Pregnant by the Desert King

by Susan Stephens

  ‘Go,’ he said, glancing up from the documents he’d been studying. ‘You look exhausted.’

  Had she lost his trust along the way? She could only hope not. If this was it, and they could never be close again, there would be a big black hole in her life that nothing could fill.

  The bedroom on board Tadj’s jet was quite small but well equipped with the most comfortable bed, Lucy thought with a relieved sigh as she settled down on the crisp white sheets. But sleep didn’t come easily, and she tossed and turned as she tried to work out what Tadj was thinking. When she finally drifted off to sleep there were worry lines between her brows, but she slept heavily, only waking when the promised knock came on the door.

  Having taken a fast shower, she wrapped a towel around her and came out to find fresh clothes laid out on the bed. It was pretty much a replay of the clothes she’d been wearing when she boarded the aircraft. Who’d done this for her? she wondered, tracing the edge of the fabric with her fingers. Time to get her head around the fact that billionaires lived very different lives, with squads of people to anticipate their every need. The engine noise was already changing in preparation for landing, and with a shrug she pulled on the clothes.

  Back in the main cabin, there was no sign of Tadj. He must have returned to the flight deck to take over the landing of the plane. She took her seat, and as the undercarriage went down she felt safe in his hands. Outside the window, a spectacular light show of pink, indigo, and gold was the most spectacular welcome to Qalala. The jet was on its final approach to what appeared to be a solitary airstrip in rolling miles of golden desert. By the time the wheels touched down, the purple light of dusk had settled over the land, but far from this being a sinister, or isolated location, Lucy could see vast crowds had gathered. The length of the runway was lined with bonfires, and people were already celebrating Tadj’s return. Entire families seemed to have turned out to welcome him home. There were even riders on horseback, dressed in traditional robes, waving flambeaux in the air. The Emir of Qalala was home.

  ‘Are you ready to disembark?’

  Lucy turned to see Tadj standing behind her in the aisle. For a moment words escaped her. No more the conventionally dressed pilot, but in traditional black robes edged with gold, and a flowing black headdress wrapped around his head and face. The air of danger and exoticism he exuded was phenomenal. The photograph in his country house did him no justice at all.

  ‘Lucy?’ he prompted when she didn’t move right away. ‘People are waiting for us.’

  Tempted to stubbornly refuse to rush, she remembered the countless people who had waited so long to greet their ruler, so she did rush, and was greeted on exit by warm gusts of spice-laden air, mixed with the astringent tang of aviation fuel.

  ‘Shouldn’t you go first?’ she asked Tadj when he indicated that she should go ahead of him.

  A flight attendant discreetly explained that the Emir would exit the aircraft last, which seemed strange to Lucy, but she didn’t want to tread on any toes at such an early stage of the visit. Stepping out, she was blinded by lights, all of which were directed at the small platform at the top of the aircraft steps. She was just one of many being used to dress the stage, she realised, before the star of the show made his appearance. The cheers were deafening as the Emir of Qalala dipped his head to exit the jet. As he stepped out into the light his name was chanted repeatedly. With the sound vibrating through her body, Lucy had to remind herself that this man was the father of her child.

  After descending the steps and greeting the official welcoming party, Tadj strode away towards the first in a fleet of sleek black SUVs. Lucy wondered if everyone who followed her onto the runway was heading to Wolf Fort.

  Tadj’s off-roader sped off before Lucy had chance to work out which SUV she was supposed to be travelling in. She had never felt more isolated than she did now, amongst this crowd of strangers, all of whom seemed to know exactly where they were heading. The sense of unreality only intensified as a gust of wind blew desert sand into her eyes. Everyone else was wearing protective headgear, she noticed. For once, it was a relief when a black-clad security guard, in a sharp suit, with a suspicious bulge beneath his jacket, ushered her towards one of the SUVs.

  If only Tadj could have given her a few words of reassurance and explained what was happening.

  Was this how he had felt three months ago?

  Chastened, she climbed into the vehicle. No longer the lover, Tadj was the Emir of Qalala, and she would be a fool to forget it. She might be the mother of his child, but her future in this foreign land was unknowable and uncertain.

  They’d driven for miles in the dark, sometimes on the highway, and sometimes on bumpy tracks, when suddenly lights appeared in the distance, and the ghostlike walls of an imposing edifice loomed out of the shadows. The fort was brilliantly lit and didn’t appear sinister at all. Flags were flying in celebration of the Emir’s return, and fireworks lit up the sky. Lucy’s anxiety was quickly replaced by avid curiosity, and as the vehicle slowed to a halt she could see the official party greeting Tadj on the steps of the fortress. Everyone was dressed in the flowing robes of Qalala, and a guard of honour lined the route across a vast courtyard to an imposing stone entrance beyond. It was a disappointment to see Tadj disappear inside the ancient walls, but an elderly man who had stepped forward to greet her introduced himself as Abdullah as he bowed over her hand, and greeted her with warmth, saying politely, ‘Welcome to Qalala. I hope you have had a good journey? As soon as I have seen you comfortably settled in your suite of rooms, I will take your order for food and drink, and hand over the agenda for your stay.’

  ‘My agenda?’ Lucy queried.

  ‘His Majesty is leaving for the sapphire mines in the morning, and expects you to join him.’

  Why couldn’t Tadj tell her that? ‘The sapphire mines?’ she prompted, to the echoing clatter of their feet on the stone-paved courtyard. ‘Are the mines far away?’

  ‘No more than a day’s ride,’ Abdullah informed her with a gentle and reassuring smile. Bowing politely once more, he invited Lucy to go ahead of him into Wolf Fort.

  Of course Tadj was busy, Lucy reasoned. He’d only just arrived home. She must be patient. But why did he want her to see the mines? Her surroundings distracted her. The historic fort was stunning and atmospheric, and called for more than one sketch to record this perfect blend of old and new. Behind its towering exterior, she found every modern luxury, even an elevator to transport her to her accommodation, which, it amused Lucy to find, was in a turret. If this was to be her home for the next unspecified number of days, Lucy thought as she turned full circle, it was going to be a magical stay, and she had the additional reassurance of knowing that her stepfather would never find her here.

  ‘Do you like it?’ Abdullah asked as she took in the fantasia of silk hangings, jewel-coloured rugs, and gilded mirrors.

  ‘I love it,’ Lucy enthused. ‘Please thank the Emir for his kindness in allowing me to stay here, as well as all the staff who’ve prepared so thoughtfully for my arrival.’ She was looking at the colourful exotic floral displays, the platters of delicious fruits, and jugs of squeezed juices. The turret suite was an unusual space with curving rough stone walls. These were softened by colourful and tasteful decorations, and beyond the windows she could see the crenellated battlements dressed for the Emir’s return with a forest of flags.

  ‘Your agenda, Miss Gillingham...’

  Lucy turned in time to see Abdullah placing a document on top of a gilded console table. ‘And your menu for tonight,’ he added, placing a second sheet of paper on top of the first. ‘Though, of course, the kitchen will accommodate anything you care for, and at any time you’d like to eat it.’ His face broke into a smile, as if it delighted him to share the pleasures of the fort with Lucy.

  ‘A chicken wrap?’ she asked, mouth already watering at the thought as she returned his smile. Pre
gnancy cravings could pop up at the most unlikely times.

  ‘With extra fries?’ Abdullah anticipated with a grin.

  ‘Wonderful,’ Lucy enthused, relaxing for the first time since arriving in Qalala. ‘Before you go,’ she added as he turned to go, ‘does His Majesty have a direct line?’ She was done with hanging around, leaving the rest of her stay in the hands of fate and the Emir of Qalala.

  ‘Didn’t His Majesty write it down for you?’

  If she told the truth, that Tadj hadn’t offered to give Lucy his private number, she could be stranded in the turret until morning. ‘I’m sure he meant to,’ she said, ‘but in the rush of coming here...’

  ‘Of course...’ Pulling out a pen from the pocket of his robe with a flourish, her gallant escort wrote Tadj’s number on the top of her agenda.

  The door had barely closed behind him when Lucy pounced on the piece of paper. Reading the item immediately below the telephone number, she saw that she should be ready to leave by helicopter for the sapphire mines at dawn. She wanted to speak to Tadj before then. The tension of not knowing how he really felt about the baby was tearing her up inside. But his phone rang out. She tried three times and could only conclude that he’d decided not to take her calls. He was busy, she reminded herself firmly.

  Pregnancy hormones had a lot to answer for, Lucy concluded when she paced up and down until she couldn’t resist calling him one last time. After another fail, she flung the phone onto the bed and decided to call for supper. After a bath she’d get some sleep. They had an early start in the morning and plenty of time to talk during the journey to the mine, she reassured herself, until it occurred to her that she might not be travelling there with Tadj.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  FLYING IN A helicopter was more fun than she’d expected, though it took a moment before Lucy got used to seeing the ground dropping away beneath her feet through the clear bubble. She wasn’t frightened with Tadj in control. He was a font of calm—when he wasn’t driving her crazy in any number of imaginative ways. As the black aircraft, with its wolf, fangs bared, Tadj’s insignia, emblazoned on the side in gold, soared away from the ground at an acute angle, she wondered if she’d ever seen anyone so focused, so sexy and confident, or so utterly and completely in control.

  It was just a pity she couldn’t read his mind. In the three months they’d been apart, they’d both changed. The man she’d thought such fun, and so dangerously easy to know, had turned out to be the hard-bitten ruler of a powerful country, while she was the woman expecting his child, a fact that had made her more stubbornly determined than ever to do the right thing for her baby, whatever that cost her in personal terms. She did miss the sexy, teasing guy in the coffee shop and couldn’t help wondering what life would have been like with him.

  ‘Okay?’ Tadj demanded, his voice metallic and impersonal in her headphones.

  ‘Fine,’ she fired back.

  She reassured herself that his insignia might be a wolf with its fangs bared, but Tadj cared deeply for his country and its people, and even if she were a passing novelty for the Emir of Qalala, and one he might dispense with once their child was born, she believed there was nothing to fear from him. He wasn’t evil like her stepfather, a man whose wealth and power had been tainted by the misery he’d caused.

  * * *

  ‘Are you warmer?’ he asked.

  Did he care, or was he just being polite? ‘I’m very comfortable,’ she said honestly. She was looking forward to the adventure ahead.

  They didn’t speak again until the golden carpet of the desert gave way to a rough dun scrubland. The foothills of the mountains where the mines were located, Lucy guessed. Tadj confirmed this when she asked him if they were getting close.

  ‘I have a project for you,’ he added to Lucy’s surprise.

  ‘A project?’ She followed his gaze through the floor to the rough terrain beneath them, and then flashed a questioning gaze across the flight deck.

  ‘Your final assessment at college just took on a new and exciting slant,’ he said, clearly loving the mystery he was causing.

  ‘Did it?’ Lucy frowned.

  ‘Combining business with pleasure should be a bonus for you.’

  What did that statement mean?

  ‘Your stepfather’s activities have prompted me to take certain steps.’

  ‘Really?’ Ice shot through Lucy at Tadj’s mention of a man who could inspire terror inside her like no one else. Besides, what more could he do? He’d already arranged for her mother to stay in a safe house and there was no way her stepfather’s reach could extend to Qalala, was there?

  Tadj’s profile was fierce. This was the Warrior King. She could accept that the Emir of Qalala must protect his country, but what was this project he’d mentioned?

  ‘Can I ask about the project?’

  Her voice was tinny in his ear. Even so, he heard a quaver. ‘Not now.’ Preparations for landing took precedence.

  Planning ahead was crucial. He was a forward-thinking man whose success drove the revival of Qalala. No one was allowed to disrupt his plans, not even the mother of his unborn child.

  ‘Who are all these people?’ Lucy asked with surprise, as the size of the crowd waiting to greet them became apparent.

  ‘My team at the mine and their families,’ he explained as he brought the aircraft down in a steady descent. ‘Any excuse for a party,’ he murmured dryly. His mood took an upturn as he spotted many familiar faces.

  ‘They’re very pleased to see you,’ Lucy commented as she stared down.

  He had brought Lucy here to the sapphire mines in Qalala, not so she could gauge his popularity, but so she could see the scope of his work, and appreciate the heritage their child would one day enjoy. There was no question that his heir, boy or girl, would experience a childhood away from Qalala. He was excited at the prospect of sharing all his desert lore, and introducing his child to their people, and to the glories of his beautiful country. Of course, as his mistress Lucy could be part of that. He wanted to keep her close. On a professional front, she’d be a positive asset, and he was a respecter of talent, who nurtured it wherever he found it. With the best cutters and polishers and jewellery designers working for him, he was keen to encourage new ideas when it came to displaying the jeweller’s art. Lucy had recently won a prestigious prize at her college for work on the various exhibitions she’d arranged, making her an ideal candidate for him to draft into the team.

  ‘We’ll be staying here for the next few days,’ he informed her. ‘Roughing it,’ he explained, ‘so you’ll get a chance to know the business—and me,’ he added dryly. ‘That is what you want, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes,’ she admitted, turning to stare at him.

  Even allowing for the restrictions of the sound transmission on board, he detected tension in her voice, and by the time the aircraft had settled on its skids, silence was well established between them.

  * * *

  It was exciting to be here. There was a gritty reality about everything surrounding her, and, whatever project Tadj had in mind, she could only take things one step at a time. She had to make the most of this amazing opportunity to tour a sapphire mine with someone who could answer all her questions. That might not be Tadj, but, if nothing else, this trip would add gravitas to her CV. She had travelled to the source of the precious gems and was about to follow that journey through. With her baby’s future to think about, there was no better building block for her career.

  And her heart? Would have to take a back seat for now.

  Tadj had talked about roughing it, Lucy remembered, smiling ruefully as she looked around. If this was roughing it, she wasn’t the only one who needed to get real. Tadj could certainly do with a reality check. This particular shelter, situated on the fringe of a city of tents, was as well equipped as any hotel. There was even a screened-off area at the back, w
here she could swim in a rock-shielded part of the lagoon. The biggest natural bathroom in the world, Lucy concluded wryly as she pulled back the hanging dividing tent from lagoon to peer outside.

  ‘Do you like your new quarters?’

  Her hand flew to her mouth as Tadj strode into the pavilion. ‘Don’t you knock?’

  He almost smiled. ‘Fist on canvas is pretty useless.’

  ‘You gave me a shock,’ she admitted, straightening up as she turned to face him.

  ‘Don’t slip and fall into the water,’ he cautioned.

  She could hear music in the distance, and its catchy rhythm only seemed to highlight the tension in the tent. ‘There’s feasting and dancing tonight,’ Tadj explained. ‘At the wish of my people, I’ll be attending, and I expect you to be there too.’

  Expect, she thought. What else did the Emir of Qalala expect?

  ‘I’d love to come along,’ she said, determined not to be overwhelmed by Tadj’s majesty at any point.

  He shrugged, stinging her with his careless attitude. She ached inside, missing the friendship that had sprung up so easily between them on that first night. She missed the camaraderie and banter they’d shared, but had no intention of grovelling to try to reclaim Tadj’s favour. He might be like a mountain, towering and inflexible, but he had to move too.

  ‘I’ll bathe first,’ she said, glancing in the direction of the lagoon. The chance to refresh her mind as well as her body was well overdue.

  ‘I’ll bathe with you,’ Tadj informed her. ‘You should have someone with you when you swim.’

  ‘I’m a strong swimmer,’ Lucy protested as her pulse began to race off the scale.

  ‘And pregnant,’ Tadj said flatly. ‘All open water holds risks.’

  So much for solitude and time to think, but why antagonise him? She could shrug too, and, turning her back, she stripped down to her underwear. One good thing about growing up in gangland luxury was the unlimited use of a heated indoor pool at home, as well as a tennis court, and access to a string of ponies. When Lucy’s father had been alive, the same property had been a simple hill farm where Lucy’s parents had scratched a living. But they’d been such happy, uncomplicated times. When her father had died all that had changed. Lucy’s mother had thought it a dream come true when a handsome stranger had whisked her off her feet, but that fairy tale had soon turned into a nightmare, and the simple hill farm had been transformed into a fortress, guarded by grim-faced men with automatic weapons.