‘It must be one or the other,’ Razi insisted coldly. ‘Which is it, Lucy? Blackmail? Or sob story?’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LUCY drew on her inner strength. ‘The man I knew in Val d’Isere would never have said that. And let me tell you something else,’ she added without giving Razi chance to speak. ‘You say you care about a country. I don’t believe you. How can you care about anything if you’re incapable of love? And if you’re incapable of love, I don’t want you to have anything to do with my child—’
‘Our child,’ he reminded her fiercely. ‘Or so you say—’
‘Yes, I do say,’ Lucy insisted, bracing for battle. Where her child was concerned she was fearless.
He had never felt such wild emotions. He wanted to hug Lucy and rejoice—yet also turn his back on her and never see her again. He rued the day he’d met her and yet longed for her to stay. She had to stay if she was having his child. The realisation that he was about to become a father had left him drowning in happiness, while the thought that anyone, even Lucy, might imagine she could keep him from that child was an abomination he refused to consider. The memory of a child living in lonely isolation, waiting for his brother’s visits to break the monotony of being cared for by strangers, was still too raw for that. If she was having his child he would not be denied the joy of seeing that child grow up. The thought of anyone but him protecting the baby, loving it as he would, was unthinkable. He wouldn’t stand on the sidelines for Lucy—for anyone.
‘Will I embarrass your wife?’
‘My wife?’ The red mist of anger was still on him as he refocused dazedly.
‘I presume there’s got to be a wife soon,’ she said, turning from shy supplicant to virago in a moment. ‘Tell me,’ she insisted. ‘I have to know. I have to protect my child. I don’t imagine you’d want me here in Isla de Sinnebar muddying the water when the time comes for you to choose a wife—’
‘There is no wife,’ he roared, stopping her, ‘or ever likely to be a wife.’ The face of his cousin Leila flashed into his mind. He had sent her back to university where she so dearly wanted to be and then had dispatched her greedy father with a flea in his ear and a cheque large enough to keep him off Leila’s back.
‘So, you’re married to duty?’ Lucy suggested, taking another tack.
‘And what if I am?’
‘That isn’t what I want for my baby, Razi. And if you’re closed off from love what good are you to a country?’
‘Let me be the judge of that,’ he snapped. ‘I’m interested in cold, hard fact—like what do you want for your child, Lucy?’ He was already calculating the amount.
Her wounded gaze said no child of hers could ever be bought. ‘I want my baby to be loved,’ she said quietly.
‘Yet you think me incapable of love?’
She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to and as his own doubts kicked in he turned on the person least deserving of his anger. ‘You should have told me the moment you knew you were pregnant. We could have arranged something.’
‘Like what?’ she exclaimed fearfully, lifting her arm almost as if she was shielding her face from so much pain. ‘Don’t say any more, Razi,’ she begged him. ‘Don’t say things I know you don’t mean.’
He took himself aside until he was calmer. ‘I mean I would have supported you and the baby,’ he said then.
‘If I were discreet? If I bowed my head—hid my child?’
‘Did you really think this was something you could keep from me?’
‘It’s why I’m here.’
‘And you think I’d be happy to have no say in my child’s life? How little you know me.’
How true, Lucy thought. They had shared the ultimate intimacy, but they were still two strangers facing up to one of life’s major turning points together. They had everything to learn about each other—everything to learn about how they would go on from here. But they had to go on from here and she had to make Razi listen. ‘I wasn’t keeping anything from you. I waited for three months to be as sure as I could be that the pregnancy was safe.’
His reaction shocked her. Wheeling away, Razi put his head in his hands as if for once there was a problem he couldn’t solve. She gave him space, sensing the renewed onslaught of his pain, though in some ways it was a relief to see such a passionate response from a man who had grown so cold.
Razi was a warrior, exotic, fierce and passionate—while she was a chef, neat and tidy—cautious, some might say; at least, she had been cautious up to meeting Razi. They both had so much to offer their child if only they could put their differences behind them. They must do that because only then could they start to build a future for their baby. But right now Razi was at his most untouchable, his most remote, with every sinew and muscle in his body stretched tight.
There had never been a moment when she had been frightened of Razi, but she was frightened now, yet this was the very moment when she must reach out to him, while the pull of duty was warring with his warmer, human side. For all her ignorance of such weighty problems, one thing she did know—a country run for the sake of duty would be a cold and barren place. She touched his arm, expecting him to send her away—or, worse, ignore her. She was used to being invisible, but that didn’t mean she liked it. You never got used to that sort of thing. It always hurt. She stood quietly, feeling foolish as the silence dragged on, but then the miracle she’d hoped for happened. Razi turned to stare at her. He didn’t speak, but the fact that he had responded at all was enough for now.
There was a world of questions in Lucy’s eyes, any one of which he could pick and break her heart. ‘I have decided that this is the way forward,’ he said instead, planning his words carefully.
He had no reason to mistrust Lucy, not if he made himself remember her innocence at the chalet. So he was already considering the timing for acknowledging Lucy’s baby in public. He would sell the concept of an unmarried ruling Sheikh who already had a child to the older tribesman as proof of his fertility, turning disapproval into approval at a stroke. Yes, he was a cynic; business had made him that way. Before accepting the Phoenix throne he had founded an empire largely on his wits. For sure there had been no help from his father, the ruling Sheikh. Plus, he had vowed to revise the antiquated laws of Isla de Sinnebar, bringing them into line with the modern world—so this would be his first act and he would turn it into a positive act.
He would stop at nothing to make a better job of parenting than his own absentee parents, but he wanted the throne too—and not for selfish reasons, but because he knew he could bring progress and benefits to his people. With good management and careful husbandry of the land and indigenous species, Isla de Sinnebar would thrive. There would be justice for all, a first-class healthcare system and the best education his money could buy. This was both his goal and his passion. He existed for no other purpose than to serve Isla de Sinnebar. He had not bargained for the additional blessing of a child, but as he outlined his plans for Lucy he realised it wasn’t a question of wanting to take the child from her, but more a matter of security for both Lucy and their baby. He expected her to fight him when she heard his proposals. He expected her to feel disappointed that she couldn’t be anything more to him than the mother of his child, but he was confident she could only be reassured when he told her what he meant to do to secure her future.
Lucy listened as Razi spelled out her glittering new life. The biggest surprise of all was his intention to acknowledge their child. She was so stunned she didn’t hear everything he was saying and had to ask him to repeat things.
Her eyes widened with disbelief. She hadn’t come to Isla de Sinnebar for this. She was to have a wonderful home of her own choosing in England—a country estate with stables, if she liked. She would have an income appropriate for the mother of a royal child,