Celia swallowed. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not? I know Salim wants to get married. He’s absolutely charmed by Ben and Hannah and has said several times that he can’t wait to have children. And—” she squeezed Celia’s arm “—anyone would have to be blind not to notice that he’s madly in love with you.”
Celia blew out. “He isn’t, really. We can’t keep our hands off each other, and then it ends in tears. Trust me, it’s a been-there-done-that situation.”
“I don’t know what’s happened between you in the past, but I truly believe things will be different if you tell him about his daughter.”
“So we can get married and be a happy family?” Celia’s voice rose to something between a whine and laugh. “Never happen. He likes me between his sheets, but I’m not what he considers suitable wife material.”
“Perhaps he needs to have some sense drummed into him. As Elan said on the beach that day, sometimes the Al Mansur men can be a tad slow on the uptake. But they need our help. They had a deprived childhood.”
“All that money can buy and very little else.”
“At least after their mother died. They had no family life, just a cruel father bossing them around. No one helped them grow up into decent family men. Salim’s proud and stubborn, I can see that, but he’s got a good heart beating under that long white robe he wears. I think you can dig past all the baggage and find your way into it. Especially once he knows you share a beautiful daughter.”
“Oh, boy.” Celia shoved a hank of hair off her face. “I do want to tell him, but…” The overheard conversation made doubts stretch out like shadows. “Maybe Salim would prefer not to know. He has a whole life planned out. One without me in it.”
“You know what? It doesn’t matter what he has planned. Seriously, it’s not fair to keep something like that a secret. It’s not fair to your daughter, either. Kira will want to know her father one day. Why not now, when there’s still a bright future possible for all of you?”
Celia inhaled a shaky breath. Sarah’s words struck a painful chord of truth inside her. Not that they could live happily ever after, but that she had to tell him, no matter what.
“I’m not optimistic about the bright future, but I swear I’ll tell him tomorrow, come hell or high water.”
Sara smiled. “I guess either is a possibility, given that we’re in a burning desert and on a beach at the same time.” She gave Celia’s arm a supportive squeeze. “Elan and I will be here for you. Everything will turn out okay.”
Doubt sent a cold shiver down Celia’s spine. “I hope so.”
Celia called Salim on his cell first thing in the morning. She didn’t even say hello. She didn’t want to lose her nerve. “Can we drive to the site together at nine?”
“Um, I have a meeting at ten and a…Perhaps Hanif can drive you.”
“Can you meet me at the site?” Maybe that was better. Less chance of causing a major road accident.
“Sure, I can be there by four. I’ll drive you home.”
“Fine.” She hung up, fingers trembling. No turning back now.
As four o’clock rolled around she began to regret not telling him back at the hotel. At least there it was cool and she didn’t have grit under her fingernails and no place to wash it out. She shoved a lock of damp hair off her forehead.
Luckily there weren’t many people around as she’d sent her staff home early. The construction crews had knocked off for the day. A few painters and electricians worked here and there in the complex of elegant white buildings.
The muffled purr of an expensive engine made her skin prickle.
I have something to tell you.
How did you come out and say it? Each time she tried to find the words, it sounded more dramatic and shocking, and she felt more ashamed that she’d kept the truth to herself for so long.
The engine stopped.
He’s here. No turning back now.
She strode toward the parking area in front of the future “marketplace” with her head held high and her courage screwed down tight. “Hi!” She hoped her breezy wave hid the sheer terror throbbing in her veins.
Salim climbed from the car with a warm smile. “Hello, Celia. Things have been busy the last couple of days. I’ve missed you.”
He wore khakis and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, looking deceptively Westernized and infuriatingly handsome. His dark eyes flashed with pleasure, as if he was genuinely pleased to see her.
Which she knew he wasn’t. He just wanted to flush her out of his system like a nasty virus.
Shame he was about to find it had lingering effects—like fatherhood.
“Salim, there’s something I have to tell you.” Her heart hammered against her ribs.
“Oh?” He cocked his head, his expression quizzical. He strode closer, the outline of his sturdy thighs visible inside the thin khakis. A smile tugged at his powerful mouth. “I’m all ears.”
If only he was. Ears would be a lot easier to deal with than bronzed muscle and chiseled cheekbones. “Three years ago…” Her voice trailed off.
Come on, you can do it.
“Yes?”
“A little over three years ago, I had a baby.”
His eyes narrowed. “What?”
“A baby. I gave birth.” Why on earth was she explaining like an idiot? He knew what a baby was.
“I don’t understand.” His proud bearing had stiffened, as if he knew something was up, but he couldn’t figure out what.
Celia swallowed hard. “After our…reunion at the Ritz Carlton, I learned I was pregnant.”
His lips parted, but no words came out.
“We have a daughter. Her name is Kira.”
“Impossible.” The word shot from his mouth.
Celia felt like she’d been slapped. “It’s not only possible, it happened.”
“You never mentioned a child.” He spoke slowly, as if trying to unravel a mystery.
“I didn’t mention her at the time because you were too busy brushing me off like a piece of lint. I tried to tell you. I called your office twice, and all I got in return was a brusque message reminding me that our weekend fling was over, and we’d better get back to our normal lives. So I did, except by then my normal life had a growing baby in it.”
Salim blew out a long breath. “A baby?”
“Yes, the human kind, with two legs and two arms. And dark hair and eyes exactly like yours.”
“It can’t be mine.”
Her spine stiffened. “She’s not an it. She’s a sweet and funny little girl.”
His proud forehead creased. “We always used…protection.”
“Apparently it wasn’t effective.” Her blood heated. How could he argue with her about this?
There was incontrovertible proof. She reached into the back pocket of her jeans and pulled out the photo Sara had seen in her room. She held it out, hand shaking.
Salim looked at the picture like a snake that might bite. Or perhaps a scorpion.
His chest rose as he took in the image. She watched him frown as he raised it to his eyes and stared for a full minute. “Alhamdulillah. She is mine.”
He didn’t take his eyes off the picture. Adrenaline and emotion made Celia so punchy she had to fight the urge to scold him for doubting her.
When he finally looked up, his eyes were wide, stunned. “You should have told me.”
“I wanted to, but you didn’t let me.”
He raised a broad hand and wiped it over his face. “Three years old, and I never knew she existed. You should have found a way.” He growled with indignation.
Which only fuelled her own.
“Why? So you could try to take her away from me? You’d made it abundantly clear that you had no interest in pursuing a relationship with me.”
And she knew from the previous morning’s conversation with Elan that nothing had changed on that score.
She drew in a shaky breath. “I wanted to protect her. T
o protect myself.”
Salim’s brain felt numb, stunned by this new and shocking revelation. A daughter.
The picture was all the proof he needed. Unmistakably a member of the Al Mansur family, the toddler already bore the distinctive mouth they’d all inherited from their mother.
How could Celia keep his own daughter a secret?
She trembled, despite the heat. Anxiety tightened the lines of her lovely face and wound her hands together.
He fought the urge to reach out and reassure her. “You didn’t trust me.”
“How could I? You’d betrayed me once already, when you married another woman without even telling me. Then I got my hopes up again and…” She closed her mouth as if anxious to stop the flow of words that revealed too much.
“I had no idea. How could I?”
“You could have asked.” Her bright gaze blazed with accusation. “You didn’t care how I was doing, if I was even alive, as long as I was out of your life.”
The ugly truth made his skin prickle. Celia got under his skin and made him itch and burn late at night. She made him ache in a way no salves or cold compresses could cure.
And he’d been looking for that cure for years.
“I was just trying to be practical, sensible.” He frowned. What was the sensible course of action now?
He could handle executive problem solving—troubleshooting and issuing orders—but this situation called for tact and delicacy beyond his command.
A daughter. His own child.
Something clawed at his heart, a sense of desperation. His own child was out there, somewhere, without even knowledge of her father.
His anger—mingled with the strong emotions Celia always roused in him—made him want to shout and accuse her, but he knew that was foolish and counterproductive.
Celia brushed a stray wisp of hair from her high forehead. “I was also trying to be practical. It seemed best for both of us. I raise Kira and support her, and you get back to the life you were so keen to keep me out of.”
Salim blew out hard. “It’s not that I wanted to keep you out of my life, it’s that…”
That what?
A vision of his lovely Celia, holding his child—their child—in her arms, assaulted his brain. Unnameable feelings, powerful and hypnotic, stole all words from his mouth.
The sound of an engine made them both turn. A black Mercedes pulled up the curved brick road near them and stopped.
A rear door opened and a woman, dressed in yellow-and-black with a scarf revealing only a few inches of her glossy black hair, stepped out.
He stifled a curse. “A friend of mine. I told her to come here to look around sometime. I had no idea she’d come now. I suppose someone at the office told her I was here.”
Surely the universe was playing some kind of joke on him. He’d been formally courting Nabilah Al Sabah for months and she’d shown no interest in visiting the site. Now that his careful plans for the future had been tossed to the desert wind, she appeared like an ill omen.
This situation was certainly beyond even his considerable competence. As Nabilah walked toward them, elegant silk billowing in the wind, he decided to leave it to the fates to sort things out.
He tucked the precious photo in his pocket and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Nabilah. I’m glad you were finally able to come see the results of all our hard work.”
“I’ve been dying to come for ages. I should have asked for better directions. My driver got lost twice on the way!”
Nabilah had a smile fixed to her beautiful face like it was painted on. Salim had thought this a charming feature in a young lady—until Celia appeared with her ready and mischievous grin.
“Celia, this is my…friend, Nabilah Al Sabah.”
Celia’s whole body stiffened. Which was odd. He’d never so much as mentioned Nabilah or his future plans, to Celia.
“Nabilah, this is Celia Davidson. She’s the landscape architect for the project and…an old and dear friend of mine.” The unexpected need to affirm his relationship with Celia took him by surprise.
Both ladies looked appropriately alarmed as they shared a cautious handshake.
Salim experienced a sudden, intense urge to vanish into the hot desert air.
He decided to act on it.
“I must go. Celia, please give Nabilah a tour of the site.” He shot her a meaningful glance.
He had no idea at all what it meant. Probably something like I can’t believe you just told me I have a daughter. Help.
Not, perhaps, the most heroic approach, but better than several alternatives that threatened the gathered trio.
Celia swallowed. “Sure.” Her voice was hollow.
“Salim, I’d hoped you would give me a tour yourself.” Nabilah’s treacly voice sent a crawl of aversion down his spine. Why had he never noticed that arrogant tilt to her eyebrows before?
“Another time, perhaps. I’m afraid I must run. Celia, I’ll send Hanif to pick you up.”
“Don’t worry, I brought my own car. I suspected I might need it.” Her cool gaze told him to get lost.
And he was more than ready to do so.
Fighting the urge to literally run, he nodded to the two beautiful, frowning women and strode for his car. A daughter.
Kira.
A fist of emotion clutched his heart. A little girl, with big brown eyes and a dimpled chin, who needed a father’s love.
He’d always suspected there was something real—magical and painful at the same time—but undeniable, between him and Celia.
And there was. Now he’d seen her with his own eyes.
He couldn’t feel more disoriented if his world had literally turned upside down and he’d banged his head on the hot desert floor. The unrelenting sun beat down on him from the bright sky, just the way it always did, but suddenly everything had changed. Everything.
His life would never be the same again. He was sure of it.
“Men.” Celia shrugged. “Just when you really need them, they turn and run.”
She glanced at Nabilah to gauge her reaction. The other woman was as tall as she was. Her traditional attire fluttered against a slender yet flawlessly female body.
Nabilah Al Sabah was breathtakingly beautiful. She laughed, a melodious tinkle of sound.
No doubt that was the appropriate reaction for a woman of taste.
Celia fought to control the adrenaline charging through her veins. This was the woman Salim had chosen instead of her. “Well, where shall we start?”
“Wherever you prefer.” Nabilah’s smooth, unlined face revealed nothing but pleasure.
“How about right here?” She swept her arm around, to encompass the space of the marketplace. “As you can see the buildings are up, but still need a few finishing touches. Nearly all of the plantings are in the ground at this point. We’re working on getting them established so we can remove any stakes and other unsightly props before the hotel opens.”
“Fascinating.” Nabilah beamed with more distilled delight. “I’ve always been intrigued by desert horticulture.”
Celia didn’t believe a word of it. “Your English is very good.”
“It should be. I had a private tutor in the language for six years. I also speak French, Spanish and Japanese. It’s important to be well-versed in world languages, don’t you think?”
“Oh, yes.” Celia mustered a chilly smile. “I often wish I spoke Chinese. One of these days I must learn. What aspect of our project are you interested in?”
She’d been unable to resist the possessive “our.” A catty female urge to lay claim to Salim crept through her and sharpened her claws.
Which was idiotic, since this was the woman he intended to marry.
“Oh, I’m interested in all of it.” She shone Celia a syrupy smile. “A lost city in the sands. Rather a fairy tale, don’t you think?”
“Not a fairy tale at all, I assure you. It’s quite genuine. It looks brand-new with all the fre
sh stucco, but underneath the bright veneer the bones of the old city are still there.”
“Along with the history of Salim’s family. His mother’s family, anyway. I believe his father moved here from Egypt.”
Celia hid her surprise. She’d never heard any mention of Egypt in his past. But why would she? Salim told her nothing about his family history. He’d never intended for her to be part of it.
Her heart sank even lower in her chest.
“His mother’s family is very ancient. They controlled most of this area at one time. Their lineage dates back thousands of years.” Nabilah lifted her proud head to survey the landscape.
“I think everyone’s lineage dates back thousands of years, to the beginning of mankind. We wouldn’t be here if it didn’t.”
“You know what I mean.” Nabilah adjusted her headscarf to display more of her luxuriant dark hair. “They were influential.”
Like your darling daddy, no doubt. Celia struggled to keep her claws sheathed. “Are you from Salalah?”
“Oh, no.” Nabilah’s laugh dismissed this idea as ridiculous. “I grew up in Muscat, the capital. For the last few years we’ve been living in Dubai. Salalah’s so sleepy by comparison.”
“It’s spectacularly beautiful, though, don’t you think?”
Celia was beginning to wonder whether Salim had chosen his bride carefully. He openly adored Salalah.
“People do go on about the mountains, and they are unusual for the Arabian Peninsula, but nothing like Switzerland, let’s face it. Have you been to Switzerland?”
She clearly expected Celia to say no, and busied herself with rearranging her black-and-yellow finery.
“Yes, I designed the grounds for a bank headquartered in Zurich. Would you like to see the pool area?” She shot a bright smile at Nabilah.
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