisters look up to.” He loomed over her as he sat up, his gaze seething with something she could only think was affront on her behalf. “Now tell me exactly how Hassan is forcing you into marriage. Leave out nothing.”

Taking a huge breath, she started explaining everything.

He listened, his focus on her so total, it made it hard to speak. But she did, and she left nothing out as he’d demanded.

His expression grew almost scary as he listened, but he remained silent even after she finished, until she started to vibrate with tension. What if, now that he knew the extent of Zafrana’s debts, he realized he couldn’t do anything for her and apologized for giving her false hope?

Then he finally spoke, his voice a blade. “I knew about the debts, but I didn’t know they were that crippling, or that the internal situation in Zafrana was that volatile.”

“Father wouldn’t have thought of asking me to do this for anything less.”

He raised his hand, his jaw muscles bunching. “Nothing is worth imposing on you in any way, let alone sacrificing you. He should have sacrificed himself.”

“He would have if it would have solved the problem.”

“He should have considered any measures but bartering you to that old goat.”

She burst out laughing. At his grim frown, she spluttered, “That’s exactly what I called him earlier this evening to Zeena.” At the growing thundercloud that gripped his face, she sobered. “What would you have done?”

“You don’t want to know.”

She gasped, for those five words painted a clear picture. This man was as deadly as she’d thought earlier, and not figuratively. He was no stranger to eliminating enemies. Even with his own hands.

Before she could process what kind of disaster she might have instigated by seeking his intervention, he demanded, “I need the specifics of those debts.”

She latched on to the relatively innocuous subject. “Of course. You need to know everything before deciding whether you can help, or even if you’d want to.”

He shot her one of those authoritatively reprimanding glances. “Those specifics have no bearing on my decision. That was final since the moment I gave you my word. They are only for devising the most effective attack.”

She shot up straight. “Attack?”

His eyes became icy emeralds. “There will be extreme measures employed in releasing Zafrana from Saraya’s shackles.”

Her heart hammered in dismay. “Define extreme.”

“Eliminating the problem at the source.”

“And how would you do that?”

“That’s my business.”

“Actually, it’s mine, too. Mine, mainly. I’m the one who asked for this, and if you’re going to do anything to...to hurt Hassan, I’d have to withdraw my request.”

“You care what happens to him?”

“No, but I don’t want him to meet with an unnatural end, either. For Saraya. For Najeeb. For peace’s sake.”

She thought his eyes flared at Najeeb’s mention, but he only said, “Peace is always achieved after a war. A war always comes with heavy losses.”

“I don’t want freedom that comes at such a price.”

“You think I’d kill him, don’t you?”

“You sure made it sound like that.”

“His demise can be easily arranged.” As she started to splutter in alarm, his lips twisted in a lethal smile. “But it just happens I’m not considering liquidating him. Just his chokehold over Zafrana, and with it, most of his assets.”

She held his gaze until she decided he was telling the truth, then collapsed back in relief. “For a moment there I thought I’d just signed Hassan’s death warrant.”

“It is the preferable, cleaner solution.” As her heart pounded again, he added, “But I won’t let him off that easy. Hassan’s actions deserve protracted punishment before I even consider granting him reprieve.”

“You still make it sound as if you’ll end up offing him!” When he only shrugged, she sat up again and threw her hands up in the air. “Ya Ullah...I can’t believe we’re sitting here haggling over the pros and cons of assassinating Hassan.”

“To off him or not to off him, that is the question.”

That, and his bedeviling expression, made her burst out laughing. “You fiend! You had me going there.” Melting back again, she grinned. “So what do you intend to do, for real?”

“Which part of that’s my business don’t you get? You made the demand, now sit back while I take care of it as I see fit.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers, huh?”

“You’d never be anything but what you are, a princess whose demands must always be met.”

His over-the-top statements kept leaving her breathless, her lips tingling with the need to taste them at the origin.

But she still had to make sure of one thing. “If my requests are that important to you, promise you won’t go overboard. Just do enough to set me free, and hopefully set Zafrana back on the road to economic independence. I don’t want any fallout to hit my father or Zafrana. Or Saraya.”

He inclined his magnificent head, making her again wish he’d release his raven’s-wing silk from its imprisoning band. “I promise I will be surgical. My excisions will leave the whole region healthier. Just for you.”

Breath left her on a choppy exhalation. “You’re really going to do this.” She shook her head dazedly. “Wow...just give me a second to get my head around all of this.”

“Take all the time you need.” He did this heart-melting gesture again, reaching for a lock of her hair and rubbing it in utmost enjoyment between his fingers. “But you can start celebrating your restored freedom right now.”

Moved to the brink of tears, she squeezed her eyes shut. When she finally opened them, they’d filled her eyes, soaked her voice. “I need to apologize.”

He frowned. “Never apologize, not to me. But what do you think you should apologize for?”

“For what I thought when I first thought of asking you for this.”

“What did you think?”

“That you’d never do anything out of the goodness of your heart. That you don’t have one.”

A mirthless huff escaped him. “You were right. I don’t have one. Not in any humanly accepted sense.”

“From where I’m sitting, you have something better. I thought you’d never do anything for anyone without something of equal or more value in it for you, and I was wrong.”

“Maybe you should withdraw your apology. Since you weren’t wrong. I do want something.”

Her heart forgot to beat. “You do?”

“Yes.” He held her gaze in the snare of his. “An heir.”