‘Oh, no,’ Emma protested. ‘I couldn’t do that.’
‘Why not?’ Danny frowned. ‘I’ll speak to the manager for you.’
‘If you’re sure...?’ Emma’s face lit up.
‘I’m certain. It will be good to catch up. I had no idea you were married—’
Danny stopped—blanched—wanted to cut out her tongue. She knew immediately from the look on Emma’s face and Lizzie’s sudden tension that she’d said the entirely wrong thing.
‘Sorry—I didn’t mean to infer anything.’
‘It’s an easy mistake to make,’ Emma insisted. ‘But please don’t be embarrassed—I’m not. I couldn’t be happier.’
‘That’s obvious,’ Danny said warmly. ‘So the three of us are going to share this exciting trip into motherhood together? You are sticking around?’ she confirmed with Emma.
Emma was just about to answer when Tiago strolled up to introduce them to a man—presumably another polo player, from the look of him—who might safely be called intimidating if you were of a nervous disposition.
Thankfully, Danny was not. She was used to daunting men, she thought as she glanced at Tiago, but for some reason she clutched Emma’s hand a little tighter. She felt protective towards the young girl—and not just because Tiago’s timing was so badly off. The little she knew about Emma’s family suggested there would be no support for the young girl there, and Emma must be barely out of college—if she had even finished college at all.
There was a mystery here, Danny suspected. Emma had been such a promising student, and so serious about her career.
‘Don’t look so worried,’ Emma whispered discreetly, before pulling away to leave Danny to mingle with her guests. ‘I’m a lot tougher than I look.’
She would have to be, Danny concluded with concern as she noticed the daunting polo player staring after Emma. A vivacious, pretty girl like Emma would always attract plenty of male attention.
She turned back to Tiago, who was waiting to introduce her.
‘Danny, this is Lucas Marcelos—another reprobate on the polo circuit.’
‘I’m very pleased to meet you, Lucas,’ she said politely. ‘Welcome to Scotland.’
Danny’s heart plummeted when she noticed that Lucas’s attention was still fixed on Emma—though he covered his distraction fast, turning to face Danny with a stare that was piercing in its intensity.
‘Tiago warned me you were beautiful,’ he said, ‘but now I see he was understating the case.’
Lucas’s voice was deep and accented, and for some reason it sent shivers down Danny’s spine. She was glad when Tiago moved to stand between them.
‘You’re a lucky man,’ Lucas told Tiago. ‘I don’t know what you’ve done to deserve such a woman, but you should give me your secret.’
‘I love her. It’s as simple as that and as complicated,’ Tiago admitted as he looped a protective arm around Danny’s shoulders. ‘And she keeps me in line.’
‘Which you like?’ Lucas sounded incredulous at this.
‘Which I adore,’ Tiago insisted, in a way no man in his right mind would choose to argue with. ‘You should try it some day, Lucas—find out for yourself.’
‘That, my friend, is never going to happen.’
‘You’d be surprised,’ Tiago murmured, turning back to Danny as Lucas strolled away.
‘Wow!’ Danny released her pent-up tension in a gust of relief. ‘Was I just scorched by an overload of testosterone, or was that a hologram of a very angry and frustrated man?’
‘That, chica, was a good friend of mine who has taken more hits from life than he should have done. But I don’t want to talk about Lucas now. I want to concentrate on you—if you don’t mind?’
‘I don’t mind at all.’
Danny shook off the feeling of unease Lucas had given her as Tiago drew her into the shadows, where they could be alone for a moment, but she did feel sorry for Lucas. To be alone was not an enviable position to be in. She just hoped Lucas wouldn’t decide to take out his bitter energies on young Emma tonight—because Emma was also alone, and a good deal more defenceless than a successful polo player like Lucas Marcelos.
‘Danny?’
She gazed up at her husband, rejoicing that they were together. No one and nothing would ever part them again, and soon there would be a new addition to the Santos family.
‘I love you with all my heart,’ Tiago whispered against her mouth, kissing her tenderly and repeatedly. ‘And I can’t bear to share you with anyone. Is that terrible of me?’
‘Not at all.’ Standing on tiptoe, she kissed him back.
‘And now we’re going to be three—’
‘Or four—who knows?’ she teased him.
‘You’ve made me very happy,’ Tiago growled, staring deep into her eyes. ‘And that was before you gave me the news of our baby.’
Danny’s gaze dropped to the firm, sexy mouth of the man she loved. ‘Did you say you had taken a suite at the hotel, so we could freshen up after the blessing if we needed to?’
‘That’s right. I have,’ Tiago confirmed.
‘I need to freshen up.’ She looked at him.
‘Strange,’ Tiago murmured, brushing her mouth with his. ‘So do I...’
* * * * *
Read on for an extract from THE SHEIKH’S PRINCESS BRIDE by Annie West.
CHAPTER ONE
THE DARK-HAIRED TOTS playing on the far side of the sumptuous hotel lounge held Samira’s gaze. They weren’t loud or boisterous, the middle-aged woman with them saw to that. They were just a pair of ordinary toddlers.
Yet Samira couldn’t drag her eyes away from them. She watched the progress of one little boy as he walked the length of a sofa, his fingers splayed on the silk upholstery for support. He gurgled his delight and grinned at his companion who wobbled along behind him.
Samira swallowed. That hollow feeling was back, worse now, turning into a twisting stab of hurt that knifed all the way from her womb up high under her ribs.
She tried to focus on Celeste’s animated chatter about a new restaurant. Apparently it had unrivalled rooftop views of the Eiffel Tower as well as several Michelin stars and was the new place to eat and be seen.
Samira’s stomach rebelled at the mention of food.
Or maybe it was something else that made her insides clench so hard.
The second toddler landed on his bottom, arms waving, and the woman—grandmother? Nanny?—gathered him up. Samira’s arms twitched then fell, lax and empty, into her lap.
She blinked and turned away.
Empty. That was exactly how she felt.
She would never have a child of her own to hold. The doctor had made that clear.
She’d tried so hard to regroup these past four years, and she’d come so far, but nothing could erase that searing, hollow ache within.
‘I’m so pleased you can attend tonight’s charity auction in person.’ Celeste leaned across their porcelain teacups and Samira swung her gaze back to the pretty Parisienne. ‘Bidders will adore the chance to meet the talented princess behind the gorgeous fashions. Your