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“Remember her?” Emma asked with saccharine sweetness. “That’s the girl who’s been crying her hormonal eyes out for weeks, all because you ran out on her! I’m not surprised that you’re a philandering cheat, I’m really not. But to carry on like this when you’ve left a girl pregnant, with no way to contact you… That’s despicable.”
He looked down the length of his aquiline nose at the woman who had unapologetically turned his life on its head in a matter of minutes. He ignored her insults. His brain was switched on to fact finding. “One moment.”
Emma watched, heart in her mouth, as he yanked open the door and began speaking in rapid fire Arabic to a security guard beyond. She tried not to seem weak, but what she desperately wanted was to sink down on to the bed, head in her hands. The pent up emotion of the last two months had taken its toll, in the moment she’d finally confronted him with the awful truth.
But she would not let this man, this man she hated, see her sudden fatigue.
“Your sister is in America now?”
Emma sniffed. “You don’t even know where she’s from?”
“She’s in LA, Emma.” He was grateful then for the security guard having a memory for detail. Any woman who was dating Amar’an royalty was subject to rigorous background checks. Fatush had been able to list several salient details about her background when requested.
A bitter wave of disappointment fell down on Emma, and she realized she’d been hoping there’d been a mistake. A mix up. But there was none. She’d seen the recognition in his face. And he obviously knew where Cass based herself.
Emma’s eyes were dull when she looked at him, her nod small.
“Fine. We will go to Cassandra together.”
“Huh?” She stared across at him, confused.
“I presume you only took this job to confront me with this… news?”
She swallowed. “Yes.”
“Well, you’ve done it. Cassandra is fortunate to have such a loyal sister. And now, I am anxious to confirm this pregnancy for myself.”
“Wait just a minute, your highness,” she infused the title with as much disdain as she could.
A crease formed between his brows. “Yes?”
“Are you suggesting you don’t believe me? Do you really think I’d go through all this if there was any doubt that you’re the father?”
The boat engines purred to life and, as it accelerated at its top speed towards the coastline, Emma lost her footing. She lurched forward. Rafiq reacted fast, snaking his hands out and catching her around the waist. In the circumstances, his reaction was highly inappropriate, but the more spectacularly rude Emma was to him, the more he felt his need for her increase.
He held her against him, staring down at her, watching as awareness flashed through her like a visible wave. Her face flushed, her pupils dilated, her breath started to come in shallow rasps… it was obvious that she hated herself for wanting him; it was an unforgivable betrayal to the sister she clearly adored, but want him she still did. And yet, he’d be a fool to push it. No matter how much he felt the same desire scorching his body, he had to control it. For both of them.
It was now blindingly imperative to get airborne. “Go and pack, Emma. The jet’s been put on alert. We will depart as soon as we can.”
He obviously couldn’t wait to get back to Cass. He might have said it was to confirm the pregnancy, but surely no man could really resist Cassandra’s charms for long. As Emma emptied the contents of her drawer back into her bag, she told herself that she was just emotional. It had been a huge worry, tracking down her sister’s wayward lover, and now she’d done her duty, she could almost wash her hands of the whole thing.
Only, she didn’t know she’d ever be able to forget her body’s treacherous reaction to the despicable Sheikh Rafiq Al Sadini. All she could hope was that she’d mistaken her feelings. Yes! A triumphant smile lit up her face. Of course that was it. She was just overflowing with emotional energy; had been since Cass had confided in her. So some of that energy had just mistaken itself for attraction.
The theory held for all of thirty minutes. Once the boat had docked and she’d made a hasty and patchy explanation to Becky, and gone ashore, she’d seen Rafiq again. And her body did crazy things. With one of the melodramatic sighs she generally reserved for her heroines, she followed in the wake of the eminent prince. Even his walk was sexy, she thought glumly, as he led them away from the boat.
Two limousines were waiting in the car park, and she was relieved to see that he sat in a separate vehicle to hers. Or, at least, she told herself she was relieved. It gave her time to pull her thoughts together as they made the trip through Athens, to the airport.
The convoy bypassed the airport car park and, pausing for the briefest of moments to show credentials at a boom gate, was shepherded down a side street and onto the tarmac. Emma gripped the handle of the car door as a huge airplane accelerated into the air, just above their cars. She looked across at the man sitting opposite for reassurance, but he had obviously been trained not to interact with the Sheikh’s guests.
It was bracingly hot in Athens, with none of the pleasant sea breeze to take the edge off the sun’s intensity. As she stepped out of the limousine straight onto the tarmac, she wish
ed she’d thought to change out of her suit. Instead, she settled for removing the jacket, aware that the white blouse strained a little at her breasts. It would have to do until they were on board and she could find something else to wear.
“Passport?” An official approached her, his hand extended.
“Oh, right, passport,” she exclaimed, furrowing her brow, trying to remember where she’d stashed it. “Just a second.” Face glowing, she crouched down and checked the side pockets of her luggage, her frown deepening when she didn’t feel its familiar binding.
“Is this your first international trip?” Rafiq’s voice was laced with sarcasm and she glared at him.
