Saved by the Sheikh! / Million-Dollar Marriage Merger: Saved by the Sheikh! / Million-Dollar Marriage Merger

Pushing open a door, he gestured for her to precede him. Tiffany entered a book-lined room that was clearly a man’s domain. His domain. Before her nerve could give out, she drew a deep breath and spun to face him.

“I’m pregnant,” she announced.

Rafiq went very still, and his eyes narrowed to dark cracks that revealed nothing.

All at once the dangerous man she’d seen glimpses of in Hong Kong, the man she’d known lurked under the polite, charming veneer, surfaced.

“We used a condom,” he said, softly.

She spread her hands helplessly. “It must’ve been faulty.”

“Did you know it was faulty?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Did you tamper with it?”

“How?” Outrage filled the question. “It was sealed!”

“Nothing a pinprick couldn’t have taken care of.”

“You’re sick.”

His mouth tightened. “Be careful how you talk to me.”

Tiffany’s front teeth worried at her bottom lip. His gaze flickered to her mouth, before returning to clash with hers. “How much do you want?”

“What?”

She stared at him, not sure she’d heard right. His eyes were fixed on her, his mouth tight. No sign of softness in the features that were so difficult to read. He’d pay money so that he’d never have to see his child again?

What kind of man did that?

Tiffany turned away, defeated. At least she would always carry the knowledge in her heart that she’d tried. And if her daughter one day wanted to know who her father was, she’d tell her. Rafiq might be a sheikh. He might be desert royalty. But he would be the loser … he’d have forfeited the chance to know his child.

But he’d been given the choice.

“I’ve been a fool.”

Tiffany spun back and focused on him. He’d positioned himself behind an antique desk. One hand was raking through his hair. Straight and dark, it shone like silk under the overhead lights.

Unable to bear to look at him, she closed her eyes.

He’d been a fool? What did that make her?

“And I have absolutely no excuse. I even know how the scam works. Start with small amounts, get the idiot hooked and then, when he can’t back out, increase the amount.”

Her mouth fell open as she absorbed what he was saying. “You honestly think I’d travel here to blackmail you?” Her hand closed protectively over her belly. “That I’d blackmail the father of my child?”

From beyond the barrier of the desk, his glance fell to her still-flat stomach, and then lifted to meet her eyes. Black. Implacable. Furious. Tiffany felt the searing heat of his contempt. “Enough. Don’t expect me to believe there is a child.”

Rafiq thought—

She shook her head to clear it. “You really do think I came all this way to blackmail you.”

He arched a brow. “Didn’t you?”

“No!”

“Previous experience makes that impossible for me to believe.”

What was the point of arguing that she hadn’t wanted to blackmail him in the past, either? Tiffany placed her fingertips to her pounding temples. God, why had she allowed her conviction that she was doing the right thing to persuade her to come? He didn’t care about the child. All he cared about was protecting himself.

There was nothing here for her daughter … nothing worth fighting for.

She started to back away.

“Where are you going?”

“To my hotel. I’m pregnant. It was a long flight. I’m tired. My feet ache. I need a shower and a sleep.” She listed the reasons in a flat, dead tone.

He was around the desk before she could move and caught up to her with two long strides. Planting himself in front of her, he folded his arms across his chest. “You will stay here.”

Tiffany shook her head. “I can’t stay here.” He was a man—an unmarried man. It would not be sanctioned. “Besides, my luggage is already at the hotel.”

His jaw had set. “I am not letting you stay in the city alone. I want you where I can watch you. Give me the name of the hotel and I will have your luggage sent here.”

“I’d be your prisoner.”

“Not a prisoner,” he corrected, “my guest.”

“It’s hardly appropriate for me to stay here, even I know—”

Holding up a hand, he stopped her mid-sentence. “My aunt Lily will come stay. The widow of my father’s brother, and the perfect chaperone. Zara, her daughter, is away studying at present, and Aunt Lily is missing her. She’s Australian, so you should get along well. But don’t think you can wind her around your little finger. I will be there all the time you are together. Rest tonight, and I will escort you back to the airport myself tomorrow.”

Taking in his hard face, Tiffany made herself straighten. She’d come all this way, and he didn’t even believe she was pregnant. Right now she was too weary to argue further but she’d be damned if she’d let him see that. He’d only interpret it as weakness. Tomorrow she’d be ready to fight again.

At least she’d have a chance to meet a part of his family, his aunt. For her daughter’s future relationship with her father, Tiffany knew she would do her best to get along with the woman.

Before he took her by the scruff of her neck and threw her out of his country.

Five

Tiffany hadn’t been lying about being weary, Rafiq saw that evening. Seated across from him at the dinner table, alongside his aunt Lily, who was clearly bursting with curiosity about her presence in his home, Tiffany barely picked at her food.

There were shadows beneath her eyes. Pale purple hollows that gave her a heart-wrenching fragility that tugged at him—even though he refused to put a name to the emotion.

The array of dishes at her elbow remained untouched. The succulent pieces of skewered lamb. The breads baked with great care in his kitchens. The char-roasted vegetables on earthenware platters. Even her wineglass remained full. Something of the fine spread should have tempted her. But nothing had.