Pregnant by the Desert King

by Susan Stephens

  As they stared at each other, a quiver of arousal tracked down her spine. He was enjoying this, she thought. And so was she. A lot more than was wise. Why had this extraordinary-looking man landed in the middle of an ordinary day? Time to take a tougher line. ‘You sat me down, force-fed me coffee, so now you have to pay for the pleasure of my company with information.’

  ‘You think?’ Few women had ever made him laugh as Lucy did. Being so irreverent and funny was part of her charm. ‘You won’t get round me,’ he warned when she pulled a mock-disappointed face.

  ‘Why not?’ she complained in the same style. ‘Is what you do for a living classified information? Maybe you’re a secret agent,’ she speculated with a lift of her finely drawn brow.

  ‘And maybe I’m a man drinking coffee in a café and minding his own business as best he can...’

  ‘How boring. I prefer my version.’

  ‘I’m in security,’ he admitted finally. This was the truth. One of his many companies was responsible for the safety of some of the most prominent people on the planet. As the ruler of a country it was in his interest to hire the best.

  ‘Aha.’ Sitting back, Lucy appeared to relax. ‘Now it makes sense.’

  ‘What does?’

  ‘Your evasiveness,’ she explained. ‘I’m guessing you handle security for one of the those big fat potentates on their big fat superyachts.’ She angled her chin towards the window, beyond which a line of imposing vessels loomed like huge white ghosts against the steel-grey sky. ‘What’s it like working for the super-rich, mystery man?’

  Her naivety was irresistible, but her innocence compelled him to tell the truth. ‘Actually, I’m one of them.’

  ‘A big, fat potentate?’ she exclaimed, frowning in a way that made him laugh.

  ‘I thought it was the yachts you thought big and fat.’

  ‘You’re being serious, aren’t you?’ she said in a very different tone.

  ‘Your expression does my ego no good at all,’ he admitted.

  ‘Well, this changes things,’ she said, ‘and I can’t help the way I look.’

  ‘Having money changes your opinion of me?’

  She hummed and frowned again. ‘I don’t have an opinion about you yet,’ she admitted honestly. ‘I don’t know you well enough.’

  He would be the first to admit he was touchy about money. His late uncle had plundered the Qalalan treasury, leaving it empty when Tadj inherited the throne. Tadj had built up a bankrupt country brick by brick. Even then, when everything was back on an even keel, a family to whose daughter he’d been engaged since his birth turned up to demand he marry the girl right away. It had cost him a king’s ransom to sort that out. The experience had left him with a horror of state marriages, together with the distinct impression that a mistress was far preferable to a wife. He had to marry one day to provide Qalala with an heir as the constitution demanded, but not yet, and his thoughts regarding taking a mistress in the interim had just taken on a new and vigorous lease of life.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ‘IF YOU’VE MADE so much money out of the security business...’ What was coming next, he wondered as Lucy gave him one of her wide-eyed cheeky, teasing looks. ‘Can I ask you for a loan?’

  He knew this was a joke, but bridled anyway at the possibility that she might be like all the rest. ‘Ten pounds until pay day?’ she pressed blithely, but she couldn’t hold back the laughter, and, sitting back, she said, ‘You should see your face.’

  He adopted a stern look. ‘You’ll get away with that this time.’

  ‘You mean there’ll be a next time?’ Quick as a whip, he thought as she added, ‘That’s assuming rather a lot, isn’t it? How do you know I’ll want to see you again?’

  His groin tightened as he told her, ‘Educated guess.’

  Resting her chin on her hand, she stared at him in a way that made him wish he were clothed in flowing robes rather that snug-fitting jeans.

  ‘Surely, you can run to a miserly ten pounds?’ she pressed.

  He reached for his wallet.

  ‘Don’t you dare,’ she said.

  ‘Can’t I pay the bill for the extra coffee?’

  ‘Touché,’ she said. ‘Just bear this in mind, Mr Security Man. I don’t want your money. I don’t want anyone’s money. I’m doing fine as I am. Here—let me contribute. Save your money for your next coffee-shop adventure.’

  ‘I doubt there’ll be one.’

  ‘Too much of a security risk for you to keep taking up with strangers?’ she suggested.

  ‘Something like that.’ He stared at her intently, but there was no sign that she’d recognised him.

  ‘I guess you have to be careful in the security business.’

  ‘My involvement is in the security of a country,’ he explained.

  ‘Big stuff,’ she said.

  ‘You could say that.’ He grinned.

  ‘You must be pretty powerful. And yet you look so normal.’

  He tried hard not to laugh. ‘Why thank you.’

  ‘Well, this has all been very nice.’ She sighed as she gathered up her things. ‘But now it’s time for me to go. Some of us have to work,’ she added.

  ‘Let me walk you back—where do you work?’ He wasn’t ready to let her go.

  ‘At Miss Francine’s laundry,’ she said with a touch of defiance.

  He got it. Some of the rich yachties could be real snobs. If he turned out to be one of them, she’d rather know now. ‘The laundry on the marina?’ he prompted, having noticed the bustling establishment on his walk.

  ‘Yes.’ She pulled another of her comic faces. ‘We’ve moved on from banging out dirt with stones at the stream.’

  ‘Uh-huh. So, what’s your job at the laundry?’

  ‘Ironing and finishing.’

  ‘You any good?’

  ‘You bet I am.’

  His lips twitched and then she laughed. It must have dawned on them both at the same moment that two strangers could share a table and chat over coffee, without things getting heavy.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said with a graceful flutter of her slender hands. ‘I didn’t mean to bite your head off. It’s just that some visitors to King’s Dock are snobby idiots and I wanted to be sure you weren’t one of them.’

  ‘I’d never have guessed,’ he said dryly.

  ‘So long as you’re not a trust-fund yachtie with nothing better to do than spend your inherited money, I guess I’m okay with that.’

  ‘Touchy about money?’ he probed as they navigated their way out through the crowded café.

  ‘Every sensible person cares about money,’ she said.

  ‘Well, I can reassure you on that score. Everything I’ve got I’ve earned. All I inherited was debt.’

  ‘There must be something else wrong with you,’ she said as they reached the door. ‘No one’s perfect.’

  ‘Feel free to examine my faults,’ he invited.

  ‘Not likely! So, who left the debt?’ she asked with her hand on the door. ‘A close relative?’

  ‘My uncle.’ As he spoke and took over opening the door, he realised that he hadn’t been this frank with anyone ever, let alone on such short acquaintance.

  ‘So you repaid your uncle’s debt as a matter of honour,’ she guessed as they stepped out into icy air from the steaming warmth of the busy café.

  He shrugged as he thought back to when Qalala’s future had depended on a financial rescue package, and how lucky he was to have already made a fortune in tech. This had allowed him to vastly improve the lot of his people, and save the sapphire mines his uncle had been plundering for years.

  ‘Let’s just say my uncle almost ruined the family business,’ he told her as they walked along.

  ‘And you saved it,’ she said confidently.

  ‘You’ve got a
lot of faith in a man you’ve only just met,’ he commented.

  Her extraordinary green eyes shot him a penetrating glance. ‘I don’t feel like this about everyone.’

  For some strange reason, he felt the same, and wanted to tell her more about the history of his country, and how deeply he felt for Qalala. Meeting Lucy had turned out to be a real wake-up call. The type of wife his royal council was urging him to take would be a matter of business for both parties, whereas a mistress like Lucy would give as good as she got. ‘So now you’ve got me all worked out, what’s next for you?’ he probed.

  ‘I’d like to hear more about you,’ she said.

  ‘Some other time,’ he proposed as they reached the marina.

  ‘There you go again,’ she said with an amused sideways look. ‘That would mean seeing each other again,’ she explained. ‘So, where do you come from? You don’t have an office pallor, so I’m guessing somewhere hot...’

  ‘Somewhere far away,’ he said.

  ‘Come on, Mr Security Man. I need specifics.’

  ‘So you can tell your friends?’

  ‘Can’t I be interested?’

  Was he going to talk about the billions he’d made in tech? She’d run a mile. Lucy just wasn’t the type to be impressed by money. And he wanted to keep her around a little longer. Should he tell her that he used to be known as the Playboy Prince, and his people, who had been downtrodden for years by his profligate uncle, hadn’t expected anything of him? They couldn’t have guessed that he’d been waiting for this chance to serve his country, and would seize the opportunity with both hands. Putting his business acumen to its most demanding test yet, he had transformed Qalala, and would continue to put the country before himself.

  ‘And you accuse me of daydreaming,’ Lucy accused.

  He linked arms with her as they crossed the road. It was a gesture that came as naturally as breathing.

  Tadj was gorgeous. And yes, she was smitten. She’d have to be a block of wood not to be affected by his firm touch on her arm, or those amazing eyes, scanning the street to make sure they were safe before he crossed. He was so rugged and tall and tanned, it felt amazing to be linking arms with him.

  ‘Watch out,’ he exclaimed as, distracted, she almost tripped over the kerb.

  As his grip tightened and their faces came dangerously close, she determined to discover Tadj’s true identity when she returned to the laundry. Someone was bound to know. Gossip was rife on King’s Dock, and spread like wildfire. A man like Tadj would hardly go unnoticed. Her workmates would have all the juice, which would almost certainly include the fact that she’d been seen drinking coffee with him.

  ‘I’m afraid this is where we part,’ she said as they approached her workplace.

  ‘Afraid? You?’ he queried with a wry look. ‘Those two things don’t fit.’

  ‘I’m not a thing,’ she said, warming under his gaze. ‘And I’m not afraid of you,’ she added.

  ‘I’m very pleased to hear it,’ he said, making her a mock bow.

  Everything about this encounter was new to her. She’d never had so much fun with a man. She’d never had fun at all. It was such a shame they would probably never meet again.

  He frowned deeply. ‘Do you have to go straight back to work?’

  Her pulse raced. So he felt the connection too. ‘Yes,’ she said, instinct telling her not to make things too easy for him. ‘Some other time, perhaps...’

  ‘When?’

  She hadn’t expected him to be quite so direct. ‘Soon,’ she said airily as her heart tried to pound its way out of her chest. ‘I’d like that,’ she added honestly, feeling she’d been a bit harsh. ‘And you don’t have to walk me to the door.’

  ‘But I insist,’ he said.

  ‘Do you always get your own way?’

  ‘Always,’ he said in a way that made a quiver of excitement tremble low in her belly and her nipples tighten to the point of pain.

  ‘Thanks for the coffee,’ she said when they reached the laundry.

  ‘Just tell me one thing before you go,’ he insisted.

  She looked at his hand on her arm. He let her go. ‘Okay,’ she agreed.

  ‘What would you do if you had all the money in the world?’

  She didn’t even have to think about it. ‘I’d buy new machinery for Miss Francine’s laundry and make sure she took a proper holiday. Did I say something funny?’ She frowned.

  ‘Only what I expected of you, I suppose.’

  Lucy’s heart pounded even faster as Tadj’s magnificent shoulders eased in a casual shrug. ‘Your wish is highly commendable,’ he added, staring down at her with warmth and laughter in his eyes.

  ‘But you’re not the genie in the bottle,’ she observed sensibly.

  ‘I could be...’

  ‘Not this time,’ she said, warning him off with a mock-stern look.

  As she was speaking, she was digging around in her shopper to find her purse.

  ‘What are you doing?’ he asked, frowning as she brought it out.

  ‘Paying for my coffee,’ she said. ‘I don’t like to be in debt to anyone—and you’ve had enough trouble, from what you’ve told me. I would have paid at the café, but you got in fast. Here. Take it,’ she insisted, thrusting some cash towards him.

  ‘I’ll leave it as a tip for the wait staff when I walk past,’ he agreed.

  ‘Brownie points to you,’ she said approvingly. ‘Well, I can’t be late for work.’

  ‘Don’t forget tonight—’

  ‘Tonight?’ she interrupted.

  ‘When I see you again.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know about that. I’ve got studying to do when I finish work.’

  ‘Studying what?’ he pressed, frowning.

  ‘History of art. My dream is to be a curator, or a conservator one day,’ she explained.

  ‘Working in a museum or an art gallery?’ he proposed.

  ‘Exactly.’

  Tadj stared at her long and hard. ‘Anything else?’ he said at last.

  ‘I’ll let you know if I think of something,’ she promised cheekily with a glance inside the laundry.

  ‘Don’t let me keep you,’ Tadj said dryly.

  ‘I won’t.’

  ‘Just one thing,’ he said.

  ‘Which is?’ she pressed.

  ‘You’ll need a party dress for tonight.’

  ‘I’ve already told you, I’m not coming out tonight.’

  ‘But you’ve got a party to go to.’

  ‘No, I don’t,’ she argued, enjoying the game. How could she not, when Tadj’s wicked black eyes were full of amusement?

  ‘Yes, you do,’ he insisted, acting stern.

  ‘With you? Not likely!’ she countered, wanting to prolong the moment of parting.

  ‘On board the Sapphire tonight,’ he tempted.

  ‘You’re kidding me! You know I can’t resist an invitation like that.’

  ‘Good.’ His lips pressed down attractively, making her wonder what it would feel like if he kissed her. So much so, she almost missed his next statement. ‘My friend Sheikh Khalid is having a party tonight, and you’re invited as my guest.’

  ‘That’s news to me,’ she said, heart pounding as she lifted her chin to confront those dangerous eyes.

  ‘I can’t think of anyone I’d rather take as my plus one. At least we’ll have a laugh. What do you say?’

  ‘Can’t you find someone else to have a laugh with? Someone more suitable?’ Lucy suggested, as the enormity of what she could be agreeing to struck home. A glamorous party on board a yacht that could slip its moorings at any point? However attractive she might find Tadj, or maybe because of it, her sensible self advised caution.

  ‘I’m right out of amusing women at the moment,’ he said with a somewhat cynical look that s
uggested this might actually be the case. ‘And I don’t relish being bored to tears by people trying to find out if the person they’re talking to is as important as they are.’

  ‘Good plan. But why me, when there must be dozens of better qualified companions?’

  ‘Qualified in what way?’ he demanded, pretending to be shocked.

  ‘There must be dozens of people who’d love to go to that party.’ With you, she left out, deciding that with his good looks Tadj probably didn’t need his ego massaging.

  ‘No one with your unique qualities,’ he assured her, straight-faced.

  She hummed and frowned. ‘I’d love to know what they are.’

  ‘That will become apparent as the evening goes on,’ he promised.

  ‘But as I’m not coming to the party...’

  ‘Those unique qualities will force you to,’ he insisted. ‘You won’t be able to resist.’

  He might be right, Lucy concluded. ‘Go on.’

  ‘You work a real job, and meet real people on a daily basis. You’re interested in everything and everyone, and you have your own quirky take on what you see.’

  ‘You’ve gathered a lot about me in a very short time.’

  He certainly had, Tadj thought. ‘My point is you’re real and I like that. You have no idea how rare that is.’

  She thought about this for a moment. ‘You make a very persuasive case,’ she said at last.

  And he wasn’t about to give up. ‘You’ll be my honoured guest tonight.’

  ‘Better that than dishonoured—and you can put that away,’ she flashed when he pulled out his wallet.

  ‘For the dress you’ll be wearing tonight,’ he explained.

  She tightened her lips. Now he’d offended her. ‘I’m not entirely penniless. I’m sure I can rustle something up.’

  ‘Then, you agree?’

  She looked at him and heaved a theatrical sigh. ‘You got me,’ she admitted.

  ‘Just one thing. Don’t keep me waiting when I pick you up tonight.’

  ‘Making conditions now? I can always change my mind.’

  ‘You won’t,’ he said confidently.