So did Rafiq. It hadn’t helped. He’d been a fool. “But what if you did,” he pressed, pushing his empty plate away. “What would you do?”
Khalid looked disconcerted. “I don’t know. One thing is for sure, an abortion would be out of the question. I suppose it would depend on the situation. The woman in question would have to be suitable for me to consider marrying her.”
Suitable. Just thinking of the night he’d met Tiffany made Rafiq squirm. She couldn’t have been more totally unsuitable if he’d scoured the entire earth. “That is true.”
And there lay his problem.
“Of course,” continued his brother, then pausing as a white-garbed waiter filled their cups with black, fragrant coffee and waiting until he’d left, “there has never been an illegitimate heir in our family. That’s something else to consider. I suppose even an unsuitable marriage would be better than that,” mused Khalid. “Later I could always find a second, more suitable wife who would perform the state duties.”
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