The Sheikh's Last Mistress (Harlequin Presents)

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The Sheikh's Last Mistress (Harlequin Presents) Page 13

by Rachael Thomas


  ‘Destiny.’ Her name angrily rang out, frustration in every syllable. She couldn’t blame him. She wanted to hide from him and the truth of the situation. She stood looking out over the exotic gardens, kept healthy and green by his innovative hydro schemes, something she couldn’t help admire him for. Not that any of that mattered now. His voice rang out, clear and commanding, as he joined her outside. ‘You cannot walk away from me.’

  She wished with all her heart that she could, but instead turned to face him, every limb in her body rigid with anger. How had she ever thought he’d be different from her father? He was even more controlling and had been from the outset. Hadn’t he hidden his identity to get exactly what he wanted?

  ‘You cannot control me, Zafir. I will not be controlled by anyone. Not any more.’

  ‘That is where you are wrong.’ He stood immovable, anger coming off him in waves, the rise and fall of his chest hinting at the battle going on inside him. ‘You are carrying my child, Destiny.’

  She dragged in a deep and heavy breath, desperate to force oxygen into her body, anything that would help her stand upright and face him. She felt so weak she wanted to crumple to the floor but this was a battle that had to be fought right now. She had to get back to England, had to see her family doctor and face up to having the tests done. Whatever came after that she’d face, with Milly’s help and support. She didn’t want Zafir involved and neither did she want him to do anything out of duty.

  ‘It is your illegitimate child, one that will be nothing but a disgrace to you.’ She flung the truth at him, expecting him to recoil from it. He was the Sheikh of Kezoban, the man who ruled the country and openly admitted that duty and honour were the principles by which he lived. He’d hidden their affair, so how could he possibly want to acknowledge his child?

  ‘How can you say that?’ He moved quickly towards her until he stood towering over her, reminding her how it felt to be held by him.

  Somewhere deep inside her a flare of recognition leapt to life, her body swayed towards his and she couldn’t fight the urge to briefly close her eyes. When she opened them and looked up at him, the sparks of anger in his were subdued by desire. Could it be that he too was resisting whatever it was that still hummed dangerously between them? She couldn’t deny it. There was still something there, a connection which threatened to combust, dragging them back into its heated core at any moment.

  She couldn’t give into it. Things had become so much more complicated. He wouldn’t want to support her through this when he was about to make a marriage contract that would be so beneficial to his kingdom.

  ‘We were never anything more than a passing affair.’ She tried to make her words firm, to grind into them the kind of conviction that such a statement needed, but the hint of huskiness deflected that effort and she hoped he hadn’t noticed it. Boldly, she continued, ‘We are just two people who were in need of love and affection and who sought solace in each other’s company.’

  ‘Love and affection?’ His brows lifted in that sexy way he always looked at her when they were alone, instantly disarming her, and as her pulse leapt she realised her error. This man didn’t put any store in love, probably didn’t believe in it; lust was all that had mattered to him. The two weeks she’d spent every night in his arms had been just a distraction for him, amusement before he committed to marriage for the benefit of his kingdom. Hadn’t their conversation the night she’d arrived in Kezoban proved that?

  ‘Well, affection at least.’ Her nerve began to falter, his closeness eroding all her bravado, taking her right back to the beginning, to that first time he’d kissed her after they’d ridden in the desert. ‘Love can never be part of it. You have a marriage to make and I have a life to go back to in England.’

  He nodded slowly and for a moment she thought she saw something resembling disappointment in his eyes before he looked quickly away into the suite as someone knocked then tried to enter. He gave a command in his language, his voice steady and calm, and she was certain it wasn’t an invitation to join them. When he looked back at her, his hard gaze meeting hers, all trace of disappointment had been extinguished; only a fierce intensity remained.

  ‘Were you looking for love, Destiny?’ The question threw her off guard almost as much as the sudden seductive tone of his voice. It was like silk over her skin and she stepped back from him, wanting to distance herself emotionally and physically.

  ‘No.’ Even to her own ears the denial sounded too fast, too vehement and she quickly backed it up. ‘Never that.’

  ‘So affection is all you desire?’

  ‘Yes.’ She tried not to think of the fact that she’d given herself so completely to him. She’d given her virginity and her heart exactly because she loved him, even if she hadn’t recognised it until now. All she’d known was that being with him had felt right, so very right, and she almost stumbled over the untruth of her next words. ‘Just affection.’

  ‘Affection is a very good basis on which to build a marriage.’ His voice had softened slightly, knocking her completely off balance. She didn’t want to hear about his impending marriage, his affection for his chosen bride, not when she loved him so much.

  ‘Yes, I suppose it is, but nothing has changed, not even with the possibility that I’m pregnant. I have to leave, Zafir. The last thing I want is to jeopardise your marriage.’

  Did she want to leave because the thought of him with another woman, taking her as his wife, was too painful? Was it self-protection? Was that why she was so insistent on turning her back on the man she loved?

  No. This wasn’t about her any more—or Zafir. It was about the baby they’d created. She had to know for sure if she had inherited her mother’s antithrombin deficiency and the only way to do that was to go home to England and have the tests she’d refused, despite being urged by Milly not to. She could still hear herself telling her sister that there was no point, that she didn’t want marriage and definitely not children.

  ‘You won’t.’ He pulled her back to the present and closed the distance she’d created between them and she forced herself to stand still, to remain so close she could smell the desert on him and if she was brave enough to reach out, she would be able to touch him. But the fear she’d lived with, silently hanging over her, now demanded attention.

  This was madness. She was in love with a man who didn’t even know the concept of the word, a man who took control and power to the ultimate level and, more importantly, a man who was about to marry another woman.

  To make matters worse, she was pregnant with his child—one she didn’t even know if she could risk having. Her heart ripped in two. Memories of the night she’d been coldly informed she had a new sister but she didn’t have a mother clashed painfully with the present.

  There was no other option. She had to leave and if it meant putting up a fight then she’d do exactly that.

  ‘There is nothing to discuss, Zafir. We are finished. I’m leaving. Today, tomorrow, I don’t care, but I’m leaving.’

  * * *

  ‘You will not leave.’ Zafir held his nerve despite the thud in his chest. He couldn’t let her leave. She was carrying his child. The child was the heir he needed but it was more than that, much more. He needed Destiny. He had been hiding from that fact, running like a man scared ever since their first night together.

  How could he want a woman so much when he’d denied his sister her chance at love and lost her because of it? Had he gone to Destiny that second night because he’d loved her? Or had it been because he’d wanted to make her his? Either way, he’d buried that emotion so deep beneath his need to do his duty he’d been unable to feel it.

  What he felt for her was not just because of the fact that he was the only man to have made love to her. But by giving him her virginity she’d bound them ever tighter, tied them to each other emotionally in a way he’d never known possible and he didn’t want to sever those ties. She was his and his alone.

  It was that shocking revelat
ion that had brought him back to the palace, forcing him to abandon any thought of an arranged marriage. He wanted only Destiny and as soon as he’d realised what Mina knew he was convinced fate had intervened, salving his conscience slightly. Whatever he’d thought his duty would be, it was clear that now his duty was to the new life they’d created. The heir of Kezoban. The idea of being permanently linked to Destiny, the woman he loved, was one he didn’t in the least find unpleasant. Maybe in time she’d learn to love him. Plenty of arranged marriages started with strangers who later become lovers. But they weren’t strangers. They had been lovers.

  ‘I have to go, Zafir.’ The pleading edge in her voice had become tinged with agitation. Was the idea of staying with him that unappealing?

  ‘I will not allow you to leave.’ The growl in his voice made her look cautiously at him, but he had to make her see she couldn’t leave. Not now she carried the heir of Kezoban. He intended to make their child legitimate and acknowledge it in every way possible.

  ‘When does your chosen bride arrive?’ she asked tartly, pulling his focus back to her face. Her obvious intention of riling him hit its mark. ‘I’m sure she wouldn’t want to find your mistress lingering here, especially when I’m shrouded in the speculation of pregnancy. I certainly wouldn’t want to start a marriage with an illegitimate child in the background.’

  ‘At least that is something we agree on.’ He watched as she turned from him to look out over the gardens, dragging her long fingers through her hair in agitation. He wasn’t being fair. She was expecting his child and had been unwell for several days. It wouldn’t do to distress her further. It was time to make his intentions clear. ‘My bride is already here.’

  ‘All the more reason for me to leave right now.’ She turned and looked up him and he thought he heard pain in her voice, felt the agony of saying goodbye, but as she began to walk away he knew he’d imagined it and he caught her arm, keeping her close.

  His pulse, which still raced after she’d mentioned love and affection, thundered wildly in his head at the thought of what he needed to do. For one foolhardy moment he’d thought she loved him, thought that what they’d shared had been love, but she’d soon backtracked and he knew he couldn’t tell her how he felt. Not now.

  ‘You cannot leave, Destiny, not when you are my bride.’

  She looked at him with wide eyes which never left his face and her teeth bit into her lower lip. The urge to stroke his finger over that spot, to soothe the pain, was so intense he had to let her go and step back or he would be in danger of displaying his true feelings and he hadn’t yet begun to understand them.

  He should be used to keeping his emotions under wraps, but telling her how he felt, that he couldn’t imagine his life without her in it, was hard. He’d never loved anyone before, never experienced love. His mother had returned to her family home when his parents’ marriage had broken down, any formal separation impossible, and she’d died a virtual stranger when he was only a teenager. No, he consoled himself, it was far better for Destiny to think he was doing his duty by his child if she herself denounced love so fiercely.

  ‘No,’ she said and stumbled back from him, each pace taking her farther away until she was against the wide archway over the large doors to the garden. ‘I can’t marry you.’

  ‘You can and you will. Tomorrow’s feast of thanks to you will now become our engagement. By nightfall the kingdom will know and before the moon rises full and bright over the desert, you will be my wife.’

  ‘Are you mad?’ she gasped out, her head shaking in denial. ‘We can’t possibly marry.’

  ‘You are carrying my child, my heir, and I have never been saner in my life.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘NO. I CAN’T.’ Destiny tried hard to stop her limbs trembling as she faced the man she’d fallen in love with, the man who was the father of the new life inside her—the man she had to leave. She had no option. The only thing she could do was return home and have the tests and for that she’d need Milly’s support.

  He moved towards her, fierce and powerful, every stride bringing her into contact with that powerful aura. ‘The child you carry is my heir, Destiny, and you will not keep me from my duty as a father. Neither will you leave Kezoban.’

  ‘You can’t keep me here, not when I want nothing other than to go back to my life and leave you to do what you should do. You must make the marriage you’d planned on.’ She knew her voice was trembling and that each word was barely a whisper.

  ‘The child is my heir, Destiny.’ His deep voice was more of a low guttural growl and she bit down hard on her lower lip again, trying to find even the smallest hint of inner strength. Nothing. Every drop of determination had left her, swept away as quickly as if a sandstorm had raged through the room.

  ‘You need to marry for the good of your country and I’m not that, Zafir. I never have been and never will be.’ She had to make him see how impossible his suggestion was. It tugged on her heartstrings to think that he wanted her as his wife but she couldn’t marry a Sheikh, the ruler of a kingdom. She was not of his world and didn’t belong here but, worse than that, she wouldn’t marry him just because he felt duty-bound to do so.

  Zafir glared at her. ‘There is a greater honour at stake now, a far more important duty to be done. One that is much greater than my country. That duty is first and foremost to my child.’

  He moved closer and she pressed herself back against the door, as if the heat of the fire had leapt out at her. ‘No.’ She couldn’t say any more, couldn’t tell him she didn’t want him to feel any sense of obligation towards her or the baby. She didn’t want him to be forced to alter his life and certainly didn’t want him to be forced to marry her out of duty because of their baby.

  Their baby.

  She gulped back the raw emotion that rushed at her from the past. She didn’t know if she could do this, any of it. Just by becoming pregnant and making a man duty-bound to ask her to marry him she was repeating so much of her mother’s history. What if she repeated the rest? What if she encountered the same problems during the birth and left the baby alone in the world? Would he be so keen to do his duty then? Her father hadn’t. He might have provided for her and Milly, but every bit had been grudging and he’d ruled with an iron rod of annoyance at being a single father. She couldn’t risk her child growing up like that.

  These thoughts made her head spin, but she couldn’t give in. She had to convince Zafir he didn’t have any obligations towards her. The only reason she would ever have for marrying him was love—and that was something he scorned.

  ‘Why did you keep your condition a secret?’

  ‘Condition?’ How did he know? ‘What condition?’

  ‘The baby. Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I didn’t want to say anything until I’d seen a doctor—until I knew it was certain.’ His suspicion filled the air, the room heavy with it.

  ‘You do not need to go back to England to do that. I will arrange all the medical care you need. As my wife you will have nothing but the best.’

  Destiny’s temper rose as she realised she’d jumped to conclusions. He didn’t know she might be advised against having the baby but it did make everything he said even clearer. He was asking her to marry him out of a sense of duty. She retaliated, tapping into the strength she’d discovered when she’d struck her deal with him at home in England—anything was better than being forced into a marriage neither of them wanted, especially when she needed to go back home and try to find peace of mind.

  ‘I didn’t tell you because the deal we struck was for two weeks, not the rest of my life.’

  Fury filled those dark eyes, making them narrow in anger. ‘The deal we struck?’ The incredulity in his voice was clear and it cut through her dying heart, but it was for the best. If he thought she was so mercenary that she’d use her pregnancy to barter with him, then he would send her from Kezoban faster than she could gather her packed bags.

  As he looked at
her, his eyes glittering and hard, fear prickled over her. What would he do next? Would he shout at her, march from the room after a torrent of heated abuse, just as she’d often seen her father do with her stepmother? Yet more proof that love needed to be the only reason for a marriage.

  Instead he pulled out the chair from the table set in the shade of the terrace of her suite. With deliberate slowness he sat, leant back, placed his elbows on the arms of the chair and linked his tanned fingers together in front of his chest. The cold discipline was so unexpected she could only stare at him, unable to say anything.

  ‘Sit.’ The command was strong, his voice firm, the icy deliberateness of it a total contrast to the cooling heat of the sun as it began to sink lower over the desert beyond the palace walls, but still she ignored it, standing defiantly.

  ‘We have much to discuss and I will not begin until you sit.’ The aura of power shrouded him like a cloak and, even though she had nothing to discuss, she pulled out the other chair and sat opposite him, crossing her arms over her stomach, as if to protect the life within. He glanced down at her arms, a flicker of annoyance on his handsome face, then he looked back up at her, his eyes colder than she’d ever seen them.

  ‘Nothing you can say will change my mind, Zafir.’

  ‘If our time together has been about your financial gain, I will make a deal with you now that will ensure you live in luxury for the rest of your life, provided our child is raised as the legitimate heir to the kingdom of Kezoban.’

  The coldness of his voice told her she’d been successful in touching that open nerve she’d uncovered. He was so furious, ice-cold, almost devoid of any trace of emotion. But she had one more blow to deliver, one that hurt her to think of it, let alone say it, but it was born of the fear from that last entry in her mother’s diary.

 

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