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‘This baby is a disaster for you.’
She was right. His eyes swept shut once more as he tried to make sense of the political ramifications of having conceived a child with a divorced American—a woman he spent approximately forty-eight hours of his life with, if that.
‘I didn’t come here to tell you, because I understand your position. You have to get married and have children with someone who will strengthen your position, not weaken it. This baby was a mistake.’ Her face paled. ‘No, not a mistake,’ she quickly corrected, her hand curving over her stomach so his eyes dropped to the gesture, something different moving through him now. Was that joy? In the midst of this? Surely not.
‘A surprise,’ he substituted, his voice gravelled by the emotions that were strangling him.
‘You could say that.’ Her short laugh lacked humour.
‘So what was your plan?’
‘Plan?’ She bit down on her lip. ‘I wouldn’t say I have a plan.’
‘You came to take money from me under false pretences? And then what?’ It was unreasonable, and not an accurate representation of how he felt. He wasn’t sure why he had chosen to hone in on that. The money was beside the point, but her duplicity wasn’t.
She flinched but nodded, as though his accusation had some kind of merit. ‘Believe me, I hate that I came here with my hand out. I hate having to ask you for anything. But I can’t afford a child, Sariq. I can’t afford this.’ Tears ran down her cheeks now and his chest compressed almost painfully.
‘The hotel doesn’t pay you well?’
‘My salary’s fine.’ She dashed at her tears, her eyes showing outrage. Outrage that she was crying. Outrage that she had to explain her situation to him. But he needed to understand...
‘I lost a lot of money in my divorce. I have a mountain of debt with interest rates that are truly eye-watering. My salary lets me chip maybe five thousand dollars a year off the total owed. I should be out from under that in about, oh, I don’t know, seventy or eighty years?’ She shook her head. ‘I can’t afford to stop working. The hotel provides my accommodation so once I stop working, I’ll need to find somewhere to live, which I can’t afford. Benefits won’t cut it. I hate that I’m asking you for money,’ she repeated, and he felt it, every single shred of her hate and fury and fear, too. ‘But we’re having a baby and I need to do what I can for her or him.’
‘Yes.’ It was an immediate acquiescence. He turned away from Daisy, stalking towards the door, staring at it for a moment. His mind was spinning at a thousand miles per hour. His marriage was important. Unifying his country further mattered. But so did begetting an heir. His situation as the last in his family’s line had troubled him for a long time, but never more so than since losing his father. He was conscious of how much rested on his survival, how vulnerable that made him. And if there was one thing he hated, it was feeling vulnerable.
This child alleviated that.
He had an heir—or he would, in six months’ time.
‘Look at me, Sariq.’ Her voice cut through him, the grief there, the pain. He turned and his heart jolted inside him, because she was clearly terrified. If he stopped for a moment and saw this from her perspective, he could see how unsettling the discovery of her pregnancy must have been. Neither of them had wanted complications from that weekend. It had been a stolen time of passion, short and brief. And definitely over.
But it wasn’t.
This baby would bind them for ever.
‘I can’t afford to do this on my own, and I hate that, but the alternatives don’t bear considering.’ A shiver moved her slender frame. Her too-slender frame. Had she lost weight since he’d seen her last?
A frown pulled at his mouth. ‘You’re slim.’
She blinked, the statement apparently making no sense.
‘You haven’t gained weight. In fact, the opposite appears to be true.’
‘Oh.’ She nodded jerkily. ‘Yes. I haven’t felt well. The doctor at the free clinic says that will probably pass soon enough.’
His frown deepened. He didn’t feel that was it. Was it possible that she hadn’t been eating? That she hadn’t been eating well enough? Because she was worried about money?
And as for a free clinic? She was carrying the sole heir to the throne of the RKH, one of the most prosperous countries in the Middle East—and the world! She should have top-level medical care. He needed to fix this—he needed to find a way to make this work, for everyone.
‘The baby’s healthy,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m fine, apart from the all-day nausea and complete lack of appetite.’
He nodded slowly, fixing his eyes to her. There was only one solution, and he needed it to happen immediately. ‘I’m glad you came to me today, Daisy. I’m glad you told me.’
She let out a whoosh of breath, her relief apparent. ‘You are?’
A simple nod. ‘But we must move quickly in order to avoid a major diplomatic incident.’
She blinked. ‘Oh, I’m not going to tell anyone about this, Your Highness.’
