The Sheikh's Last Mistress (Harlequin Presents)

by Rachael Thomas

  He’d played that conversation over and over in his mind, convinced that it had a deeper relevance. It had been Mina’s very insistent mention of sickness over recent mornings which had set alarm bells ringing.

  ‘She is not well, sire.’ He could still hear the worry in her voice as the words whirled in his head.

  ‘Not well?’ He’d swung round to face the maid, wanting an explanation.

  ‘For the last two mornings, sire, she has been unwell.’ Mina’s usual subservience had been absent and she’d looked at him earnestly, but all he’d been able to think of was Destiny out on Majeed in the heat of the day, when she wasn’t well. He hadn’t wanted to hear anything else and had marched from the suite, but now he wished he’d demanded a full explanation instead of accepting hints that Destiny was suffering from morning sickness.

  Just as when he’d galloped across the desert to find her, he knew that if Destiny had become pregnant from their union it would change everything. The child she carried was his child, his heir, and he had a duty towards that child greater than the duty to make an arranged marriage. In all probability, the child had been conceived the night he’d taken her innocence, which in itself tied him irrevocably to her.

  He wanted to ask Destiny but, for a man who always guarded his emotions, he was overwhelmed with this unexpected news. He knew he wouldn’t be able to put it into words without giving away his excitement at the prospect of being a father and what this turn of events meant for them—that his duty was now to her and their child...that they could be together.

  He wanted to pull her to him, kiss her and tell her he’d do his duty, he’d look after her and the baby, but still she hadn’t said anything and the underlying suspicion that he’d misinterpreted Mina’s words, or that she herself was mistaken, was still a real possibility. He would have to allow Destiny time to break the news herself.

  As soon as she did he knew exactly what he’d do. It wouldn’t be the duty he’d always envisaged, of making an arranged marriage and producing heirs, but the duty to his unborn child. The duty of not a ruler, but a father.

  Much to his annoyance, Destiny didn’t say anything and he noticed for the first time her Western clothes and the obvious attempt to distance herself from him.

  ‘You will not be able to leave today. A goodbye feast is organised for tomorrow and the next day my plane will be available to take you back to England.’ He hoped she wouldn’t need that plane but he saw panic in her eyes as she turned to him.

  She was beautiful but distant. In her brown eyes was the same spark of suspicion and discontent he’d often seen in Tabinah’s eyes during the months after her marriage had been announced. She had resented everything he’d done for her, all his attempts to make her life as comfortable as possible. He’d failed her, driven her to flee on the back of a horse she wasn’t able to handle. He’d pushed her to it and he would feel guilty for that for ever. Had he pushed Destiny away too?

  ‘A feast isn’t necessary. I would rather leave today—now.’

  ‘That will not be possible. It is tradition here in Kezoban to hold such a feast for a visitor. It will be done and you will attend. I have sent a new abaya for you to wear.’ He couldn’t tell her how significant that abaya was, that the colours were his and that by wearing it everyone would know even before he announced their marriage that he was claiming her as his wife.

  ‘I need to leave now, Zafir. Today.’

  ‘And offend my people? Offend me?’

  Her eyes widened in surprise but otherwise she remained as calm and unruffled as a bird of paradise. Would she really be so calm if she wanted to tell him she was expecting a baby? His baby. His heir. Yet still he trusted Mina’s instincts.

  ‘Can you assure me I will be free to leave after the feast?’ The demand in her voice was clear and he wondered how he was ever going to turn the conversation towards her illness.

  He walked towards her and she stood tall and firm. It was as if she wasn’t carrying such a powerful secret, one that would change their lives beyond recognition. Overnight his duty had changed, become conflicted with all that he’d grown up knowing he had to do. He had as much duty to his child as he did to his country—if not more.

  ‘You will be free to leave the day after the feast—if that is what you want.’ He hesitated, strangely out of his depth, a sensation so new it unnerved him.

  ‘It’s what has to be done.’ She looked at him, a fire in her eyes so completely opposite to the desire he’d seen smouldering within them that he couldn’t help but step towards her.

  ‘You’re right,’ he goaded. ‘We both have our lives to lead, lives that should never have crossed, and now that you have completed your work with Majeed we must return to those lives.’

  ‘Precisely,’ she said and stepped away from him. ‘Now I will leave you to your work.’

  She hadn’t said a thing about being unwell, hadn’t hinted at anything to suggest she might be carrying his child. He couldn’t let her leave Kezoban without knowing for sure. Anger rushed through him and he took a deep breath. He was not used to having information withheld from him, but letting his emotions rule, displaying how he felt, would not help the situation. Calm control was required.

  ‘Destiny.’

  She whirled round and looked at him. ‘Yes?’ Briefly he thought he heard a hint of hope in her voice. The small tremor in that one word pushed him on, that and the fact that he had to know. But he also had to hear it from her. She had to want to tell him. He had to exercise patience, the valuable lesson he’d learnt from the tragedy of losing Tabinah. That dreadful time had taught him that at least.

  ‘Is there anything else?’

  * * *

  ‘No. Should there be?’ Destiny’s stomach turned over. The dark and brooding look in his eyes screamed suspicion. Did he know? Had Mina told him the secret she herself had only just discovered? She was more convinced than ever that the maid knew about the nights she’d spent with the Sheikh.

  ‘I believe that there is.’ He moved towards her and she stepped back as he came close, but breathed a sigh of relief when he walked past her to the large double doors of his office. That relief was short-lived when he turned the key in the lock.

  Expectancy hung in the air as he looked at her. ‘Are you going to tell me why you have been ill these past few days?’

  ‘Heat, I guess.’ The words slipped from her lips but she couldn’t look up at him, couldn’t look directly into the eyes of the man she loved and lie.

  It’s just until you are married, until you’ve kept your promise of duty to your father—and until I know if I can even have this baby.

  She hated doing it, but she couldn’t be the one who stood in the way of his duty. Her mother had paid the price of forcing a man into marriage because of pregnancy; it had all been written in her flowing handwriting. There was no way she was going to force Zafir into any kind of commitment.

  He moved closer to her, his height towering over her, and she had no choice but to look up at him. She could see the dark stubble on his face, the glint of steel in his eyes and the clench of his jaw. Her head began to swim and the nausea she’d pushed successfully away returned with a vengeance.

  Her body became like lead and the sensation of sliding to the floor overpowered everything. Then she felt the strength from Zafir’s arms as he caught her, smelt his scent as she was pressed close against his hard chest and she closed her eyes, giving in to the need for oblivion—her need for him.

  * * *

  When Destiny opened her eyes she was in her room, on the softness of her bed, and Zafir, like a guard, was standing over her at the end of the bed. She glanced quickly around to see if Mina was there.

  ‘We are alone.’ He snapped the words out and she knew his mood had darkened. Alert to the prevailing sense of danger, she forced her weary limbs to sit up on the bed, the soft pillows behind her offering some comfort.

  Still he wore that closed and cold expression and her heart sank. She kne
w she had to tell him not only that she was carrying his child, but that she would be leaving and would never want anything from him. What she couldn’t put into words was her fear and the guilt she felt at not wanting his baby.

  That fear was why she’d immersed herself in her love of horses, never looking for marriage and a family. All she’d ever thought of was that last entry in her mother’s diary. She was scared that she too might have problems during childbirth which could take her life and leave her baby alone—and she knew what that was like.

  ‘Zafir, what we shared was special, but it can never be. We can never be. Our lives are too different.’

  He scowled at her, his eyes narrowing in suspicious anger. He reminded her of the hawks she’d seen him fly once when he had no idea she’d been watching. Just another image she would have to block from her mind, cast to the back of her memory.

  ‘Sometimes changes happen and differences are brought closer, blending to become one.’ His poetic words were sharp and the tone of his voice hard. If he’d said it softly, full of meaning, she would have had to stop herself from telling him that such a change had occurred. They would always be joined by the new life within her. A life she didn’t even know she could give birth to safely because she’d stubbornly refused to be tested, preferring to hide behind the disguise of not wanting to be a mother.

  But those poetic words hadn’t been said with any trace of emotion, not even the smallest hint of the love she felt for him. She couldn’t tell him, not yet. It would be better if he went ahead with the marriage he needed to make and she returned to England, where the payment for her work in Kezoban would enable her to seek the best medical help and, hopefully, reassurance that her fears were not founded in fact but the lasting pain of losing her mother. Only once she knew she could have the baby would she tell him—providing he’d done his duty and married, because she had no wish to repeat the example of her parents.

  ‘I need to go home, Zafir. Back to England.’

  ‘No.’ That one word snapped out and she drew in a breath so sharp she almost couldn’t breathe. Where had the gentle man who’d showed her the joy of lovemaking gone? What had happened to the man who’d kissed her so tenderly she’d wanted to cry? Why had this hard, cold and emotionless man replaced the man she’d fallen so deeply in love with?

  ‘I have to go.’ She leant forward, ignoring the swimming sensation in her head as she did so. The most important thing was to get away, as far away as possible before her heart broke completely.

  ‘That is no longer an option.’ He moved from the foot of the bed, his robes sighing softly and all she remembered was his body as she’d explored him for the first time, touching and kissing him. Heat suffused her cheeks when she finally met his icy gaze as he stood looking down at her, his eyes hard and unyielding. She had to push such crazy thoughts from her mind, had to focus on getting away, back to England.

  ‘But,’ she stammered trying to think through the fog in her mind, ‘I have to go home.’

  ‘You will not leave today.’ His voice deepened and, if at all possible, the hardness in it became more pronounced. ‘You are not well enough to travel that distance, not unless you see a physician.’

  ‘Then I will rest and leave after the feast as planned. I’m just tired and a little exhausted by the heat.’ Through the hurt of losing the man she loved and the shock of discovering the very real possibility that she was carrying his baby, she conceded his last words were at least right. She wasn’t up to going anywhere right now and she did need to see a doctor, but not until she was back in England.

  ‘You will not leave this palace without my knowledge.’

  She looked at him, amazed that the icy tone of his voice as he laid down conditions he had no right to make had become almost arctic. How could a man of the desert, a man so passionate, become so cold? She knew that the little colour her earlier thoughts had put in her cheeks was draining away rapidly as shock settled over her like an icy blanket. ‘Not leave the palace?’

  ‘You look very pale again. Perhaps I should send for my physician?’

  ‘No,’ she blurted out. That was the last thing she wanted. There was no way she wanted anyone knowing she might be carrying Zafir’s child. It was bad enough that Mina suspected, but would a maid be in a position to divulge such a secret? She certainly hoped not. ‘I’m fine. I will rest and leave tomorrow, as I said.’

  ‘You will not be leaving tomorrow or the day after.’ He looked at her, sparks of anger in his eyes, his jaw clenching beneath the finely trimmed beard, and in that moment she knew that her secret was not hers alone any more. He knew. Everything he’d said since she’d opened her eyes made sense now, from the need to rest, to the physician, to the changes that brought differences closer. He knew, but still she challenged him.

  ‘Why not?’

  He folded his arms across his broad chest as he took in a deep breath and a sense of impending doom seemed to breathe from him, enveloping her completely. ‘You will not leave Kezoban. Not when you are carrying my child.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  DESTINY COULDN’T SPEAK, couldn’t even think. To hear Zafir say those words aloud sent a chill down her spine. He knew and, what was worse, he knew she’d kept it from him and that she’d had no intention of telling him. How did she now tell him she didn’t want his child because she’d never been brave enough to have the blood test, even when Milly had? How did she say she might have inherited the same disease which had claimed her mother’s life soon after Milly had been born?

  Her past crowded in on her like a dark storm cloud, heightening the fear she’d been running from since she was a teenager and even more now that she was pregnant. Even though her pregnancy hadn’t been confirmed, Mina’s reaction to her morning sickness meant that clinging to any hope she’d got it wrong, that she wasn’t pregnant with Zafir’s child, was foolhardy.

  ‘No, Zafir. I can’t stay.’ Finally she found her voice and it shocked her to hear the hardness within it. Whether it was in response to Zafir’s cold detachment, a way of protecting her heart from further pain, or that she was still so numb with shock, she didn’t know, but she sounded utterly heartless.

  ‘Do not say that again, Destiny, not when the child that grows within you is my heir.’ The use of her name tricked her into looking into his eyes, their blackness deeper than space and so much colder. An icy chill slipped over her and she shivered, hugging her arms against her as she sat on the bed. Zafir no longer wanted her as he had during those illicit nights together. All he wanted was the child she carried.

  ‘I am not staying. I have to go back to England.’ She held his gaze, the frigid intensity of his almost turning her to ice. How could he be so cold, so unfeeling after all they’d shared? Because he doesn’t love you.

  He stepped nearer to the bed, closer to her. ‘I will not permit it.’

  ‘You can’t keep me here, Zafir. I will not be your mistress, hidden away. I need to go home.’ She couldn’t tell him it was more than that. She was in love with him and she couldn’t tell him the terrifying truth that she didn’t even know if she could have the baby. If she went home right now and had the test it wouldn’t stop the worst results coming back. And then what would she do?

  ‘And you cannot deny me my child.’ The harshness of each word as they were thrown at her made her eyes close against the pain of everything. When she opened them again he was still glaring at her, suspicion and mistrust in his eyes.

  She swung her legs off the bed in such a sudden movement of determination that it not only made her dizzy, it forced Zafir to step back, taking with him that dominating presence and, thankfully, giving her room to think.

  She stood up, trying hard not to grab on to the post at the corner of the bed for support. She couldn’t let him know how weak she felt, how scared and confused she was. She didn’t want to be commanded and controlled by him—or any man.

  There wasn’t any choice. No matter how hard it made her sound, she had to tell him.
She swallowed down the bitter taste in her mouth and looked up at him.

  ‘I cannot think about having this baby at the moment.’ The words sounded strong and firm as they echoed around the room and she had the satisfaction of seeing his heavy brows furrow together.

  ‘Cannot or will not?’ The gritty anger in Zafir’s voice only made her determination not to be pushed into something she couldn’t do even stronger. Whatever he said, she had to go home and take the test. No matter how hard it was going to be.

  ‘What I decide to do is not for you to worry about. You have my word I will be discreet, that this will not affect you in any way.’

  ‘Not affect me?’ The cold, barely controlled anger in his voice almost destroyed her confidence.

  ‘You have your duty, your marriage to make and your life to lead.’ She turned to walk away. She didn’t know where, when his brooding presence filled her suite. If she could just walk away right now, she would. Fear spiked a fizzy kind of confidence into her, the kind she’d never had and she casually tossed her words over her shoulder. ‘And I have mine.’

  ‘Don’t you dare walk away from me, Destiny.’ Command rang in his voice, pushing her that bit further away, making her love for him seem unreal and totally impossible, as if she’d only dreamt it. But if she had truly dreamt about him, he would have loved her too. He would be with her as she faced possibly the worst moment of her life. If he loved her and was there to support her through it as she finally had the tests, could she do it then?

  ‘You are mine and I am not about to let you go yet.’ Each word destroyed that little ray of hope. Of course he didn’t love her. She was just a possession. Those nights they had spent together had been about possession and now he wanted to rule her and the baby.

  Adamant she was doing the right thing, she paid no heed to the warning in his voice, or the vibration of anger, and continued towards the doors which led out onto the terrace, to the very place she’d first thought he would kiss her. That night seemed to belong to another lifetime.