The Sheikh's Hidden Heir: Secret Sheikh, Secret Baby / The Sheikh's Claim / The Return of the Sheikh

‘There is no divorce in Zaraq. My mother, even though she lives in England, gave my father four sons. She deserves his support and respect.’

This was a rather different way of looking at things than Felicity was used to hearing in the maternity wards! But he’d confused her now.

‘Four?’ She crinkled her nose. ‘I thought you said that you had two brothers?’

‘I do.’

She knew then she had definitely said the wrong thing, and immediately apologised. ‘I’m sorry…’

‘You weren’t to know.’ He didn’t elaborate straight away, and neither did Felicity push, but after the longest pause it was Karim who broke the silence. ‘I am the third son. Ahmed was the second. Zaraq is seventy percent desert. Ahmed was into desert racing. He was practising. His vehicle broke down and help did not get there in time.’

‘I’m sorry.’ She said it again and he held her gaze, even opened his mouth for a second to speak, then changed his mind.

Don’t be. He’d been about to repeat her very words. He caused this mess.

There was no bill to summon—just separate rooms to go to.

It was the part of the night she always dreaded.

They walked slowly to the lifts, where a few people were waiting, and Felicity’s heart was hammering in her chest as he stood and faced her.

‘Thank you,’ she attempted, ‘for a wonderful night.’

Karim was about to say that it didn’t have to end there, but he hesitated. She was jangling with nerves, so he decided to soothe her with his mouth; he would play with her hair, his skilled lips moving in…He would let this lift go, Karim decided as the doors pinged open. His lips would meet hers and then he’d take her to his room in the next one!

His mouth was moving in. She was his sweet dessert to linger over—he had waited twelve hours, and he was more than ready to be rewarded for his good behaviour now.

For Felicity, there was just a sliver of indecision. She felt the weight of his lips, the bliss of his mouth on hers, then relaxed and gave in. They were alone at the lifts now, his hands loosely on her hips as his mouth worked on. Fear was replaced by pleasure, and a tiny curl was unfurling in her stomach. An empty lift opened, and she pulled back her head and stared into his eyes—because if he asked to see her again, even though she lived miles from London, even though it would be difficult, maybe she would say yes…

His mouth was on hers again, pulling her closer in, and it felt sublime to kiss him back without thinking. It was tender, but with intent, his tongue sliding between her lips, the thick scent of arousal suddenly closing in as if suffocating her. She jerked away again, because even if it wasn’t tonight with Karim it would be soon. The inevitable day would come where she’d have to tell him she was frigid. She simply couldn’t face it.

She saw the whip of confusion in his eyes as she fled to the lift and he called her name.

‘Just leave me,’ she sobbed, tears blurring her vision as she tried to make out the floor numbers. She ended up pressing more than half the buttons, so that the lift stopped and started almost at every floor. She wasn’t scared that he’d chase her, just mortified by her own fear, choking down sobs as she swiped her card and stumbled into her room.

It was hopeless!

Soon her stunning grey dress lay in a puddle on the floor. Sheathed in lacy underwear, she lay under the sheets, curled into a shameful ball. She was ashamed of her own behaviour, knew she’d made a fool of herself and embarrassed him—he’d been kissing her goodnight, that was all.

It scared her how much she’d enjoyed it.

But she’d been stupid to try, Felicity was fast realising. Stupid to try and pretend that she was normal.

And very foolish to pretend with a man like Karim.

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_a3310d0e-389b-55bf-80dd-57ed8352a8f4)

STEPPING out onto the freezing grey street and heading for the underground, Felicity just wanted to get home.

Her clothes, as promised, had been laundered and delivered, and looked better than when she had put them on this time yesterday morning. She had set her alarm for six, determined to get out early and not to have to suffer the embarrassment of seeing him at breakfast.

She’d overreacted appallingly—she knew that.

A simple goodnight would have sufficed.

But it wasn’t his kiss that had terrified her, it was the thought of where it might lead—where, with a man like Karim, it would lead. She couldn’t stand the shame of a disappointing end. Better to just walk away now. Karim oozed sexuality—and she could hardly beat him down with a stick, hardly keep chatting her way through dinner only to dodge his caress at the end of the night.

‘Morning!’ She hadn’t noticed him jogging towards her, and she jumped when she did. He was dressed in grey sweats—a world away from the suited man she had dined with last night, but still impossibly gorgeous. Slightly breathless, he gave her a guarded smile. ‘Off to get your train?’

‘The line’s running, apparently—I just rang and checked.’

Karim couldn’t be bothered with small talk. He was annoyed, and glad that he’d caught her so that he could tell her so.

‘You really didn’t have to run off crying last night—saying no works very well for me.’

‘I just…’ She screwed her eyes closed in confusion and embarrassment—because she had kissed him back, for a moment had actually forgotten. He deserved some sort of an explanation—except it was impossible to come up with one. ‘I just felt things were moving along too fast.’

‘It was a kiss,’ Karim said. ‘And good kisses tend to move things along.’

He was still annoyed—but not just with her.

She was a nice girl. And nice girls wanted romance, kisses, flowers, phone calls—none of which Karim minded. But he wanted sex too. He stared down at her miserable face and it moved him—because if he’d had time on his side she might very well have been worth the effort.

Only he didn’t have time.

‘I’ve got to get going,’ Felicity said, and he had to get going as well—back to his last taste of freedom before he took on the full weight of the crown.

So why was he calling her back? ‘What if I want to take you for dinner tonight?’

‘You’d have an extremely long drive!’ Felicity attempted a smile, but it wavered when he shrugged.

‘I don’t mind travelling,’ Karim said.

‘Let’s just leave it.’ Tears stung her eyes as she stared at this beautiful man, who deserved so much better than her truckload of issues. ‘Look, it isn’t you, it’s me!’

The pedestrian crossing was bleeping, the little green man waving her over—she could see the underground and just wanted to dive into it, wanted to fade into oblivion in the crowd. She shook him off and ran—but she was wearing heels and he was wearing running shoes. The crowd swallowed her, and she hoped she had disappeared into a mass of dark suits as she took the escalator.

Karim was enraged—confused and enraged! Who was this woman who used his lines? Who was this woman who denied his kisses, his invitations? Did she know who he was? He plunged into the underground. Okay, she didn’t know just who he was, but that was part of the game—he won on charm alone.

Except with Felicity he wasn’t winning.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ He was beside her, with people tutting as he stood where they wanted to walk. He pressed in beside her, taking the escalator with her.

‘Just leave it!’ Felicity hissed.

‘I don’t want to.’

‘And you always get what you want, do you?’ Felicity’s voice was curt—derisive, even—as she looked at him and saw him for the rich, spoilt playboy that he was. ‘Well, not this time.’