Midnight in the Harem: For Duty's Sake / Banished to the Harem / The Tarnished Jewel of Jazaar

“Of course, I want this child. How could you ask such a thing?”

“Well, you’re acting like it’s the end of the world, or something.”

“Are you that naive?”

“I am not naive. Not anymore.”

“I disagree. You have not considered the complications this pregnancy will cause. It will be all over the press. After a lifetime of protecting my privacy and behaving with circumspection, I will make a bigger tabloid splash than your father and my brother combined.”

“You don’t want me to have this child? You think I should terminate my pregnancy?”

“Have you lost your mind?” How had she gone from what he had said to something so reprehensible? “Do not ever suggest such a thing to me again.”

“I wasn’t suggesting it. I’m not the one having a temperamental fit.”

The accusation snapped the last thread of his control.

“Did you do this on purpose?” he leaned forward and asked, memories of Elsa’s betrayals freshly branded in his brain. “Was this your way of getting back at me for my relationship with Elsa?”

“Now, who’s making insane accusations?”

“Women scorned have been known to do worse.”

“You never scorned me, you arrogant ass!” Then she swallowed convulsively and scrabbled for the button that would open the sunroof.

He reached up and pressed it when she seemed unable to make the stretch. “When you were eighteen, and I refused your kiss.”

“That was five years ago.”

“Revenge is a dish best served cold.”

She took several deep breaths before saying, “I can’t believe this.”

“Join my world.”

“Oh, get over yourself.”

Fresh air came in through the opening in the roof and Angele leaned back in her seat, seemingly breathing easier. Good.

He mentally ran through a list of things needed doing. Consulting an eminent obstetrician was top of the list. “You are not taking this seriously, what this pregnancy means.”

“Oh, I’m taking it seriously all right. I know exactly what it means.”

“Oh?” She certainly had not shown proper understanding so far.

“Yes.” She shot daggers with her usually doe-soft eyes. “It means I’m agreeing to a marriage I don’t want.”

“Why?”

“Why what?” she asked, sounding genuinely confused.

“Why agree to the marriage?” “Because I’m not a stone-cold bitch.” “I never said you were.”

“My mother told me something a few years ago. It was after I found out about my father’s infidelities. I apologized to her for having to live in the States where I could know relative anonymity, instead of her home country of Brazil where she was better known. She’d done it to protect me.”

“I am aware.”

“Well, she told me I had nothing to apologize for, that from the moment a baby is conceived, his or her needs must come first.”

“You are willing to marry me for the sake of our child.”

“Under certain conditions, yes.” The limo pulled to a stop.

She looked at him with that same sick expression she’d had before opening the sunroof. “We’re not at the restaurant. We’re hours too early for dinner.”

She swallowed convulsively on the word dinner.

“No, we are at your apartment building. I originally had planned to give you time to get ready for our date.”

“More like, you intended to seduce me before dinner and hoped to cement the romantic proposal over dessert.” The words should have been mocking, but she merely sounded resigned.

“You think you know me.” She was wrong. On the proposal over dessert part.

He’d planned to woo her in person for two weeks before popping the question, so to speak.

“What?” she asked. “It would have been a good plan, if unsuccessful.”

“You do not think I could seduce you?”

“I’m positive you could. Even feeling like my stomach is a jumping board for little green men right now, but I still wouldn’t have said yes to your proposal.”

“But you will now, because of the pregnancy.”

“Neither of us has a choice. This baby deserves better than to be shunted to the side as the unacknowledged offspring to a future king.”

“I would never refuse to acknowledge my child.”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, in fact, I do not.”

“Never mind. This arguing is making me even more nauseated than usual.”

The sickly pallor to her skin lent truth to her claim. He mentally shook himself. Now was not the time for recriminations. What was done, was done.

He had been right earlier; she clearly needed taking care of.

“Then we will not argue.”