He grabbed her arm and herded her toward the far end of the room where there weren’t so many people. She glanced around to see if she could find someone to rescue her, then figured there was no point in putting off the inevitable.
Think fast, she told herself. She had to come up with a plausible story. She’d tell him what she told Zara—that she’d met someone. After all, she’d already hinted there was another man in her past. She needed to buy herself time. If she told him it was his baby, he would take over her life and she would lose the ability to make decisions. It’s not that she wanted to keep Sadik from his child; she wanted to make sure he didn’t ace her out of the picture.
He led her into a small alcove, then positioned her so her back was to the main room, but he faced that direction. Probably so he could make sure they weren’t interrupted or overheard.
“Is it true?” he asked by way of a greeting. “Are you pregnant?”
She reminded herself that the king had not only called the father of her child a jackal of the desert but had offered to have him flogged. She wondered if Hassan would be willing to go through with the latter if he found out the father in question was his own son.
Once again the idea of Sadik in chains gave her comfort, however small. She laced her fingers together in front of her waist and squeezed her palms together.
“I am pregnant,” she said slowly, “but before you get all hot and possessive, I want to make it clear that it’s not your baby. I’ve already told you, there’s someone else in my life now. The child is his.”
Dark eyes narrowed slightly. Sadik seemed to see into her soul. Then he shook his head in a dismissal that made her heart sink.
“The child is mine. You could not be with another man after being with me.”
His flat statement made her want to scream. Worse, it was true, and if she tried to deny it too hard, he was going to see right through her. Panic threatened.
Sadik took hold of her upper arms and pulled her close. As much as she wanted to look away, he compelled her to meet his gaze. His expression turned cold and more than a little scary.
“Make no mistake,” he said softly, menace in every syllable. “Bahanian law will not allow a royal child to be taken out of the country without the king’s permission. However much my father might claim you as his daughter, he will not turn his back on his first grandson. If you do not admit the truth to me now, I will go to my father and tell him of our relationship. I will explain that I believe the child to be mine and insist you be examined by a doctor. If you are more than four months along…”
He stopped talking, but there was no point in finishing the threat. Cleo wasn’t an idiot. She knew that the king’s favor couldn’t be stretched very far. Hassan wouldn’t let her take away his grandchild, and Sadik would do everything he promised.
He continued to stare at her face. “Tell me again, Cleo. Tell me the child is not mine.”
She waited as long as she could, then exhaled the truth. “I can’t.”
His self-satisfied smile tore at her heart. Her first thought was to run. If she went fast enough and far enough they could never find her. But before she could even take a step, Sadik was shaking his head. His smile faded.
“Do not think you can escape me. We are talking about my son. My heir.”
“So if I have a girl, I’m free to go,” she said bitterly, hating that his words had ripped her apart. She didn’t simply fear his threats, she felt as if he’d destroyed every hint of a dream. Sadik didn’t care about her—he never had. As far as he was concerned, she was little more than a vessel. She was the carrier of his offspring, and not a person in her own right.
“I am Prince Sadik of Bahania. I will have a son.”
That almost made her smile. “As long as you had that conversation with your sperm, Sadik. You did realize those little guys might have a mind of their own, right?”
He frowned, as if mothers of royal babies didn’t discuss such things.
She jerked free of his hold and walked to the far end of the alcove. Even as she placed her hands against the cool walls, she knew there was no escape. Not from him and not from her circumstances.
Her eyes burned, and her throat tightened, but her pain was too deep for tears. Sadness tugged at her, making it difficult to stay standing.
“What happens now?” she asked, barely able to form the words, then changed her mind. “Don’t bother. I know what happens. You keep a close watch on me until the child is born, but then what?” She swallowed, not wanting to hear the truth but desperate to know. “How long until you throw me out of the palace?”
He was at her side in an instant. He grabbed her and turned her toward him. Rage tightened his face. She hadn’t known he was capable of such emotion and it should have frightened her, but she had other things to worry about. Once she knew his plans, she could come up with her own ideas of how to escape, either before or after the child was born. Because no matter how he threatened her, she would never abandon her child.
“Is that what you think?” he demanded. “That I would cast you into the streets?”
“You don’t care about me. Until now you only wanted me to warm your bed. Now that you know I’m pregnant, you’ll want me to carry the baby to term, but after that I’ll be of no use to you.”
He released her as if she’d burned him. Sadik stalked to the entrance of the alcove and turned back to face her.
“You think so little of me,” he said.
“I’m a realist. All I want to know are your plans.”
“You will be the mother of my son. As such, you are to be honored.”
Her racing heart slowed slightly. “You wouldn’t expect me to leave my child and just disappear?”
“I am not an animal.”
She wasn’t sure she believed him, but his words gave her hope. If he was willing to say that, then maybe she could go to the king for assurances. The idea of making some kind of coparenting plan work seemed impossible, but she would do anything to stay with her baby.
He glared at her. “I see the doubt in your eyes. How is that possible? In what way have I so betrayed you that you would not trust me now?”
“How much time do you have?” she asked, not caring that she continued to stir his temper. In truth she wanted him to—
The sudden sensation of butterflies in her stomach surprised her into silence. She wasn’t nervous…she was furious that she’d been put into this situation, and relieved that at least for now she didn’t have to worry about losing her child. There was no reason she should be feeling a fluttering sensation.
Cleo’s breath caught. Sadik was at her side in a second, putting his arm around her to support her weight. “What is wrong? Do you need to sit down? Should I call a doctor?”
He was so solicitous and obviously worried that she nearly laughed out loud. Then she remembered that none of his attentions were about her.
“I’m fine,” she said, as the fluttering continued. “I just felt the baby move.”
He frowned. “Is that good? Are you supposed to?”
She considered him the enemy in this situation. Worse, she had feelings for him she wasn’t willing to explore or define. The man tempted her beyond reason and made her forget herself. The safest course of action would be to get as far away as possible. But he was also the father of her child. While growing up she’d seen countless fathers who wanted nothing to do with their offspring. At least Sadik showed interest.
So against her better judgment, she took his hand in hers and brought it to her belly, where the fluttering was the strongest. She pressed his fingers into her belly.
“Can you feel that?” she asked in a whisper. “It’s the first time I’ve felt the baby move.”
He was still, then his fingers moved slightly and he grinned at her. “My son is strong.”
She pushed his hands away and rolled her eyes. “You make me crazy.”
He ignored that and stared at her stomach. “You do not seem very large
in the belly.”
“I’m not showing a lot right now,” she agreed. “I’m a week into my fifth month so I would imagine I’m going to pop anytime now.”
“Pop?”
“Get huge. I’m too short to carry the baby with any grace and style. Tall women can hide their pregnancy longer.”
“Why would you want to hide such a blessing?”
For one thing she hadn’t wanted him to know. For another…She drew in a breath. “Sadik, you have to promise me something. We can’t let everyone know about this. Not until after Zara’s wedding. I don’t want her big day spoiled by speculation.”
Sadik considered her words, then nodded. “I agree that the happiness of my sister must come first. In return for this, I want your word that you won’t steal away after the wedding.”
She hadn’t considered ducking out but realized the thought would have occurred to her eventually. “I promise,” she said.
“Good.” He put his arm around her. “We have much to discuss. I wish to know everything you’ve experienced with the child and I will share in the changes as they occur.”
She thought of how she’d had morning sickness just about twenty-four hours a day and how her body was the one that was going to swell like a watermelon. “I don’t think there’s going to be a whole lot of sharing,” she said glumly. “I can tell you what I’ve experienced, but that’s not the same.”
“I have many questions,” he said as if she hadn’t spoken. “When did you first realize you were pregnant? Have you been eating right? Why did you not tell me?”
Weariness descended. Cleo told herself that she should be grateful that Sadik wasn’t furious with her anymore. She was even surprised that he was taking it so well. But there were so many things she didn’t understand and situations she wasn’t willing to deal with at the moment.
She slipped away from his embrace. Everything was different now. He saw her as the mother of his child, so it was unlikely he would want her in his bed. The thought should have made her relieved, but instead she felt sad.
“I’m really tired,” she said. “Would you mind if we tabled the discussion until later?”
He hesitated, then nodded his agreement. “Would you like me to get you something to drink?”
“Yes, please.”
She wasn’t all that thirsty, but she did need some time alone. Her composure had scattered and she had to collect herself before the formal dinner.
Sadik headed for the bar, but his mind was not on his task. A baby. When his father had mentioned Cleo was pregnant, Sadik had known right away that the child had to be his. He’d felt delighted by the news.
Now that he had confirmation, elation welled up inside of him. He wanted to announce the news to the world. Still, he would keep the secret until after Zara’s wedding. Cleo’s concern for her sister was well-founded.
How long had he longed for a son? After Kamra’s death, he had put aside his plans for a family. He’d known that eventually he would have to marry and have children, but he’d had no desire to hurry the process. This unexpected bounty made him pleased with the world.
He requested the club soda and lime, then headed back to where he’d left Cleo. He could see her sitting on a chair by the wall. She looked stunned—as if their encounter had drained her. She needed her rest, he decided. He would make sure she was in bed early that evening. She needed her strength so that his son would grow and develop inside of her.
They were bound now, he thought. Cleo would always be the mother of his son. The concept should have discomfited him, yet it did not. She had many fine qualities to pass on to their child. She continued to challenge and defy him, even now. He would very much enjoy the process of taming her.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Zara said as the carriage moved forward. She perched uneasily on the edge of the cushioned seat in the open conveyance, her flowers gripped tightly in her hand.
Cleo sat opposite and tried not to mind that she was facing the wrong direction. As the bride, it was right that Zara should face forward. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t mind. However, while her morning sickness seemed to have disappeared, her stomach often felt faintly unsettled, leaving Cleo concerned that the tossing-her-cookies portion of her pregnancy might make an unexpected return.
“Just smile and wave,” Cleo said, glancing at the crowd lining either side of the road.
Their open, horse-drawn carriage moved slowly, accompanied by cheers and whistles from those who had come out to watch. Mounted guards rode next to them, as much to be part of the spectacle as to offer protection. Cleo figured it was unlikely that anyone was about to kidnap the king’s daughter.
“I don’t think I can do this,” Zara said softly, her face pale, her eyes wide.
“You’ll be fine.” Cleo motioned to her dress. “I don’t think you can return that.”
Zara laughed, then smoothed the front of her designer creation. The long-sleeved wedding gown looked like something out of a fairy tale. Hand-sewn beads caught the sunlight. Yards and yards of silk and lace cascaded to the ground. With her hair upswept and anchored by an antique tiara, Zara was truly a royal princess.
Cleo figured even she didn’t look half-bad. Her rose-colored gown had been cut low and fell straight from below her bodice. The empire style concealed her stomach, which seemed to have suddenly puffed out in the past couple of days. Zara wore diamonds at her ears and around her throat, while Cleo had been accessorized with pearls. Diamond and pearl earrings glittered on her lobes. A stunning circle of pearls, decorated with a diamond enhancer, draped down to the curve of her breasts.
“I’m going to throw up,” Zara announced.
“You’re going to be fine. Keep smiling and waving. It’s not a big job, especially for someone with all your education.”
Zara laughed again. “Okay. You’re distracting me. I like that.”
Cleo switched her cascade of flowers to her other hand. “I’m having second thoughts about refusing the tiara. Do you think I should have worn it?”
Zara glanced at her spiky hair. “Could we have anchored it?”
They had a detailed conversation about the pros and cons of hair accessories, then Cleo switched the conversation to shoes. They pulled up in front of the church before Zara had a chance to realize where they were.
A uniformed guard approached their carriage. King Hassan had ridden with the groom in a carriage in front of theirs. The princes shared the one behind Zara’s, with Sabrina and her husband bringing up the rear.
The small door was opened and Cleo rose to exit first assisted by the waiting footmen. She managed to get down the two steps without falling. Although she didn’t actually look for Sadik, she was aware of him. The man watched her constantly. She tried to take comfort in his attention, but knew that it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with the baby.
Don’t go there now, she told herself. This day was about Zara.
Her sister managed to get out of the carriage without a mishap. Sabrina joined them, urging them into the church. At the top of the stairs leading into the building, they turned and waved to the waiting crowd. A cheer rose.
“Keep breathing,” Sabrina said as they stepped into the cool darkness of the foyer.
Sabrina’s husband had already escorted the groom and the princes up the aisle. The organ music changed, cueing the women that it was time.
Sabrina stood in front, with Cleo to follow. Hassan stopped and kissed his daughter, then stepped next to Cleo.
“You are beauty personified,” he murmured, touching his lips to her cheek. “I am most proud.”
Cleo wondered if he was talking about the baby. As far as she could tell, the king still didn’t know that Sadik was the father, but maybe his son had told him the truth. Either way, this wasn’t the time for a lengthy conversation.
She gave Hassan a smile. He squeezed her hand, then moved behind her to stand next to Zara.
The twenty-foot double wooden
doors opened, revealing the crowded church and the long center aisle. Cleo’s stomach clenched.
Sabrina turned around and winked. “Show time,” she said in a stage whisper. “If you get nervous, picture everyone naked.”
Chapter Six
Cleo hadn’t thought the actual wedding through. She’d seen the stacks and stacks of replies from every corner of the globe. She’d seen the gift rooms and had attended the rehearsal in the massive church. But nothing had prepared her for the vast space to be crammed full of members of the extended royal family, visiting dignitaries, family friends and a couple of thousand guests.
Organ music soared to the arched ceiling of the fourteenth-century church. Saints watched from stained-glass windows, their hands outstretched.
Cleo found herself shaking with unexpected nerves. The only thing that kept her going was watching Sabrina ahead of her. Zara’s half sister moved slowly, in time with the music. Cleo kept her pace even as she struggled to not turn and run.
She could hear the faint murmurings of the guests as they watched her. At least her bouquet of flowers cascaded down to her knees, hiding her bulging belly. She didn’t want there to be any speculation—not on Zara’s day.
As she approached the front of the church, she saw Rafe. He grinned at her, then looked past her as the organ music shifted to the wedding march. Everyone stood. Cleo wanted to turn around and watch her sister, but she still had about ten feet to go. Her gaze lingered on Rafe, and she watched his expression change to one of love and wonder. He looked as if he’d been waiting for Zara all his life.
Perhaps he had, Cleo thought as she stepped into place next to Sabrina. Perhaps she was his one true love.
Cleo casually glanced at Sadik, who stood behind Prince Kardal, who was Sabrina’s husband. Sadik didn’t seem to care that the bride had entered the church. He stared at Cleo as if he could claim her with a look.
She fought against a feeling of sadness. Possession was not love, and whatever feelings he had for her were just about the baby. Intense longing filled her—longing for what Zara had. A family, a man who loved her more than anyone in the world, a place to belong. Was it so wrong to want to be a part of something? She’d spent her whole life on the fringes, always on the outside looking in. She had a bad feeling that wasn’t going to change.
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