Tamsyn shook her head, her rich red curls shimmering all the way down her narrow back. ‘I just don’t get it. You’re being loyal to him? King Callous? Someone who doesn’t deserve your loyalty?’
‘I’m trying to do what is best for the baby,’ said Hannah as the kettle whistled out the fact that it had boiled. Reaching up, she took two mugs from the cupboard and dropped a peppermint teabag into each. ‘And forming some kind of vendetta against the baby’s father is not what I had in mind.’
‘So he didn’t try to stop you when you told him you were leaving?’
Hannah nodded. ‘He did. He backtracked and apologised and told me he should never have said it, but the damage was done as far as I was concerned. I told him I had no intention of changing my mind and was flying back to England as soon as I could fix a flight. And that’s when he insisted on putting me on one of his private jets.’
‘But you refused, right?’
Hannah picked up the kettle and poured boiling water onto the peppermint teabags. She had wanted to refuse and pride had been urging her to do just that, but she’d been emotionally wrung out by everything that had happened and physically exhausted, too. She had started to worry that so much stress would be bad for the baby and the thought of being able to sleep in a proper bed on the Sheikh’s plane instead of being cramped in the middle of a row of four had proved too powerful a lure to resist. But she hadn’t given him her acceptance until one final streak of defiance had reared its head and she had blurted out a sarcastic question to the black-eyed Sheikh who stood before her.
‘But what will people think when they see some unknown English chambermaid using the Sheikh’s private jet?’
‘I don’t care what they think,’ he’d ground out. ‘I am trying to do what is best.’
Her laugh had been bitter. ‘Don’t you think it’s a little late for that, Kulal?’
She had seen him flinch in response to that particular dig and had tried to enjoy his discomfiture. But it hadn’t seemed to work like that. She’d just felt completely wretched. So wretched that she hadn’t had the energy to refuse a ride in the limousine that had been waiting on her arrival back in London and had whisked her home in purring luxury. It had felt strange stepping out into the gusty chill of the October evening after her brief exposure to the Zahristan sun, but at once she was back to her small room in the Granchester’s staff quarters, she’d finally felt able to rest. She had lain down and slept for a solid twelve hours and had woken with a feeling of resolve before demolishing an enormous breakfast.
She’d convinced herself it was best to keep her dreadful trip to Zahristan quiet, but force of habit had made her text Tamsyn to tell her she was back and when her sister had come rushing round, Hannah had found herself blurting everything out. Because they’d always told each other everything...and because she’d felt as if she would burst if she didn’t tell someone.
‘So how did you leave it with the cold-hearted bastard?’ Tamsyn was saying as she sipped the peppermint tea which Hannah had just handed her.
You never entirely relinquished the role of elder sister, Hannah thought as she fixed her sister with another expression of mild reproof. ‘Please don’t say that. His name is Kulal and I refuse to get into name-calling.’
‘But he’s—’
‘He’s probably still reeling from the shock of discovering I’m pregnant—and shock makes people react in all kinds of weird ways.’
‘Hannah, why do you always have to be so kind?’
‘I am not being kind,’ said Hannah, twisting a strand of her long hair round and round one finger. ‘I am trying to be practical. Kulal is the father of my child and even if he never wants to see either of us again, I am not going to bring this baby up to hate him.’
‘So you’ll lie to your child?’ accused Tamsyn bitterly. ‘Just like you lied to me?’
Hannah’s lips flattened. How the past came back to haunt you when you least expected it! Or when you were least equipped to deal with it. ‘I never lied to you, Tamsyn. I just tried to present reality in its least painful form,’ she said. ‘Just like I’m going to do with this baby. When the subject arises, I will just say that I was swept off my feet by a dashing man—which is true.’
‘But words won’t pay the bills. How the hell are you going to manage, Hannah? Do you really think you can live life as a single mother on a chambermaid’s wages?’
‘Other women manage.’
‘And aren’t you forgetting something else? I thought Granchester employees weren’t allowed to sleep with the guests. What if somebody finds out?’
Hannah winced at her sister’s candour. ‘Nobody’s going to find out, are they?’ she said with a confidence she didn’t quite feel as she picked up her mug and sipped from it. But the loud ringing of her phone suddenly broke into the uneasy silence and her heart gave a sudden clench as she glanced down at the number before accepting the call. With a rapidly escalating heartbeat, she listened to the voice at the other end and when she’d cut the connection, she looked into Tamsyn’s eyes and tried to keep the tremble of fear from her voice. ‘That was HR,’ she said unsteadily. ‘And they want to see me immediately.’
* * *
Kulal knocked on a door which was exactly the same as all the others on both sides of the narrow corridor, unprepared for the tiny redheaded figure who flew at him when it was opened.
‘You bastard!’ she declared, curling her hands into small fists. ‘How dare you?’
He honestly thought she might be about to hit him and was wondering whether to summon the female bodyguard he’d had the presence of mind to bring and who was standing just along the corridor, when he saw Hannah appear behind the redhead.
‘Tamsyn,’ she said, her voice sounding unnaturally calm. ‘That kind of talk isn’t going to help.’
The redhead didn’t budge. ‘Says who?’
‘I do. And now I’d like you to go home because I need to talk to Kulal.’
‘You think I’m leaving you alone? With him?’
For the first time, Kulal spoke, realising who the little spitfire must be. ‘And if I give you my word that I have your sister’s welfare at heart?’
The redhead tilted her chin to fix him with a spitting emerald gaze which was so unlike the cool blue of Hannah’s eyes. ‘I wouldn’t trust your word just as far as I could throw it and I’m not going anywhere!’ she declared.
But several minutes later, after repeated assurances from Hannah that she would ring her once ‘he’ had gone, Tamsyn Wilson departed with another furious shake of her red curls and Kulal was left alone with Hannah.
He looked at her. Her face was pale and her eyes were angry, but there was a dignity about her, too. Something almost noble about her demeanour, which had the peculiar effect of making Kulal want to take her in his arms and cradle her, but instinct told him not to dare. She didn’t look particularly surprised to see him—her expression was one of resignation. But there was certainly no pleasure or delight on her face and he wasn’t used to being given such a lukewarm reception.
‘Hello, Hannah,’ he said.
Hannah took her time before answering him.
How strange to see the Sheikh of Zahristan standing on the doorstep of her humble staff quarters despite the fact that today he wasn’t dressed in the flowing robes and headdress which had made him look so imperious on their last meeting. His immaculate suit was unashamedly cosmopolitan and only the hard planes of his face and distinctive hawk-like features spoke of his particular royal heritage. Her heart was pounding and although she tried to tell herself that the rapid beat was caused by apprehension, she knew that wasn’t entirely true. Because her breasts were tingling and there was a tug, low in her belly, which spoke of feelings which were a long way from anger. How was it possible to feel attracted to someone, when they were trying to treat you like an inconvenient object who needed to be moved out of the wa
y as quickly as possible?
Well, he might be a king and she might be a chambermaid, but he would only walk all over her if she let him. So don’t let him. She tilted her chin. ‘Why are you here, Kulal?’
His gaze was steady. ‘Don’t you think we have some business to discuss?’
‘I thought we’d said everything which needed saying.’
‘Please, Hannah.’
Was it hearing him say a word she suspected he didn’t use very often which made her relent? ‘You’d better come in,’ she said ungraciously, turning her back on him and retreating into the small room.
‘Thanks,’ he said and followed her inside.
‘Please don’t thank me, Kulal. It’s not something I particularly want to do,’ she said, watching as he closed the door. ‘I just didn’t want to have a difficult confrontation in the corridor, with the other staff listening. Though of course I’m no longer a member of staff,’ she added. ‘Since I’ve just been sacked—for which apparently I have you to thank.’ Some of her coolness began to evaporate. ‘Couldn’t you accept the fact I’d refused your insulting offer to buy my baby?’ she demanded, her voice rising as she thought of her blameless work record besmirched by an arrogant piece of manoeuvring by the Sheikh. ‘Did the King decide he had to try to get his own way, no matter what? Was that why you got straight on the phone to the owner of the Granchester, just because he happens to be a mate of yours? I can’t believe you actually rang Zac Constantinides to tell him you’d had sex with me—the woman in Human Resources was practically shaking with rage!’
‘I saw no alternative,’ Kulal answered calmly. ‘You made it clear your intention to continue working as a chambermaid and there was no way I could allow that to happen.’
‘Why not?’
‘Why not?’ Kulal glanced around the small room with a look of genuine consternation, taking in the cramped dimensions and the institutional red-and-white sign which pointed to the fire escape. ‘Because you are carrying my child! A child who will be a prince or princess of Zahristan. What were you thinking was going to happen, Hannah? That you would carry on making beds and cleaning up after guests until you became too cumbersome to continue? And then what? Perhaps you were planning to bring the royal heir back here and place him or her in a crib while you continued to service the rooms?’
She was grinding her teeth together like a little animal. ‘I would have managed,’ she said fiercely. ‘I have always managed in the past.’
In any other circumstances, Kulal might have coldly drawn her attention to the fact that she was only just about managing, but once again instinct told him to tread carefully because he could see the flicker of fear in her eyes, which she was desperately trying to hide. ‘When is the baby due?’ he questioned, trying to remember the word which Zac’s wife, Emma, had used. A word Kulal had said many times before, of course—but never in this particular context. ‘Are you...showing yet?’
This question seemed to annoy her. ‘Not yet. I’m only just over twelve weeks and I could have managed to keep it secret for a few weeks more, if you hadn’t blurted it out and...’ She stared at him and an exasperated sigh escaped her lips. ‘Why have you come here today, Kulal? To gloat?’
‘Of course it’s not to gloat,’ he said impatiently. ‘I am here because I want to help you.’
‘Funny way you have of showing it. I’ve already told you I’m not interested in your insulting offer and even if you’ve come here today to increase your price—my baby is not for sale!’
‘I haven’t. In fact, I’ve given the matter more deliberation. Perhaps I was a little hasty before.’
Her voice was bitter. ‘You don’t say?’
‘I should have considered all the options before I spoke.’ Kulal drew in a deep breath, knowing that what he was about to do was the right thing. The only thing he could do, no matter that it went against everything he’d ever wanted. He tried to smile, but his face felt like a piece of concrete, against which the movement of his mouth barely made an impression. He looked at the tiny woman with the belligerent expression. ‘I have decided I will marry you after all,’ he said heavily. ‘It will be a marriage of duty and of sacrifice on both our parts—for the sake of our baby.’
She was staring at him like someone waiting for the punchline. She narrowed her eyes. ‘Is this some kind of joke?’
‘Why would I joke about something as serious as offering to make you my Queen?’
‘I thought we’d already had this conversation. We both agreed that marriage between two people who don’t even like each other is a bad idea.’
It was not the reaction he was expecting and Kulal couldn’t quite believe it. He searched her face, wondering if it was a feigned response designed to make him push his case more strongly, but her consternation seemed genuine. Surely she was not opposed to a proposition which most women would have leapt at? He studied her more closely. The sharp pallor which had been in evidence when she had flown to Zahristan had given way to a healthy glow, against which her eyes sparkled like pale blue stars. The pregnancy had made her dark hair even more lustrous than before and it hung in gleaming waves around her shoulders. Perhaps it was time to take charge. To show her he had strength enough for both of them. And wouldn’t action be more effective than words—reminding her that they had a rare chemistry between them?
Closing the small space between them, he reached out and pulled her into his arms, recognising from her instinctive shiver of pleasure that sometimes a woman could crave a man’s touch, even if she didn’t want to. He ran his thumb down the side of her cheek, giving her time to move away, because no way would he be accused of coercion. But she didn’t move. She stayed right where she was and her mouth was trembling with unspoken invitation as he lowered his head towards hers.
Their lips collided—first hard, then soft.
A meeting and then a slow exploration.
He heard her moan and the sound was enough to fuel his rising need. Barely a whisper of breath passed from her mouth into his—but it contained a hunger which mirrored his own. His arms tightened and he could feel her breasts pressing into him, her nipples hardening like tiny bullets against his chest. And Kulal found himself driven on by an urgent hunger because never had a kiss tasted as sweet as this. As sweet as any battle victory, he thought longingly, as his tongue laced with hers. Was it because she was pregnant with his child, or because she was the only woman who had ever opposed him and that in itself was a huge turn-on?
‘Hannah,’ he husked out, aware of the rocky hardness between his thighs and longing to lose himself deep inside her. ‘Be my bride.’
Afterwards, he would curse himself for having spoken because his words shattered the erotic interlude—more than that, his momentary sexual hunger had given her all the power. Suddenly, the spell was broken and she pulled away from him, her eyes blazing. She swayed a little and automatically, he put out his hand to steady her, but she waved him away.
‘Are you out of your mind?’ she demanded, untidy locks of hair tumbling around her flushed cheeks. ‘Coming onto me like that when we’re supposed to be having a discussion about our baby?’
‘Are you trying to deny that you wanted me?’ he mocked.
She shook her head. ‘No. I can’t deny that, but it was...inappropriate. Just like your proposal of marriage was inappropriate.’
‘Why?’ he demanded hotly.
‘Do you think I’m a fool, Kulal? That just because I make beds and clean rooms for a living, I’m incapable of understanding what’s staring me in the face?’
Momentarily wrong-footed by such a mercurial switch of mood, Kulal narrowed his eyes. ‘I make no such judgment of your character.’
‘Are you sure? Did your advisors tell you to marry me after your initial aversion to the idea? Did they suggest that if I wasn’t prepared to sell you my baby, then a king’s ring on my finger would mean you coul
d get hold of your child by legal means instead?’
‘You think that I would take such advice from my advisors?’ he thundered. ‘They would not dare presume to tell me how to live my life!’ He drew in a deep breath. ‘The decision is mine and mine alone—and besides, marriage to me would protect you, not weaken you.’
She shook her head. ‘No, it wouldn’t. It would simply make me your possession. We both know that.’
Frustratedly, Kulal turned away from her, staring out of the tiny window which overlooked a courtyard, in which plastic bins were lined up like sentries. Rain had begun to slant down in a thin grey curtain. Everything looked so grey, he thought, and as he tried to imagine his child growing up in such an environment, a feeling of powerlessness washed over him. Once, he had vowed never to allow himself to feel that way again, but suddenly he recognised that you couldn’t always dictate events. That sometimes life took you along a path you hadn’t intended, and having a royal status made no difference to that journey. He had grown up with all the riches in the world, but that hadn’t made a bit of difference to the fact that he and his brother had been at the mercy of a manipulative mother who had wanted only one thing. And it hadn’t been them.
His mouth hardened. His mistrust of the opposite sex was rooted deep in his psyche and Hannah Wilson was reinforcing all his worst prejudices. He knew only too well how unpredictable women could be and here was a prime example of someone who manifested that dangerous, innate quality. It hadn’t taken long for the humble chambermaid to morph into a self-possessed creature who was airily rejecting a king’s marriage proposal, had it? She was far less of a pushover than she should have been, given her status. Did the knowledge that his flesh grew inside her give her the confidence to address him as if he were any other man?
He was tempted to tell her that she would obey him because his wishes were always acceded to. Yet he recognised it wasn’t that simple. He couldn’t force this Englishwoman to marry him, but maybe he could persuade her.
Once again, he allowed his gaze to linger on the cramped dimensions of the tiny staff room. ‘So where are you planning to live, once you leave your job?’
Crowned for the Sheikh's Baby Page 9
