Claimed for the Desert Prince's Heir

by Heidi Rice

  He’d opened up so much in the last three weeks, she’d seen a softer, more relaxed side to his personality. And she’d loved meeting that man, getting to know him. But why did it suddenly feel as if that man had disappeared?

  Stop freaking out. You’re still suffering from mild shock yourself.

  Two babies was a lot to contemplate.

  ‘How are you?’ he asked, his eyes narrowing as he studied her face.

  ‘I’m fine. I’m great,’ she said, wanting to reassure him, even if she was feeling a little weary. And some of her own fears, about the burden of motherhood and how she was going to cope with bringing up two children instead of one, had resurfaced.

  As excited as she was about this pregnancy, she also knew there would be struggles ahead. But she was determined to be positive. No matter what. One thing she knew for sure, nothing on earth would make her want to abandon these babies the way her own mother had abandoned her.

  ‘Don’t lie,’ he said, reading her too easily. ‘Come here.’ Lifting his arm, he beckoned her towards him. ‘Sit next to me,’ he suggested. He unlocked her seatbelt and refastened her into the seat next to his. Then wrapped his arm around her.

  She placed her head on his shoulder as directed, and listened to the comforting beat of his heart as her eyelids drooped.

  ‘Get some sleep,’ he murmured, placing a kiss on top of her hair.

  She snuggled into his arms, the anxiety at his reaction—and her own irrational fears—fading as she drifted into an exhausted sleep.

  They arrived in Cambridge at nightfall. After a light meal in the living room of their suite, he insisted on carrying her into the bedroom, undressing her and feeding her one of the iron tablets the obstetrician had prescribed.

  She was so tired she could barely lift her arms, let alone persuade him to join her in their bed. But as he kissed her forehead, she thought she heard him whisper, ‘Sorry.’

  Don’t be ridiculous, Kaz.

  He was her husband now, the father of her babies. Both of them.

  A weary smile lifted her lips as her eyelids shut.

  Tomorrow they would travel together to Narabia. She couldn’t wait to see Cat to tell her the news about the twins.

  And then she would meet his people as his princess. What could her husband possibly have to be sorry for?

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Dear Kasia

  I have returned to Kholadi. I think the desert is not the best place for you, especially in your present condition, so I have arranged for a property to be purchased in Cambridge, where you will stay for the foreseeable future.

  Internet connectivity is not good in the kingdom, but I will endeavour to contact you soon.

  Dean Walmsley has been informed that your new research as well as the PhD will be fully funded by the Kholadi Grant to the faculty.

  R

  KASIA BIT HER lip so hard she could taste blood, desperately struggling to control the choking sobs lodged under her breastbone ever since Raif’s assistant had arrived five minutes ago to deliver his letter.

  Not letter, she thought as she tapped Cat’s name into her phone, Raif’s instructions.

  She had only just recovered from her regular bout of morning sickness and was eating some dry toast and wondering where Raif could possibly have disappeared to when the knock had come on the door of their suite. She hadn’t even noticed that Raif’s luggage and all his toiletries were gone until after she’d opened the cream envelope with her name written across it in his bold script and had read the devastating contents.

  So businesslike, so polite, so unemotional.

  Shock had come first. How could the man who had carried her to bed and undressed her so tenderly have written such a note? Had he been making plans even then to abandon her? He must have been.

  Next had been all the furious questions. Why had he left her here? Why hadn’t he spoken to her about his decision? Was she not entitled to a say in where or how she should live?

  But beneath the questions was the devastating sense of déjà vu, propelling her back to a time in her life it had taken her many years to recover from. And all the fears she had kept so carefully at bay—on discovering her pregnancy, when agreeing to their hasty marriage, after realising she was having not one baby but two—leapt out of the darkness, too.

  Suddenly she was that little girl again, small and defenceless, insignificant and unloved. That little girl who could never be enough, watching her mother leave without a backward glance as her grandmother squeezed her fingers.

  ‘Do not fear, little one, your mother will return soon.’

  But her mother hadn’t returned. Kasia had waited and waited. And the only conclusion was that if her mother had ever loved her, she hadn’t loved her enough.

  The choking sob rose up her torso as the call connected.

  Cat’s voice came on the line—calm but concerned. ‘Kasia, is everything okay?’

  ‘I’m sorry I called so early,’ Kasia said, the words scraping her throat as the sob pushed painfully against her larynx. It was before dawn in Narabia, she realised.

  ‘Kasia, what’s wrong? Has something happened?’

  ‘He’s left me. He doesn’t want me, Cat. I knew he didn’t love me, but I thought maybe...’ The words spewed out, expelled on a wave of desperation, but were soon overrun by the choking sobs that racked her body in debilitating gut punches of anguish.

  The crying came in waves, loud and raw and exhausting as she sank to the floor by the lavish four-poster bed and pressed her forehead to her knees, trying to hold in the pain, the devastation.

  He’s gone. He won’t return. He’s ashamed of me, as she was. Ashamed to have me meet his people. I did something wrong. But what did I do? How can I make it right? How can I be better so he’ll love me? So he won’t abandon me?

  The questions that had tormented her endlessly as a child returned, like big black crows pecking at the scar tissue that had grown over the gaping wounds left by her mother’s desertion.

  She wrapped her arms around her knees and pressed the phone to her ear. But the choking sobs refused to stop, turning the anguish to agony.

  ‘Shhh... Shhh... Kaz, you have to breathe... Try breathing.’

  Her best friend’s voice—soothing but firm—pushed through the fog of devastation. Chasing the crows back as the heaving sobs finally turned to ragged panting.

  At last exhaustion settled over her, she simply didn’t have the strength to cry any more, her body wretched.

  ‘Kaz, are you still there?’ Cat said, a light in the darkness threatening to engulf her.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, her voice broken and raw but still there. She hadn’t dropped off the abyss. That had to count for something.

  ‘Now you need to tell me exactly what’s happened,’ Cat said. ‘Can you do that?’

  Kasia nodded. Then realised that Cat couldn’t hear a nod, but as she gathered the strength to form an audible reply she heard a groggy voice in the background, asking what was wrong.

  She’d woken up the Sheikh now, too. But before she had a chance to apologise she heard Cat’s whispered reply to her husband.

  ‘Your brother has been a monumental ass and upset Kasia. She’s distraught. Next time I see him, I may have to shoot him myself.’

  And then Zane’s mumbled—and utterly dry—response. ‘If he’s hurt Kasia, perhaps she should do the honours. But tell her not to kill him, he’s got a baby to support.’

  Kasia dropped her head back onto the bed, the exchange between her two best friends making the strangest thing happen. A bubble of hope swelled under her breastbone. She placed her palm over the slight curve of her belly where her babies slept. Her and Raif’s babies.

  The devastation receded, to be replaced by something else flowing through her veins. Something it had taken her years to acquire the first time s
he’d been abandoned. Resilience.

  The pain and anguish were still there. What Raif had done had been callous and cruel, he hadn’t considered her feelings, hadn’t even bothered to discuss his decision with her.

  Her scars were rawer and fresher now than they had been. The fears real and vivid. But she wasn’t a little girl any more, she was a grown woman, about to have two babies of her own. Curling up in a ball and letting these feelings defeat her wasn’t an option any more. And oddly it was the knowledge that she could recover from this blow, because she had before, that gave her the strength to read out Raif’s note to Cat.

  Cat’s assessment was stark and unequivocal. ‘Kasia, that’s ridiculous, he can’t just decide these things for himself without even talking to you. In a marriage there has to be communication. I know you’ve only just fallen in love but—’

  ‘He doesn’t love me, Cat.’ She forced the words out. However humiliating, however debilitating she had to own them, she realised. Because she had made mistakes, too. In her optimism and excitement about the pregnancy, about the man she’d discovered in the past weeks, she’d let her heart rule her head, had pushed all her fears under the carpet and married Raif without having any real commitment from him that he could ever love her back. ‘And I’m not sure he ever will,’ she added.

  Her friend’s sigh was audible. ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘Because he made it clear to me he doesn’t believe in love—that he thinks it’s nonsense. He...’ She sighed. ‘He had a miserable childhood, Cat. You know most of the details, I’m sure, from Zane. I knew...’ She heaved a breath through her constricted lungs, the tears now for Raif as much as for herself. ‘I knew it had hardened him, had made him cynical and determined never to trust anyone, but I thought...’ She pressed her palm to her forehead, where a headache was starting to form. ‘I still thought we had a chance, which is why I agreed to marry him, but if he doesn’t want to share every part of his life with me, what real chance do we have...?’

  ‘Okay, Kaz, listen, maybe I’m being the starry-eyed romantic now. But the note you read to me doesn’t sound as definite as that. He’s a guy and a prince, he likes to be in control, so he’s making decisions for you both, but he doesn’t necessarily know what the right decisions are. Did you tell him you love him?’

  Kasia swallowed heavily, the rawness in her throat returning. ‘No.’

  She’d never spoken to him about her feelings or his. How could she accuse him of not communicating properly when she’d failed to do so herself?

  ‘I thought that once we shared a life together, love would grow,’ she continued, trying to explain the unexplainable to her friend. ‘In New York and Paris, the time we spent together made me so happy and I think it made him happy, too. I fell in love with him but I didn’t want to put pressure on him by making a declaration that might not be returned straight away...’

  ‘I think maybe now is the time to put pressure on him. How can you know where you stand otherwise? And how can he?’

  ‘I’m not sure I have the courage.’ Kasia’s heart thudded painfully against her ribs, that broken child coming out of hiding again. ‘I don’t want to risk another rejection. What if it breaks me?’

  ‘It won’t,’ Cat said, with complete certainty. ‘You’re a strong woman, Kasia, much stronger than you think. You survived your mother’s abandonment when you were just four years old. And let’s face it, you can’t possibly stay in Cambridge for goodness knows how long, waiting for him to deign to contact you. That’s madness. You need to know where you stand. And he needs to stop acting like a dictatorial ass.’

  Kasia felt a small, sad smile split her lips at the fierce determination in Cat’s tone. Cat was such a good friend. Strong and supportive, always.

  She wished she had Cat’s confidence and her courage.

  But then she rubbed her hand over her abdomen and imagined the babies growing there. She wanted to give them the start in life both she and Raif had lacked, of being cherished in the bosom of a loving relationship.

  If there was a chance for that, didn’t she owe it to her children to fight for it?

  She would find the courage to go to Raif in the desert, where he had decided she didn’t belong. She would defy his orders and tell him how she truly felt about him—and what she wanted in return. She would reach for the stars and if she fell short, if they fell short, at least she would know she had tried.

  But whatever happened, she would survive, because she had to.

  For her children, as well as for herself.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  ‘CHIEF KHAN, an outrider has arrived from the Golden Palace—the Sheikh’s party is coming.’

  Raif straightened from his position—knee deep in mud—and threw down the shovel he had been using to dig a well with a group of his tribesmen.

  The hard physical labour of setting up a new encampment had helped get him through the last few days. Ever since he had been forced to leave his wife sleeping in a hotel bed thousands of miles away.

  The boy’s shout in Kholadi confused him, though. What was Zane doing, coming for an official visit to the new encampment without informing him first?

  They had been in brief contact a week ago when Zane had sent a text to congratulate him on his marriage. And Kasia’s pregnancy. But that had been before their visit to the obstetrician in London. Before the fear for her safety had become so huge that Raif had struggled to contain it.

  The shame had consumed him every day since, and the agony of loss, which he did not understand. How could you lose what you had never truly possessed? Kasia did not belong to him. She had married him out of duty, and kindness, would bear his children for him—and in return he had put her life in danger.

  Was he really any different from his father? A man who had used women for his own pleasure and then discarded them?

  Because of his hunger, his need, he had planted two babies inside her slim, fragile body. The doctor had said they were too big. He was a foot taller than her, it stood to reason his children would be too large.

  He had killed his own mother, and now his children would kill theirs.

  Rinsing his hair and chest in the bucket of water they kept next to the well, he picked up his shirt, annoyed at his brother’s unannounced visit. He’d be damned if he’d get dressed in anything more formal when he had not been given prior warning. Zane would just have to see him as he was.

  But as he picked up the dirty shirt to put it on, a thought occurred to him—and panic tore at his insides.

  What possible reason could Zane have to come all this way—unless there was something wrong?

  With Kasia.

  Did Zane have news of his wife? Had something happened to her, or the children he had planted inside her? Had they killed her already?

  Dropping the shirt, he ran, his heart thundering, his ribs aching with the pain that had gripped him for days—and the longing that tangled in his stomach like a snake and would not let him sleep.

  He’d left her in Cambridge so she would be safe. But how could she ever be safe when he had put her life in such grave danger?

  At last he reached the front of the encampment, just in time to see the pack of about twenty horses gallop over the ridge.

  He spotted Zane at the front of the party, sitting easily on his horse, Pegasus, but next to him was a woman, dressed in traditional Narabian style to protect her from the sun.

  Catherine, it had to be. Zane had brought his queen with him. Kasia’s best friend. To give him the terrible news.

  His whole body began to shake as he sent up frantic prayers—to any god that might listen.

  Please let her be safe. I will never touch her again, I swear.

  The longing and the desperation seemed to tear at his soul as the horses approached, picking their way down the rocky dune. The female rider arrived first, her smaller
horse stopping a few feet away. But then she tugged away the headdress masking her face and her wild hair appeared like a cloud of black silk.

  Her darker skin registered. That exquisite shade that smelled of jasmine and spice. Not Catherine. Kasia. His wife. His woman.

  The woman he dreamed about every night. Was he dreaming still? Hallucinating? Was she a ghost? How could she be here? He had left her in Cambridge, to protect her. How could she be in the desert? Riding a horse?

  He stared, unable to move, the longing he had tried to dismiss, to live with washing through him on a wave of emotion so strong he could do nothing to stop it as his hungry gaze devoured her beautiful face, the guarded expression, the round amber eyes, the lush lips now pressed into a determined line. But behind the determination he could see the same longing, the same compassion that was making his own breathing ragged.

  Was he going mad? Was this the penance he would have to pay? For his many sins against her? To see her one last time, with love in her eyes, and know it could never be real? That he didn’t deserve it to be real?

  ‘Kasia?’ he whispered. ‘Is it you?’

  Her eyes widened. ‘Yes, Raif, it’s me. Now, could you help me down? It’s been a long ride.’

  The sound of her voice broke the spell holding him captive. And the longing, the yearning, the joy and the confusion suddenly crystallised into one unstoppable thought as he marched towards her and grasped her round the waist.

  She rested her hands on his shoulders as he whisked her off the horse and cradled her against his naked chest.

  ‘You are well? The babies are well?’ he asked, the tremble of terror in his voice impossible to hide.

  ‘Yes, Raif, I’m okay, just a little tired.’

  She was real and solid, but he could barely comprehend the joy of that—or the inevitable tug of arousal that would never die—around the rising tide of his fury.