The last member of staff to greet her was Tadj’s housekeeper, who invited her inside the Emir of Qalala’s beautiful country home, making Lucy feel so welcome she could almost believe this was more than an escape route for Lucy and a necessary pause for Tadj during which time he could soak in the startling fact that she was pregnant with his child and make plans accordingly.
She had just been shown into the library. Tadj was waiting in the huge and very beautiful book-lined room, where the scent of old leather and a roaring fire created a deceptively relaxed setting. Lucy perched on the edge of a sofa, while the housekeeper said she would order tea. When the door had closed behind her, Tadj lost no time making his intentions clear. This wasn’t the fun guy from the café, but the Emir of Qalala claiming his prize. ‘I’ve missed you,’ he said. ‘I believe we have unfinished business.’
His look scorched her, and with a million and one things she could have said—and maybe should have said—what came to her lips was, ‘Yes...’
His big stride ate up the room, and within moments he had raised her to her feet. Cupping her face in his hands, he stared deep into her eyes as if he would know every secret in her heart.
With only the thin stuff of Lucy’s red dress dividing them, he could feel her heart beating against his chest like the thrum of a hummingbird’s wing.
‘Nervous?’ he queried softly. ‘Or guilty?’
‘Neither,’ she assured him with the spirit he loved.
The sweep of her eyelashes created crescent shadows on her cheeks, making her even more beautiful, if such a thing were possible. She was young and vulnerable, and he should have known better, but when he was committed to a certain path he had never been known to change direction. He’d missed her more than he’d realised, and not just the sex, which, admittedly, had been astonishing. He’d missed Lucy—the essence of Lucy, and every little thing about her that made her unique. No other woman had ever come close, and nor would they. The royal marriage mart was a bank of tedium, full of women who held no appeal. At least, not for him. Who could after Lucy? But he’d always worked in the best interests of Qalala, and he always would, and a state marriage was just one more thing expected of him. Finding a suitable wife was—
‘Stop,’ Lucy gasped, pushing him away as he drove his mouth down on hers. ‘You’re kissing me as if this is your last day on earth. Why?’ she asked, her green eyes full of what he believed to be genuine concern.
‘You,’ he said honestly. ‘You drive me to the edge of reason.’
‘Funny,’ she said without a smile. ‘I’ve thought the same about you. Truce?’ she suggested.
Tempting, he thought. Nothing had changed since their first night together. He still wanted her, and Lucy’s response to him said she felt the same. The initial shock of learning he was about to become the father to her unborn child was fading. They were consenting adults with no restrictions, and a loving mistress would always be better than a compliant wife. He kissed her again, this time tenderly, and as he caressed her face he was convinced that a dynamic relationship such as this was infinitely preferable to a negotiated marriage. Savouring their reunion was becoming easier by the moment. They were good together, and good for each other.
‘Are you seducing me?’ Lucy asked when finally he let her go. ‘You’re doing a pretty good job,’ she told him before he had chance to answer.
Nothing fazed her. Lucy kept his feet on the ground, which was a big plus in her favour, especially when he recalled some of the over-indulged princesses who were paraded in front of him on a regular basis, so he could assess them as potential brides. ‘You don’t sound too unhappy about being seduced,’ he observed.
‘Maybe because I’m not.’ Her low, sexy laugh vibrated through him. ‘Just not here in the library while we’re waiting for tea.’ She gave a sharp cry of pleasure as he teased her by rasping his stubble just below her ear.
‘So, don’t scream too loud,’ he advised. ‘Would you like me to lock the door?’ When it came to choosing between a mistress like Lucy and an obedient wife, Lucy made it no contest. His hunt for a wife could wait.
I’ve missed you so much it hurts, Lucy thought as Tadj brought her into his arms. Heartache, she had discovered, was a real, physical pain. Would it ease, or would it have been better if they’d never met again? For Tadj, she was certain the answer to that was yes, but she must leave the country, and he was her best, perhaps her only chance, so, while this was everything she needed and wanted, guilt reminded her that it was also a form of deceit in its way. This magnificent mansion with its history and elegant architecture only emphasised the fact that it was just a fraction of Tadj’s global wealth. Whatever she did or said, when he found out she was using him to leave the country, he could only think she was after his money like all the rest.
‘We’ll be leaving for Qalala in the morning,’ he said, distracting her with kisses.
‘So soon.’ She knew she should be glad, but, though they’d shared the greatest intimacy of all, they didn’t know each other that well, and with every step it seemed she was leaving the familiar behind, and moving deeper into a world she didn’t know.
‘Don’t look so worried,’ he said, pulling back to stare into her face. ‘You’ll enjoy every privilege that comes with the position of official mistress.’
She gasped at the gulf between them, and Tadj’s lack of understanding for how that statement made her feel. He couldn’t have heard her, as he went on, ‘I accept the term mistress might sound quaint to you, but it’s all I’ve got.’
If that was meant to be funny, it missed its mark. ‘Your whore, don’t you mean?’
Tadj’s expression changed in an instant. ‘I’m sorry you see it like that,’ he said stiffly. He moved away from her, as if putting space between them would somehow help.
How else was she supposed to see it? Lucy wondered as a polite tap came on the door. ‘That must be tea,’ she said, realising how close she had come to spoiling her chance to escape the reach of her stepfather. She had a baby to think about now, as well as her mother. This wasn’t all about her and what her pride would allow.
Standing up, she crossed the room and opened the door to admit the smiling housekeeper. She even surprised herself with her acting skills as she made space on a low table for the tray. ‘Thank you. This is just what we need.’ Any distraction would do, even when it came in the form of scones and jam.
‘So, you agree to my proposal?’ Tadj demanded the moment the door had closed behind his housekeeper.
‘To become your mistress? I can’t say it’s my career goal. If I accompany you to Qalala, it will be because I want to.’ And because I need to, Lucy silently admitted, feeling conflicted and wretched as she added distractedly, ‘And because it will give us chance to decide on visitation rights.’
‘Visitation rights?’ Tadj exploded. ‘This is the child of the Emir of Qalala you’re talking about.’
She must calm things down. Everything depended on how she handled this. ‘I’ll come with you, not because of any so-called privileges, but because I choose to come for the good of the baby.’ She drew a deep breath, relaxing a little, because that much was true. ‘I’m quite capable of earning my own living.’
Tadj said nothing. He’d turned his attention to some documents on his desk. ‘No tea,’ he said curtly when she filled a cup and put it in front of him. ‘You might as well go to your room.’
She was being dismissed like a child? ‘Before I go, I need this address, as well as our address in Qalala. I need to let people know.’
‘Qalala?’ He glanced up briefly. ‘The palace, of course.’
‘Fair enough,’ Lucy