The Sheikh's Baby Scandal(15)

‘Well, it’s stunning, but...’ She let out a breath and then decided she should perhaps check before being completely frank. ‘Kedah, do you really want me to criticise one of your babies?’

I dare you to, his eyes told her. ‘Go on,’ he said politely.

‘Well, as nice as it all is, I find it to be a bit impersonal,’ Felicia responded, and she watched his tongue roll into his cheek. ‘You did ask.’

‘I did.’

‘It just needs those extra touches,’ Felicia offered.

‘Such as...?’

‘I don’t know.’ She shrugged. ‘Maybe coloured towels, or something. I’m sick of white.’

She was—for she looked at his robe and she wanted it gone. She looked down to her hands and wanted them to be suddenly wrapped in his.

And that was the trouble with Kedah.

Not the terribly long hours, nor the jet lag, and it wasn’t even the endless little black book she ran for him.

It was this.

These moments sitting with him.

These moments when flirting was a thought away...when she felt every conversation would be better executed in bed.

‘You can do better than that,’ he said.

Felicia had to drag her mind back to their conversation, actually force herself to remember they were discussing his hotel and not lean across the table and tell him that, yes, she could do far, far better.

‘I don’t have much experience in hospitality, remember?’ she snapped wondering for possibly the millionth time what the hell he had hired her for.

Kedah could be boring!

Truly.

It was a terrible thing to admit but, just as when he had dimmed the lights and, instead of thrilling her, had proceeded to numb her brain with his hotel presentation, now—when they were in sumptuous surroundings and there was all this energy present—they sat discussing, of all things, towels.

He was driving her to distraction.

‘The décor is black and brown in my American chain of hotels,’ Kedah mused. ‘The towels there are too.’

‘Yum...’ Felicia snarked.

‘It actually works very well.’

‘Why am I here, Kedah?’ She was exhausted with not knowing. ‘Why are we sitting here discussing bloody towels...?’

‘Décor is important.’

‘Then hire someone who cares!’ she snapped. ‘And tell me why I’m here.’

‘You’ll know when you need to.’

‘Are you married?’ The question tumbled out. ‘Was there a drunken mistake that turned into a Mrs Kedah that I’m going to have to explain away?’

‘Is that why you were asking about Vegas?’

He put his head back and laughed and she wanted her mouth on his throat.

‘Felicia, I’m not married.’

‘Is there a baby...?’

‘You have too much imagination.’

‘Er... Kedah, I don’t think you and your lady-friends are merely holding hands. Accidents happen.’

‘Not to me,’ he said. ‘I make sure of that.’

He honestly admired Felicia, because even as they discussed his strict use of birth control she didn’t blush.

‘However,’ he mused, ‘it wouldn’t be a problem.’

‘Your father would welcome the news?’ Felicia asked, in a somewhat sarcastic tone, but it didn’t faze him.

‘It would be dealt with. I wouldn’t be the first Crown Prince in our history to have a child out of wedlock. But Vadia would deal with that sort of thing—not you. Enough now,’ he said, and went back to his schedule. ‘We’ll meet in the foyer at five tomorrow morning and get to Zazinia around midday,’ he said. ‘My time will be taken up with family stuff. There won’t be much for you to do.’

‘So why can’t I just fly home?’

She was itching to get home—for a night in her flat without the alarm set for the crack of dawn the next morning. For a full twenty-four hours away from the burn of his eyes.

‘Because...’

He couldn’t answer straight away. Usually he didn’t bring his London PA home with him. Occasionally he brought Anu, because she was from Zazinia, but there was absolutely no reason for bringing Felicia other than that he wanted her there.

‘It’s cheaper to have you there with me than to fly you home separately.’

‘Oh, please!’ She smiled sweetly.

‘The Crown Prince’s wing is being refurbished. I might need you...’

‘To haul stone from the quarries?’ she teased.

‘To take some photos and jot down my suggestions.’ He was stern. ‘If it’s not too much trouble?’ She really was a terrible PA. ‘As I said, I’ll be busy with formal stuff. My portrait needs to be completed. Then there will be a dinner with my family.’