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Sheikh's Scandal(83)

By:Lucy Monroe


                They made love that night into the wee hours. Stars glittered in the cornflower-blue sky as they cuddled, facing the pulled-back curtains of the tent opening.

                Security guards were in smaller tents around, but she’d learned to forget they were there. Strange how quickly a person could become adjusted to things like that.

                She curled around his body, his arms holding her with fierce possessiveness and a sense of security no weaker for its lack of permanence.

                “When is the blood test?” she asked.

                “Dr. Batsmati will draw a sample tomorrow morning.”

                “And the blood test is one hundred percent accurate?”

                “This one is, yes. It’s why we had to wait a minimum of five days from making love.”

                “Then I guess I’ll move to a hotel soon.”

                “You are assuming it will be negative.”

                “Aren’t you?”

                “No,” he said, shocking her. “I’ve prepared for a positive result.”

                “What do you mean? What will happen if I am pregnant?” The question was academic as far as she was concerned.

                Her body had already started responding as it usually did the week before her period.

                “A royal wedding.”

                “What? What are you saying? We aren’t getting married.” Considering her feelings for him, she should have been thrilled at his words, but panic made her heart race instead.

                She didn’t want him trapped into marriage.

                “If you are pregnant with my child, it is the only course of action open to us.”

                “But I took the pill. I’m not pregnant.”

                He shook his head. “One thing you learn in high-level politics is how real a chance even five percent, much less twenty, can be.”

                “But marriage? You can’t be serious.”

                “Never more so.” He looked down at her, his expression too shadowed to read in light provided by the moon and stars. “Don’t you want to marry me?”

                “That’s not the point.”

                “No, it is not. The point is that you will not raise our child alone.”

                “Why can’t we share custody? I could move to Zeena Sahra.” There was nothing to return home to. No one who would care if she made her life halfway around the world. “There are hotels there. I could continue to build my career.”

                “And be what to our child?”

                Was that a trick question? “Her mother.”

                “How do you propose to do that without causing a great scandal?”

                “And you don’t think marrying me—a chambermaid—would do that?”

                “Lead chambermaid,” he said, proving he remembered their first meeting. “And something more when you weren’t taking a job to provide you access to your father.”