Scandal: His Majesty's Love-Child

by Annie West

How gullible she was. Even after his treatment of her, she’d expected better.

  ‘You deny my situation has anything to do with your claim to be pregnant?’

  ‘Claim?’ Annalisa remembered the days she’d fretted that pregnancy was possible. The fatigue and nausea. The panicked knowledge that she had to make decisions not just for herself now, but for her baby. Her hands clenched as she resisted a never before felt urge to slap someone.

  ‘I’m pregnant. It has nothing to do with you being rich or the brother of the King. I only found that out when your mother told me.’

  ‘And you couldn’t resist sharing your juicy news with her, right?’ His dark scowl was furious.

  ‘I told her nothing!’

  One eloquent eyebrow rose in disbelief and he crossed his arms over that broad chest, the epitome of male scorn.

  Suddenly she felt dreadfully small and powerless.

  ‘Then why was she so solicitous?’ he pressed. ‘Why leave us alone against every rule of protocol?’

  Horrified, Annalisa widened her eyes. Had the Queen guessed? Her stomach lurched in dismay. Bad enough sharing the news with Tahir. She wasn’t ready for the Queen’s censure too.

  ‘I was sick when we arrived. Morning sickness…’

  ‘You didn’t drop any coy hints?’

  His words lashed her, his distrust stinging like the blast of a sandstorm on bare skin.

  Annalisa wouldn’t stay to be insulted. She’d done what she must.

  But as she marched past he reached out and snagged her wrist. His touch was shocking heat against her flesh, making her pulse gallop.

  ‘Let me go. Or am I supposed to make obeisance to such an important person first?’ She’d never been one for sarcasm and her furious words surprised even her.

  Tahir peered down into her face. ‘Where will you go?’

  ‘To my aunt’s house. I have to pack for my flight.’ She tried to tug free but his hold tightened implacably.

  She breathed deep. ‘Please, let me go.’ His closeness confounded her outrage, weakening her fragile composure.

  ‘You can stay here,’ he said abruptly.

  ‘No! There’s no need.’ She stepped back but he followed, crowding her. His scent invaded her nostrils and to her consternation she felt a flicker of response to its subtle allure.

  ‘There’s every need,’ he assured her. The glint in his eyes sent a shiver of doubt racing down her spine. ‘We have things to discuss.’

  Annalisa looked away. ‘I won’t stay where I’m not wanted.’ He’d made it clear he thought she was inventing the story of her pregnancy.

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t put it that way.’ His voice dropped to a silky burr. His thumb stroked her sensitive inner wrist, brushing back and forth till her pulse raced unevenly.

  Startled, she met eyes turned bright with desire.

  Her breath caught in her throat as an answering tide of warmth spread out from her womb. One look from half-lidded eyes, one word in that bedroom voice and she melted!

  ‘I’m going.’

  Tahir shook his head, that flash of hunger doused as if it had never been. He looked grim.

  ‘My family and I owe you hospitality for saving my life. Besides…’ his long fingers tightened on her wrist ‘…I’ll only have you brought back. Far easier if you stay.’

  ‘Brought back?’ Indignation warred with fury. ‘Just who do you think you are?’

  He inclined his head, sketching a graceful gesture with one hand.

  ‘I’m Sheikh Tahir Al’Ramiz, King of Qusay.’ His eyes flickered in grim amusement. ‘I’m your sovereign lord.’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  FOR the first time Tahir relished the fact he was King.

  Because Annalisa couldn’t escape till he was ready to let her go. He could demand her obedience.

  Because he revelled in the power it gave him over this one woman. He felt a ripple of primitive pleasure any civilised man should abhor.

  What did that say about him?

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. Why couldn’t the elders and citizens of Qusay understand they supported a flawed man as their monarch?

  He remembered the dismay on Annalisa’s face when she’d learned who he was. Busy in her outlying province, with her packing and her goodbyes, she’d heard Kareef had renounced the kingship, but not what had followed.

  She hadn’t known Tahir’s identity.

  The doubts that had swarmed on hearing her revelation had disintegrated in the face of her shock. Cynicism engendered by grasping lovers and false paternity suits had melted as he’d watched her struggle with the gravity of her situation.

  Pregnant with the monarch’s child.

  No wonder she’d paled. She’d swayed, the dazed look in her velvet eyes evoking a protectiveness he’d known only once before. When he’d deliberately invited her scorn at the oasis so she could be free of him.

  If only he still had such strength of mind.

  He stared across the shadowed bedroom, past billowing curtains drawn aside to let in sweet night air. Moonlight covered the wide bed, gleamed on pale bare arms, caressed the dark fall of long hair across the pillow.

  What sort of man was he?

  One who couldn’t master himself to keep away from a woman who despised him. Had he no shame? No scruples?

  Yielding to temptation was a speciality of his.

  Unable to sleep after hours working on official documents, he’d given in to restlessness and prowled the corridors. Only to find himself outside the suite set aside for the woman who was officially his mother’s guest.

  Here he was, a voyeur, rooted to the spot by the sight of her, fast asleep. She didn’t wear silk or lace like his usual lovers. Just a white cotton nightshirt. Yet she looked utterly seductive and he was hard with wanting.

  Tahir passed his hand over his face again. An honourable man wouldn’t have entered her chamber.

  He’d given up being honourable a lifetime ago.

  His lips twisted in a savage grimace. What irony he should be named Tahir: ‘pure’. He hadn’t been pure in thought, word or deed since adolescence.

  What business had he in this woman’s chamber? A woman who was decent and trusting.

  ‘Who is it?’ Her voice was a thready whisper.

  He stepped forward into silvery light.

  ‘It’s only me.’ His mouth tightened derisively. That was meant to reassure her?

  ‘What do you want?’ She curled higher in the bed, drawing the sheet to her chin. Her defensive move amused and annoyed him. He hadn’t yet stooped to attacking unwilling women.

  ‘To see you.’ It was simply the truth. But the need that had dragged him from the other side of the palace was neither simple nor straightforward.

  In the dark he felt her regard, saw her lift her chin belligerently. ‘You shouldn’t be here.’

  Once, the knowledge that he broke the rules would have been an incitement, prompting him to outrageous action. But he’d barely given the proprieties a thought, simply yielded to his need to be with her.

  ‘Your flight has been cancelled,’ he said. ‘The money will be refunded to your account.’

  ‘You had no right to do that.’ She sat up, propping a pillow behind her, and he caught sight of her lush, round breasts, outlined by fine cotton. His groin tightened.

  ‘We need to discuss our options. We can’t do that if you’re in Scandinavia.’ He should be grappling with the issue of her pregnancy, not this potent lust.

  She folded her arms. ‘You still had no authority.’

  He stepped nearer, drawn by her sleep-husky voice. ‘I’ve arranged for you to see an obstetrician.’

  ‘I can organise that. You have no right to take over my life, forcing me to stay here.’

  She sounded huffy. He was relieved to hear the spark of energy in her voice. She’d been so wan earlier. Was it normal for a pregnant woman to look worn to the bone? Or was it shock at discovering his identity that had sapped her strength?


  ‘As far as the world is concerned, you are my mother’s guest. What could be more pleasant?’ He paused, acknowledging the need to keep Annalisa close was about his own desire as much as necessity. ‘Now it’s done, and you can reassure yourself everything’s all right.’

  ‘Or is it that you still don’t believe I’m pregnant?’

  He shook his head. When he’d heard her news he’d thought the worst, remembering the lengths women had gone to in order to snag his attention and his money. But within minutes he’d realised she wasn’t bluffing. Annalisa was light-years from the sort of women with whom he usually consorted.

  That was why the memory of their night together had burned indelibly into his consciousness. His gaze followed her lush curves under the pale sheet.

  ‘I believe you, Annalisa.’

  ‘Good.’ Her voice was strained. ‘Now you’d better go.’

  ‘You wouldn’t like me to stay and soothe you back to sleep?’ One step took him to the bed. If he reached out…

  ‘No!’ Her voice held a telltale breathlessness that stirred the devil inside him, heating his blood.

  ‘Perhaps I should persuade you.’ He paused to drag in a surprisingly unsteady breath. ‘I could, you know.’

  He’d been taught by the best. Even his first sexual partner, the gorgeous girl he’d yearned for in his gullible teens, hadn’t been the innocent he’d imagined. She’d enthusiastically shown him a myriad of ways to share pleasure before he’d discovered she’d bedded him not for affection but for his father’s money.

  And that he’d shared her with the old man.

  The taint of that discovery had left him determined never to fall for anything approximating female innocence.

  Until Annalisa.

  ‘Is that why you’re here? You want a change from your glamorous lovers?’ Her voice dripped disdain.

  She couldn’t know how right she was. He yearned for her as he’d never yearned for any of the seductive beauties he’d bedded.

  He couldn’t recall feeling so hungry for a woman.

  He stroked a finger along her bare arm, feeling her shiver in awareness. Instead of yanking her arm away she stilled. Tahir stiffened, iron-hard in arousal.

  ‘How many have there been, Tahir? Dozens? Hundreds?’

  ‘I’m no saint,’ he growled, annoyed at her insistence on talking.

  ‘I gathered that,’ she murmured. ‘I looked you up on the Internet this evening, since I had a name to search for.’

  He froze at her frigid tone.

  ‘Is it true you dated all the finalists in that Caribbean beauty pageant last year, in between closing a major business deal?’ He watched her shift beneath the sheet and imagined his hands on her.

  ‘The reports were exaggerated,’ he murmured. A little.

  ‘So is there a chance you’ve given me anything else, as well as a baby?’

  For an instant he didn’t follow her logic. Then his head reared back. ‘You really are a doctor’s daughter, aren’t you?’ Annoyance warred with reluctant admiration at her temerity. No one spoke to him like that—ever. ‘I may be reckless, Annalisa, but I’m not completely foolhardy. I have a clean bill of health.’

  ‘I’m glad. For the sake of our child.’

  Our child.

  The reminder was a cold douche to his libido and he straightened away from the bed. He’d spent the last half-hour ignoring that complication. Far easier to focus on the delicious Annalisa than face the reality of a ready-made family.

  Tahir didn’t do family.

  Couldn’t do family.

  He was a loner. Had been all his adult life. He had nothing to offer a child or a long-term partner.

  He’d probably take after his unlamented father when it came to parenting. What if that defective gene had passed from the old man to him? Certainly he’d followed the old devil’s footsteps in courting vice. Had his father seen that flaw in Tahir’s personality from the first? Was that what had inspired such hatred of his own son?

  The notion sent an icy shiver through his gut.

  He’d never inflict his father’s brand of paternal discipline on any child. Never risk that tainted strain appearing and harming an innocent.

  He turned on his heel and strode for the door, his stomach churning. ‘We’ll talk later.’

  ‘But not here,’ she said quickly. ‘I don’t want you in my room. Ever.’

  Tahir paused, the muscles across his back and shoulders tightening as if in response to a blow.

  It was a sensation he hadn’t felt for years. He couldn’t remember it hurting this much.

  ‘As you wish, Ms Hansen. I won’t set foot in your room unless invited.’

  Annalisa watched him go, her hand at her mouth to stop herself calling him back. She didn’t want him here.

  So why had she waited, quivering in anticipation, to see if he’d do more than stroke her arm? If he’d caress her properly?

  Properly! There was no properly between them. She was pregnant with what would be his illegitimate child. She was a commoner and he a king.

  He’d probably gone to meet some glamorous woman who’d be at home in the bed of a spoiled, aristocratic playboy.

  What she’d read on the web had ripped the scales from her eyes. If a quarter of it was true Tahir was a man she couldn’t begin to understand. A financial marvel, reckless gambler and lover of epic reputation. He strode through the ballrooms, boardrooms and bedrooms of at least three continents, taking what he wanted and moving on.

  Stories about him were legion, but there was one common thread. He was a loner, never linked for long with any lover, not burdened with close friends or business partnerships. A man who needed no one.

  And the man she’d met in the desert?

  He hadn’t been real. He’d been the product of Tahir’s weakened state and extraordinary circumstances. He’d bedded her for the novelty of it. She couldn’t be more different from the sexy women draped on his arm in the media reports.

  The knowledge cramped her chest and she drew her knees up tight, curling into a ball.

  Pregnancy was an enormous responsibility. Add to that the fact that she couldn’t quash this craving for a man who saw her as an amusement and she was in deep trouble.

  She’d even imagined something dark and troubled behind Tahir’s careless demeanour. Had his nightmares in the desert been proof of that, or simply a fantasy brought on by delirium? She wanted to probe, uncover and confront the bleakness she sensed beneath his casual, sexy attitude.

  She wanted to believe he cared.

  Annalisa shook her head. She created excuses where there were none. She was out of her depth with Tahir.

  In future she’d remember it.

  ‘This way, please.’ The footman bowed and Annalisa hesitated on the threshold of her suite. For days it had been a haven as she struggled to absorb the implications of her situation.

  This period of peace and quiet had been what she’d needed. Sheikha Rihana, Tahir’s mother, had been a daily visitor and, contrary to Annalisa’s fears, she’d remained friendly rather than judgemental. The older woman must know of the obstetrician’s visit yet she hadn’t mentioned it. Did she guess at the fraught relationship between her guest and her son? That it was his child Annalisa carried?

  They talked of everything but Tahir, and it felt as if a rapport had developed between them. Something more than good manners and hospitality. As if Rihana was as grateful for Annalisa’s company as she was for Rihana’s.

  As for Tahir, after invading Annalisa’s privacy that night, and hinting he’d seduce her, she’d expected to confront him the next morning.

  Instead he’d left the capital on urgent business.

  Only his personal intervention had saved regional diplomatic talks from foundering. Everyone sang his praises. But Annalisa suspected he’d found it a convenient reason not to face her.

  Each day she braced herself to see him but he remained absent.

  That told her all she needed to kn
ow about the importance of this baby to him. Her importance.

  ‘Madam?’ The footman waited, his face expressionless. Did he wonder about her presence here? ‘If you’ll follow?’

  Annalisa straightened her spine and stepped forward, following obediently down the wide arched corridor.

  She couldn’t hide for ever. Especially from her own kin. Yet when news had arrived that her uncle Saleem was here, her stomach had knotted. She’d never liked her aunt’s husband. If there’d been an alternative to staying in his house when she’d arrived in Shafar she’d have taken it.

  What did he want?

  He’d never approved of her ‘western’ ways. Unlike the rest of the family, his relationship with her and her father had never been good. This couldn’t be a social call.

  Her tension increased as they progressed through the palace. Past sumptuous apartments and breathtakingly beautiful courtyards. Each inch was exquisite, from the inlaid floors to the luxurious furnishings and the view over a perfect indigo sea. They reached the public reception rooms where solemn visitors watched her with thinly veiled interest. Anxiety skated up her spine.

  At every step she felt like an interloper in a world of privilege, prestige and protocol.

  ‘Here you are, madam.’ The servant opened gilded double doors. ‘Refreshments have been provided. Please ring the bell if you need anything.’ He stood back so she could enter, then shut the doors with quiet precision.

  Saleem stood, feet wide, in the centre of the room. If he was awed by his surroundings he didn’t show it. Instead he stood proud, a tall man, lantern-jawed and swarthy.

  ‘Hello, Uncle. It’s good of you to visit. My aunt hasn’t come with you?’ Annalisa kept her tone light, despite the chill that enveloped her as he scrutinised her like a beetle under a microscope.

  ‘I came to see the King.’ He paused on the word, investing it with distaste. ‘I’m told he’s not in, so I asked to see you instead.’

  Annalisa stiffened at his bristling disapproval. This wasn’t going to be good.

  ‘Would you like a seat?’ She gestured towards a group of elegant couches around a low table groaning with delicacies.

  ‘You make yourself at home here, miss. As if you have every right to do so.’