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What she wanted was to know his next move.
A stop at a law office or a laboratory, at this hour of the night?
She didn’t think so.
She thought about what she’d heard him say. “Suite.” “Accommodations for an infant.”
He was making hotel arrangements.
A suite for Ethan and her. A gilded cage where he could keep them prisoner while he arranged for that damned DNA test.
Until this minute she hadn’t had time to think about the test. Or tests. What would testing involve?
Some of Rami’s DNA, obviously. Easy enough to come by a strand of hair, she supposed, for a brother.
What if he wanted a DNA sample from her? She couldn’t imagine why he would. He’d never questioned whether or not she was Ethan’s mother, but what if he did? She knew little about DNA tests, only what she’d picked up from television and movies. Was her DNA the same as Suki’s? Was it at least similar enough to establish the baby as hers?
What if it wasn’t?
Bad enough that the test would confirm Rami as his father, but if it didn’t confirm her as his mother—
She couldn’t wait to find out.
She had to run. She’d failed the first time. But she wouldn’t fail again.
She’d be as devious as her enemy.
He was putting her in a hotel. He wouldn’t leave her on her own; he’d leave her with watchers. Flunkies to make sure she stayed put like an obedient dog.
Oh, she could read him like a book. But she had the one thing he didn’t.
Street-smarts.
If he left a guy in her suite, she’d put on an act of desperation.
I need diapers right away, she’d say. The baby’s made an awful mess!
That would get her watcher out the door.
And she’d take Ethan and run. Not to the lobby, because the Sheikh might have somebody there, too.
No problem. She’d worked in enough hotels to know there were other ways out. Fire exits. Delivery entrances. Basements.
When the Sheikh came for Ethan and her in the morning, all he’d find was an empty suite. And a note.
For the first time in hours Rachel almost smiled.
Goodbye notes were a Donnelly family tradition.
