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“You won’t find anyone here who would agree with that, ma’am,” she said stiffly.
Fortunately for both Rachel and the cook, the others had chosen that moment to enter the kitchen.
Rachel had been prepared to dislike the entire staff.
She couldn’t. How could she dislike people who adored Ethan?
After a couple of days Ethan, the sweet little traitor, adored them right back.
Roberta, in particular.
It was hard to resent her. She didn’t interfere at all, and simply gave Rachel a hand when permitted. Finally, Rachel decided it was foolish to take her anger out on a girl only a few years her junior who was a wonder with babies.
Her relationship with the others remained cool.
Surely it was because of whatever Karim had told them about her …
But it wasn’t.
One morning, coming down the stairs, she heard Mrs. Lopez and Mrs. Jensen talking in low voices.
“The Prince said she was a nice young woman,” Mrs. Jensen was saying, “and that she’s had some difficulty lately, but honestly, Miriam, I hate to say it, but I don’t think she’s nice at all.”
“Well,” Mrs. Lopez said, “she’s wonderful with her baby—anyone can see that. But it’s impossible to get a smile from her, isn’t it? If I didn’t know better, Amelia, I’d think she dislikes us—but why would she, when she hardly know us?”
Damn! Damn! Double damn!
Rachel eased back up the stairs.
Was it possible she’d been wrong about Karim’s staff?
Little by little, her dealings with them changed. She smiled; so did they. She said nice things; so did they. She had to admit it made life more pleasant.
As for Karim … She never saw him. What had happened to the meetings with his lawyers? Lab tests?
Rachel didn’t ask. Why rush the things she dreaded? Apparently His Sheikhiness was too busy with work to deal with anything else.
She wasn’t really surprised. Ethan’s welfare would always take second place.
Karim left for his office early in the morning. Not by car. When she asked the reason, strictly as a matter of curiosity—because why would a prince with a Mercedes and a man to drive it leave both behind—John, his driver, said that His Highness generally took the subway.
“Or he walks,” he added, and Rachel could almost hear the tsk-tsk in the words. “His Highness says it’s the best way to beat the traffic.”
Big deal, she thought. The mighty Sheikh joins the commoners.
He could travel by broomstick, for all she cared.
And he didn’t return until late at night. Very late, never in time for dinner. Their paths never crossed. Fine with her. Excellent, in fact …
