by Kay Thorpe
Kahlil gave a short, ugly laugh. ‘I would have thought that was obvious.’
‘Not to me, I’m afraid,’ Lucy said. ‘I can give Edward everything he will ever need. I don’t need you.’
‘Oh, really?’ Kahlil observed softly. ‘That’s not what you said to me once.’
The sharp reminder of their one night of passion sent a clear message. He thought she was an opportunist who seized the moment when it suited her. And in some ways he was right. She had been vulnerable then—at her lowest ebb. And in those few ecstatic hours, yes, she had needed him.
‘What do you hope to gain from this?’
‘Nothing,’ Lucy assured him. ‘And that’s a low thing to say, Kahlil. It’s not worthy, even of you. I don’t want anything—how many times do I have to tell you that? As far as I’m concerned you can cancel my contract—’
‘And allow you to leave Abadan with the job half finished and a child who might be my son?’
‘It’s good to see you’ve got your priorities straight,’ Lucy said tensely. ‘The contract first, your son second!’
‘My son?’ Kahlil repeated softly.
The blood drained out of Lucy’s face. His presence of mind at the critical moment had allowed him to uncover the truth. ‘I won’t stay here,’ she whispered.
‘You’ll do whatever I tell you to do.’
‘I’ll call the Embassy—’
‘Call away,’ Kahlil invited, glancing down at a telephone on the table. ‘It will do you no good. A simple paternity test will establish whether or not I am Edward’s father. And if the test proves positive no embassy on earth will dare to come between me and my son.’
‘But you don’t even know him,’ Lucy said. ‘You don’t know Edward at all!’
‘We have made a very good start,’ Kahlil observed coolly. ‘I see no reason why we cannot grow even closer—’
‘But I’m his mother,’ Lucy interjected. ‘You can’t take him away from me.’
‘This is my country,’ Kahlil said calmly, ‘and here in Abadan my word is law. My people support me in everything I do. They trust me. If they hear that I have a son they will be overjoyed, and he will never be allowed to leave the country—unless, of course, I agree to it.’
He wanted Lucy to be hurt as he had been hurt, Kahlil realised, hearing himself land blow after verbal blow. But he had been staggered by the child’s likeness to him. Edward was a true Saeed Al-Sharif. With or without the test, he knew his firstborn was in the palace now. It was a life-changing moment. Edward would one day inherit the throne of Abadan.
Lucy Benson had denied him the chance to know his son. How could such a betrayal go unpunished? She had denied him a whole year of Edward’s life…a whole year when he hadn’t even known of his son’s existence. He would never forgive her for that.
‘So, what are you saying?’ Lucy demanded.
‘If Edward proves to be my son he will stay in Abadan, with or without you.’
‘No!’ she said, shaking her head in disbelief. ‘If you cared for Edward at all, you wouldn’t say such a thing.’
‘If Edward is my son I should have the chance to care for him as much as you!’
Their voices were raised, and anger crackled in the air as they confronted each other head-on. Neither one of them heard the door open.
‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ Leila said, hovering on the threshold. ‘I forgot something for Edward.’
Hearing their son’s name, both Kahlil and Lucy turned around at the same moment.
As they stared at him, Edward frowned, and then quite suddenly erupted into noisy, heart-wrenching sobs.
CHAPTER FIVE
LUCY woke herself up the next morning thrashing about on the bed. For one brief moment she was totally elated, knowing it was Edward’s birthday, but then she remembered the previous day’s events. They came pouring into her waking mind, leaving no room for happy thoughts, crushing her beneath the fear of what Kahlil might do.
She was in danger, Lucy realised, and, worse, she had put Edward in danger. When he had begun to cry the previous evening she had felt the same fierce and protective instinct she always experienced where any threat to him was concerned. But this time she had seen something similar in Kahlil’s face. They had both hurried across to comfort him, but for the first time ever Edward had turned away from her, burrowing his face into Leila’s chest instead. Wheeling on his heels, Kahlil had left them as silently as he had arrived. But the look in his eyes would stay with her for ever. It frightened her. Instead of this being one of the happiest days of her life, as she had always imagined it would be, she had never felt more alone, or more vulnerable.
Lucy swung out of bed, knowing the tap at the door heralded the arrival of a breakfast tray. Under other circumstances it might have been a welcome distraction, but with a few short words of thanks Lucy waved it away. The last thing she felt like was eating. She had settled Edward into the adjoining nursery at bedtime, staying with him until he was asleep, and she wanted to be the first to greet him on this, his special day.
She had left the door between their rooms slightly ajar, fearing the worst, without knowing what the worst might be. At one point she had even contemplated bringing Edward into her own bed, to be sure of him, but he had been sleeping so soundly she hadn’t liked to wake him. Now she could hear him crowing with delight, as he always did when the sun shone brightly. And the sun always shone in Abadan, Lucy realised tensely as she hurried across the room.
Reaching the nursery, Lucy swept Edward into her arms, taking pleasure and comfort from his innocent baby scent. Just holding him close and feeling his warmth seemed to renew her strength and determination. She turned to cross to the windows and draw back the heavy curtains properly, then made a small sound of shock when she saw Kahlil standing in the shadows by the door, arms folded, watching her.
‘Good morning, Lucy.’
She stood frozen, immobile, aware that at the sound of his father’s voice Edward’s level of excitement had increased. And now he was reaching out, leaning across, making it difficult for her to hold him.
‘Shall I take him?’
Before she could reply Edward was taken from her arms, and she watched as Kahlil lifted him high above his head. She saw identical dark brown eyes lock and laugh together, and the identical sweep of thick black lashes cast shadows over olive skin. They were a pair, father and son, interchangeable, their faces so similar that Edward might have been Kahlil at a younger age. The realisation chilled Lucy as she watched them. And the look in Kahlil’s eyes chilled her even more. As far as he was concerned she was a nothing, a nobody—just someone standing on the sidelines watching as Kahlil ben Saeed Al-Sharif laid claim to his son.
There was no time to lose, Lucy realised as Edward ran the tip of one finger curiously down the folds of Kahlil’s flowing black headdress. She had to take Edward away from Abadan. But it would be difficult and dangerous.
Dressed for riding, in a tight fitting black polo shirt, duncoloured breeches and boots, Kahlil looked every bit the desert prince, the warrior prince, and Lucy’s stomach clenched with apprehension as he stared at her. Tilting her chin at a defiant angle, she stared right back. In spite of the way her body insisted on responding to him, she would not weaken—not where her son was concerned. Kahlil might think every woman could be bent to his will, but he was about to learn that, in her case at least, they could not.
Escape from Abadan—the thought chilled her to the marrow. But what alternative did she have? She had to make plans before matters were taken out of her hands entirely. Whatever the risks, she would not lose Edward.
She would not lose her son.
Leila’s arrival, and the routine she automatically put into action, left Kahlil and Lucy with little to do other than stand tensely as the young nanny swept Edward off for his morning bath. Lucy was relieved when Kahlil left the room then, without a word or a backward glance. There was no reason for him to stay now, and with Edward gone, and a business
meeting later that morning, Lucy left for her own quarters.
Calling in one last time, to say goodbye to Edward before her meeting, Lucy found the nursery alive with activity. Edward was dressed in Arab dress and sitting happily on his play mat. He looked so different. And yet there was nothing wrong with Leila dressing him in the local costume, Lucy told herself; it was cooler for him.
Edward was so happily engaged with the presents in front of him that, once again, he barely noticed her. Normally she wouldn’t have taken it to heart, but today was different. This was Kahlil’s doing, Lucy realised indignantly. He had made a point of coming back to the nursery before her and showering Edward with far too many gifts. She would not have Edward growing up spoiled and arrogant like his father, careless of other people’s feelings. Resentment reared up inside her, but she forced it down quickly when Leila came towards her across the room. None of this was the young girl’s fault.
‘I’ll save this until after the meeting,’ Lucy said, placing her own carefully wrapped parcel on the table. ‘Please don’t let Edward open it until I come back.’
But Edward was far too preoccupied with a box containing a toy Lamborghini to even notice he had yet another package to open.
‘Of course I won’t,’ Leila said, glancing at her charge. ‘Sheikh Kahlil came by,’ she added, ‘with lots of presents.’
‘So I see,’ Lucy said dryly. ‘Don’t worry, you’ve done nothing wrong,’ she said, seeing the concern on Leila’s face. ‘Edward’s going to have a great birthday. Everyone has been so kind.’ But poor Leila looked more dubious than ever. ‘Well, at least Edward’s happy, and that’s all that matters,’ Lucy said firmly, moving away to escape the younger woman’s scrutiny.
Picking her son up, she hid her face in his baby warmth for a few moments. ‘And now there’s a party to organise,’ she said brightly, pulling back. ‘What is it, Leila?’ she added, turning when she heard the nanny’s muted exclamation. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I’m really sorry, but—’
‘Go on,’ Lucy prompted.
‘When Sheikh Kahlil came back to the nursery he was accompanied by one of his aides. He left instructions that you weren’t to concern yourself with the party. He said he would make all the arrangements for Edward’s birthday.’
‘Did he indeed?’ Lucy murmured tensely.
‘It will be fantastic,’ Leila said reassuringly.
‘I’m sure it will be,’ Lucy said, releasing Edward onto his mat again. ‘I’ll make sure of it.’
Lucy saw the look of concern that settled on Leila’s face, but she was determined to have some input into Edward’s first birthday party. Kahlil had no official part to play in Edward’s life—not yet.
She gazed around at the piles of expensive gifts. Kahlil must have rung the nearest toy shop and had everything appropriate to Edward’s age delivered to the palace. He was already sure Edward was his son! But proof would be needed, Lucy realised, feeling a stab of fear. ‘Did anyone touch Edward while I was away?’
‘No, of course not,’ Leila said. ‘Except—’
‘Yes?’ Lucy pressed tensely.
‘Sheikh Kahlil played with him, of course, and lifted him up.’
Leila’s innocent account was very frightening to Lucy. ‘And Edward was OK with that?’
‘Of course,’ Leila said promptly. ‘Edward loves Sheikh Kahlil.’ Seeing Lucy’s expression, she amended quickly, ‘What I mean is, Sheikh Kahlil makes him laugh.’
Lucy forced a smile onto her face. ‘But no one else touched him? You’re sure?’ The possibility of a DNA test being carried out without her permission was niggling at her mind.
‘No, of course not,’ Leila said adamantly. ‘You know I wouldn’t let anyone near Edward—apart from the Sheikh.’ But she still looked very worried as she held Lucy’s stare.
Leila was wondering what on earth she had got herself into, Lucy realised. ‘I don’t mean to criticise you,’ she said quickly. ‘It’s just that we’re in a strange country, and I have to be sure in my mind that Edward is safe.’
‘I understand, and I won’t ever leave him alone.’
‘I believe you,’ Lucy assured the young nanny gently. ‘And maybe I’m being too hasty about that party. The Sheikh’s people will surely know where to get everything we need.’
‘Absolutely,’ Leila agreed, brightening. ‘They’re even talking about having a funfair for all the children at the palace.’
‘That would be fantastic,’ Lucy agreed. She felt a little better knowing that Edward’s birthday provided an excuse for a general celebration where everyone would have fun.
‘Shall I take Edward, so that you can prepare for your meeting?’ Leila suggested.
‘I’m ready now—but what I’d really like is a few minutes alone with him—if you don’t mind?’
‘Of course I don’t mind,’ Leila said, touching her arm lightly.
The kindly gesture brought tears rushing to Lucy’s eyes. She blinked them away quickly, before Leila saw. But she sensed the young girl already knew there was something very wrong.
Lucy was glad of the meeting, to discuss the design project in depth. It was a complete change of pace, and one she badly needed.
Everything went smoothly in the Council Chamber, where Kahlil behaved as if there was nothing between them other than business. He even made it possible for her to go through the agenda quickly, as if he too was in a rush to get away. And when the meeting drew to a close he left the room before she even had time to tidy up her papers.
She felt the tension starting to drain out of her the moment the door closed behind him. She was in good time to help prepare for the birthday celebrations. All she had to do was change into something more suitable for a children’s party.
Lucy stood amazed at the top of a sweeping flight of marble steps overlooking the palace garden. A huge part of the grounds had been transformed into a fairground, with stalls and a skittle alley, and even a full-sized carousel, all shielded from the sun by giant-sized marquees. Clowns walked about on stilts, distributing flags and streamers to the crowds of children with their parents and teachers, and hurdy-gurdy music blasted out from several speakers. Where money was no object, anything was possible, she realised.
She had changed into jeans, sneakers and a blue gingham shirt, ready for action. Just as well, since many of the rides were suitable for Edward. At the moment he was sitting patiently in his buggy, by her side, but she knew his apparent contentment was misleading and wouldn’t last long.
The marquees were air-conditioned, Lucy discovered when she wheeled Edward inside the largest tent.
‘Sheikh Kahlil thinks of everything,’ Leila commented.
‘Yes, he does,’ Lucy said—though whether that was a good thing…‘I hardly know where to start first,’ she murmured, looking around.
‘How about the carousel?’
Lucy jumped with shock at the sound of Kahlil’s voice. She had been so sure he would not be there. At the meeting earlier he had given her the impression that he had somewhere important to go; a children’s party was the last thing she had imagined. He was casually dressed in jeans, and a shirt rolled up to the elbows—just like the first time they’d met. It was a painful reminder. Gazing up, transfixed, Lucy found she could hardly breathe, barely speak.
‘Well?’ Kahlil said.
‘Well, what?’ Lucy queried distractedly. And then she realised he wasn’t speaking to her at all, but to Edward. And Edward was holding out his arms, waiting for Kahlil to lift him up.
Dipping down to sweep his son out of the pushchair, Kahlil lifted him high in the air. Lucy saw his mouth settle in a look of supreme pride and satisfaction, and then, settling him on his shoulders, he walked off.
Sheikh or no sheikh, bodyguards or whatever else might stand in her way, Lucy wasn’t going to let Kahlil get away with that. Pushing through the crowds, she had almost caught up with him when security men stepped in front of her, barring her way.
‘Let her pass.’ Kahlil’s voice was low, but commanding, and they backed off immediately.
‘You can’t do this, Kahlil,’ Lucy said tensely. ‘You can’t just take Edward away from me without a word of explanation.’
Glancing up to reassure himself that Edward was too busy watching the painted horses to notice the tension, Kahlil speared a look at her. ‘And you can’t stop me getting to know this boy any longer—a boy who is probably my son.’
‘Don’t you think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself?’
‘Am I? There is only one way to resolve this beyond doubt,’ he said, settling Edward in front of him on one of the carousel ponies.
‘And what is that?’ Lucy said tensely, glad that Edward was too excited to notice the high-octane discussion being carried out in murmurs above his head.
‘We will have a DNA test carried out.’
‘No!’ Lucy had known it would come to this. But she’d wanted it to happen away from Abadan, where she might have some control over the repercussions. ‘Don’t spoil his birthday—please, Kahlil,’ she begged. ‘Please, just drop it for today.’
Fleetingly, Kahlil looked as if he might consider her appeal, and Lucy’s hopes soared. She didn’t want to deny Kahlil the right to know his son, or keep Edward from his father. She just wanted a little more time. But then the raucous music started up again and she was left alone, while Kahlil and Edward began moving slowly away from her.
He had forgotten that it was possible to have so much innocent fun, Kahlil thought wryly as the carousel came to a halt at the end of the ride. It was a relaxation for him to be just one of many adults taking their small children for a ride on the gaudy machine. He felt elated. He had felt nothing quite like it before.
He gritted his jaw, seeing Lucy was still standing where they had left her. There was no question in his mind about Edward; they were uncannily alike. He glanced around, wondering if anyone else had noticed. But his bond with the child went deeper than appearance, Kahlil reflected, getting ready to dismount; there was real chemistry between them. And their character was identical, he noticed with amusement, when Edward refused to get down from his perch.
