‘I’m sorry?’ she said.
‘Just that,’ he said curtly. ‘Once our child is born, I’ll support you both.’
She stopped dead in the street. ‘Maybe I should get back now.’
‘No—please,’ he added in a more conciliatory tone. ‘Just give me half an hour, and I’ll explain.’
‘I could give you all week, and you still couldn’t say anything to change my mind.’
‘Hear me out,’ he insisted quietly.
She stared at him for a few moments, and then conceded, ‘I agreed to make myself available to talk about our baby, and I will.’
‘Thank you.’
Available? He seethed in silence as they walked on towards the marina. He had come here to take care of Lucy and the baby, and to do his duty by them, not to have Lucy set the rules.
‘I understand how busy you are, so you don’t have to do this,’ she said. ‘You can leave me here.’
‘And we’ll communicate via our monitor screens? I don’t think so,’ he said.
‘What, then?’ she said, throwing her arms wide. ‘As you can see, I’m managing very well without you—’
‘But you don’t have to,’ he broke in. ‘That’s why I’m here. Will you listen to my proposal or not?’
‘Not.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
She shrugged. ‘We need some cooling-off time. I’ll be free from around eleven tomorrow.’
‘You’ll see me now, or not at all,’ he insisted as he linked her arm through his.
‘You can’t just frogmarch me onto your yacht,’ Lucy protested as he strode with her towards the marina. ‘I have my own life, and free will.’ Steel gates swung open at his approach. ‘No, Tadj,’ she said firmly, pulling back.
Feelings roared inside him, and for a moment he felt like a youth again who’d been played. ‘Must we do this in the middle of the street?’
‘No,’ Lucy said in a maddeningly reasonable tone. ‘We can meet again at eleven o’clock tomorrow, when we’ve both had chance to calm down.’
TADJ WAS GRIM-FACED as he returned the salute of his officers as he boarded his yacht. Events had not unfolded as he had anticipated.
This was Lucy, so why expect them to?
The past with all its uncertainties was in his face again, thanks to a woman who had done nothing to deserve his disapproval. In fact, the opposite was true. Rather than wait for him to save the day, Lucy had continued to build a successful future for herself and her child. It was the surprise element of the rain check that got under his skin.
Examining his conscience, he found a few gaps. Had he been completely open with her? Hadn’t he filled her in on what he’d been doing? A word or two would have sufficed—would have changed everything between them. Had he expected Lucy to blithely go along with whatever he decided? When had she ever done that? Seething with impatience to see her again, he glanced at his watch. The countdown to tomorrow had begun.
* * *
Had she gone too far turning Tadj down? Would she even see him again? Lucy wondered as she got ready for the party. He was the Emir of Qalala, after all, not the guy in the café who’d taken whatever she’d thrown at him in the spirit it was intended. They’d both changed, and no wonder Tadj had lost his sense of humour. She’d had no idea on that first encounter what a rigidly structured life the ruler of a powerful country was forced to lead. Surely Tadj had earned some downtime? No one could ever accuse him of short-changing Qalala. Perhaps it was time to allow the people of Qalala to do something for him. Freeing him to be happy would be a start, and the country could only benefit. No slave of duty could ever give their best, in Lucy’s opinion, and she was sad to think Tadj couldn’t love where he chose, or enjoy the freedoms she enjoyed. It was duty first, duty always for the Emir of Qalala, she reflected, putting on a sunny face as she came down the stairs and her friends gathered round. They were keen to find out what had happened when she met up with Tadj. There were no secrets in the workplace.
‘I didn’t want to miss this,’ she said honestly, ‘so we’re meeting again tomorrow morning.’
‘You blew out the Emir of Qalala for the chance to be with us?’ one of her friends demanded with amazement.
‘I wouldn’t miss this for the world.’
That same friend looked at her with concern, and then someone else changed the mood as she exclaimed, ‘Lucy—Lucy—look at all the gifts for the baby. Can we start to open them now?’
‘You shouldn’t have spent your money on me,’ Lucy exclaimed as she confronted the mountain of carefully wrapped gifts. ‘You’ve gone to far too much trouble.’
‘No more than you deserve,’ Miss Francine chimed in firmly. ‘You’re always doing things for us, and now it’s our turn to make a fuss of you.’
Excited exclamations greeted the revelation of each new gift, many of which were painstakingly home-made. She would rather have these genuine tokens of love than all the sapphires in the world, Lucy concluded as she unwrapped them. If only Tadj could understand that.
* * *
He had never been more certain that something was right, or that it could slip through his fingers so easily. Losing Lucy was unthinkable. It would spell disaster for them and for their child. She had every quality he’d been searching for in a queen. The only surprise was that he, with his reputation for decisive action, had remained blinkered for so long. Lucy’s strength and determination set her apart from the so-called suitable princesses. With her natural flair and warmth, she was everything he could wish for. If this were a straightforward business deal, he would have secured her long before now. But this wasn’t a straightforward business deal.
Inside his suite on board his yacht the Blue Stone, he studied the priceless sapphire in his hand. Everything hinged on his next move. Tucking the precious gemstone into the back pocket of his jeans, he railed at the thought that he must wait. If he attempted to bounce Lucy into a decision, she’d bounce the other way. As a lover his credentials were sound; as a man in love, he had so far proved to be pretty useless. It was time to sort that out.
* * *
So, this was it, Lucy thought. Still glowing from the party her friends had thrown for her the previous night, she’d slept fitfully, waking long before dawn had brightened her bedsit. And then she’d spent ages pacing and fretting, instead of getting ready to meet Tadj. She should have drawn up a list—an agenda—something he would understand. Frowning as she chewed her lip worriedly, she stared out of the window at the distant shape of the Blue Stone, which was floating like a slumbering leviathan at anchor just a few hundred yards away. It was almost eleven o’clock on a cold grey winter’s morning. Even the sky looked like a sheet of ice. Wrapping up warmly would do nothing to protect her heart, she mused wryly as she wound a scarf around her neck. Even her much vaunted common sense couldn’t help when Tadj was in the frame. She loved him unconditionally, which made her more vulnerable than she would like. Grabbing her cross-shoulder bag, she checked the contents before leaving the room.
‘Call me stupid,’ she told her friends and Miss Francine as they gathered around her to wish her well, ‘but I’m really excited at the thought of seeing him again.’
‘Not stupid,’ Miss Francine insisted as she brought Lucy into her arms