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‘It is a shame that you believed Ethan,’ she said quietly, her voice softened by hate. ‘I don’t know why he lied to you, but he did. I’m not what he accused me of. I’m not what you think.’
Impatience sparked in his gaze, but his voice rang with cool control. ‘Why does it matter? That night was a mistake—not the first of my life, but one I have learned from. If I could undo it, I would. As for your request for money, it could have been made from America; there was no need to arrive at my palace gates so dramatically.’
Her jaw dropped at the unfairness of that. ‘I beg your pardon, Khalil, but I tried to speak to you over the phone and you were always “unavailable”. If there had been any other choice, I would have avoided coming here, I promise.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘What a surprise.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘If your goal is to blackmail me, then arriving like this, inspiring gossip and interest from my palace staff, would only serve to provide me with the necessary motivation to silence you.’
‘Then it’s just as well blackmail isn’t the point of my trip.’
‘Then what is?’
She ground her teeth together, sadness washing over her. It had been a single night in a lifetime of nights, and yet, for all their time together was brief, she had felt an undeniable connection to this man. Beyond a connection, she’d felt a sameness, an understanding, as though in some vital way they had been forged from the same elements.
She’d been wrong.
‘Come on, India. Name the amount you want so we can both move on.’
She thrust her hands onto her hips and straightened off the glass, but without its support she was instantly woozy, swooning a little before she caught herself. He moved quickly, instincts no doubt firing to life because if he’d paused to consider his actions, he might have chosen to stay where he was and let her drop to the cold hard floor. But instead, he crossed to her quickly, catching her behind her back, holding her to him. From a distance he’d seemed so cold and in command, but like this, she felt it—his warmth and fire, the harsh ructions within his chest as he controlled his breathing, his anger, and something more, barely contained within him. All she could do was look up into his eyes, desire storming through her, the night they’d shared a memory that was so fresh for India she almost felt as though they were travelling back in time.
Kiss me. The idea flared in her mind and terrified her. India pulled away, still unsteady, but needing space before she did something stupid and actually begged him to kiss her for real.
‘I’m fine,’ she lied as exhaustion and nausea threatened to swallow her. ‘I just want to get this over with.’
‘On this, we are in agreement.’
‘I have a flight booked for tomorrow afternoon, and accommodation arranged at a hotel in the city. As soon as we have had this...conversation... I will leave this palace, and shortly thereafter your country, with no intention of coming back. I am not here to threaten you, nor to blackmail you. I am not here to ask you for money—at least, not directly.’ He lifted a single, mocking brow. ‘I came because I needed to tell you something about that night.’
India was at a crossroads, on the brink of moving in a direction from which she could never return. Once she’d told him about the baby, there was no going back: he would know that he would be a father, regardless of what he chose to do with that information.
‘I’m listening.’
‘I know.’ That was part of the problem. He was staring at her as though he could pull her apart, piece by piece, and examine her until he was satisfied. Anxiety pulsed in her veins.
‘I’m not asking you for anything, nor am I expecting anything of you. I’m telling you this because I—well, for personal reasons—feel it’s very important that you should have all the information.’
‘I have never known anyone to prevaricate to this degree.’
She looked across the room and her gaze inadvertently landed on the thrones. Thrones that belonged to his parents and would soon pass to Khalil and his wife, and then to their children. Biting back a small sob, she pressed her hand over her stomach, sympathy for the little person who would surely grow up being unwanted and unacknowledged by their father landing in her gut like a rock. It was a pain she knew far too well.
‘I’m getting to it.’ Her tongue darted out, licking her dry, lower lip, and while her gaze continued to rest on the thrones, his eyes were squarely on her face, following the movement of her tongue as though he couldn’t look away.
‘The thing is, Khalil, there’s no easy way to tell you this,’ she whispered, her voice almost lost in the cavernous room. ‘I’m pregnant.’
The dropping of a pin would have been easily audible. He said nothing for so long that she wrenched her eyes back to his face, trying to read how he might be feeling. Except it wasn’t possible. There was a look of steel in his eyes, his features set in a mask of cold rejection.
‘And?’
She frowned, her heart plummeting. ‘And, I thought you should know. I—didn’t see a lot of my birth father growing up. I wish... I just thought...’ but this was going to be a case of history repeating itself. He was clearly showing no intention of acknowledging their baby.
‘I just thought you should know,’ she finished weakly, unable to believe he would be so callous in the wake of her news. ‘And now, I’d like to go to my hotel, please.’
He stood more still than the marble columns that ran through the room, his body held tight with a tension radiating from his gut to his brain. Her words were detonating inside him, tiny little bombs, going off again and again. She was watching him, waiting for him to speak, and yet he didn’t trust himself to say anything just yet.
‘Goodbye, Khalil.’ Her features crumpled in her beautiful face—how could he still find her so stunning after what she’d proven herself capable of? What he knew her to be? She was every bit as bad as Fatima, exploiting her power with men for financial gain. That should make him despise her on every level, but when he’d held her a moment ago, he’d been so tempted to kiss her, to claim her just as he had that night. What the hell was wrong with him?
