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Several rows back, Karim watched Rachel through narrowed eyes.
He was good at reading body language. Years in the stuffy formality of the palace, followed by years of negotiating multi-million-dollar deals with some of the world’s toughest opponents, had given him that ability.
For the past hour he’d been reading hers.
For a long time she’d sat stiffly in her seat, her body almost quivering with anger.
She hated him for that kiss.
At first he’d been a heartbeat away from marching up the aisle, hauling her into his arms and carrying her to the small private bedroom in the rear of the cabin.
Two minutes alone and he’d damned well show her that he had not forced that kiss on her, that whatever dark and dangerous thing was happening between them involved her as much as him.
Thank God, sanity had prevailed.
He’d calmed down. So had she. Her shoulders had relaxed, if only a little, and then she’d gone to collect the child.
He’d watched her come down the aisle again, head up, eyes cold as they raked over his face.
Do not even think of touching me, that look had said, but he wouldn’t have anyway.
The sight of the baby had reminded him of what this was about—that taking her to New York had nothing to do with her or him; it had to do with Rami.
If the child was his brother’s, then it was also his.
He owed it to the boy.
Maybe he owed it to Rami, too.
What he’d thought about earlier, that maybe, just maybe, he’d missed the opportunity to help his brother turn his life around, had set him thinking.
Doing right by Rami’s son would go a long way toward doing right by Rami. It would leave a far better legacy than all those bills and chits.
That it would also strip the Donnelly woman of her son was secondary. The boy would obviously be better off in a new life. He could explain that to her.
If she truly loved the child …
He was a second away from heading up the aisle to try and explain that to her when he noticed that she no longer looked tense.
That was when he knew she was planning something.
So much for explaining anything.
He’d kept her from making a break for freedom. And she was going to try again. Not that her trying to get away made any more sense now than before.
What did she have to gain by running?
And yet, had he not been waiting outside that miserable building in which she lived, she’d have disappeared by now.
