The Sheikh's Secret Baby

‘Why not?’ he demanded. ‘Do you think I’m going to have him spirited away while you’re out?’

She met his gaze with a fierce challenge on her face—a look he had never seen her use before. ‘I wouldn’t put it past you.’

He inclined his head in unwilling admiration. ‘You are wise indeed not to underestimate my determination,’ he conceded. ‘But you still haven’t explained your refusal to dine with me.’

‘Because I don’t have a local babysitter, not yet,’ she babbled. ‘And I’m not leaving Darius with a stranger!’

His lips twisted. ‘You think I would compromise childcare, Jazz? He is a royal Prince of Razrastan—and he will be cared for by the finest professional money can buy.’

‘No.’

‘No?’ he verified incredulously.

‘I’m not leaving him with a stranger,’ she repeated stubbornly.

A pulse flickered at his temple as he trained his gaze on the minuscule kitchen which could just be glimpsed over her shoulder. ‘You expect me to eat dinner here?’

‘I don’t particularly care whether you eat or not, since food is the last thing on my mind,’ she returned. ‘But since you are determined to have this meeting, I dare say I can rustle up something for supper.’

There was a moment of tense silence before, slowly, he nodded his head. ‘Very well. I will return at eight.’ He paused. ‘In the meantime, my bodyguards will be stationed around the property, so if you’re contemplating making some dramatic break for freedom, I urge you think again.’

Jasmine stared at him, feeling as if she was being backed into a corner. Was that how he intended her to feel? As if he had all the power and she had none? Because that was true, wasn’t it? She looked at him. ‘Bodyguards?’ she echoed. ‘Are you out of your mind? We’ve been living here perfectly safely for the last six months. This is rural Oxfordshire. We don’t need bodyguards.’

‘On the contrary, you most certainly do. You may have lived that way in the past, Jazz, but those days are over. This child has pure Al Haidar blood pulsing through his veins and will be treated accordingly.’ He slanted her a warning look. ‘I will see you later. Just make sure you are ready to receive me.’

His final request was like a throwback to the past and she wondered how she was supposed to do that. Was he hinting that he’d like her to be waiting for him wearing some tiny scrap of silk-satin lingerie the way she’d done in the past—showing as much flesh as possible without actually being naked? She studied his hard face. Unlikely. At this precise moment, his expression betrayed nothing but contempt. His bearing was both regal and imperious as he turned and walked out of the front door, closing it softly behind him. Jasmine could hear the purr of a powerful car engine as it started to move and now that the shock of seeing him again had begun to wear off, she began to tremble.

Unwanted tears stung her eyes, but she brushed them away as she tried to centre herself and make sense of what had just happened and to wonder how it had all come to this.

She heard Darius beginning to wake again and determination flooded through her in a hot rush as she recognised that she needed to have her wits about her when dealing with a man as powerful as Zuhal.

But most of all she needed to be strong.

CHAPTER THREE (#uf872adb6-26a0-5ecf-8be2-cd04b463155a)

SHE SHOULD NEVER have fallen for the royal Sheikh—that was the thought which plagued Jasmine for the rest of the afternoon, even while she was playing peep-oh with Darius then splashing him in the bath and making him giggle in that heartbreakingly innocent way of his.

But Zuhal had been determined to seduce her, despite the fact that she had been a shop girl and he a royal prince of noble descent. Her marriage had ended and she’d been feeling a failure when the Sheikh had waltzed into the Granchester boutique and subjected her to a highly effective charm offensive. She remembered his dark gaze licking over her skin and it had felt like being bathed in sweet black molasses. Sensing an unknown danger, she had let the other, rather pushy assistant deal with him, but her reluctance to engage had only seemed to increase his desire. Had she been surprised when he had turned up the following day to subject her to some more of that lazy charm? Not really. And she would have challenged any woman with a pulse to have resisted him for long. The strict rules of the hotel concerning relationships between guests and staff meant their resulting flirtation had been conducted amid great secrecy, and afterwards she’d realised that had probably added an extra layer of piquancy.

But the tumultuous ending of her marriage had left her feeling undesirable and Zuhal had changed all that so, of course, she’d agreed to have dinner with him. The restaurant had been small and badly lit—chosen mainly for discretion, she’d suspected—and even though the implied secrecy of that had been a little disappointing, already she’d been in too deep to care. To her astonishment—but not his—she had ended up in bed with him.

It had been…bliss. No other word for it. The soft plunder of his lips. His slow undressing as he had peeled off her cheap clothes. Her first sight of him naked—all that honed and burnished flesh and the unmistakable evidence of just how much he’d wanted her. She should have been shy, or even daunted—but she had been neither. In fact, she had been wet and ready, uttering nameless pleas as he’d stroked erotic pathways over her heated skin. Even the brief pain of losing her virginity hadn’t marred her mounting enjoyment and Zuhal had confessed afterwards that it had added an extra layer of excitement to his. Orgasm had followed orgasm and he hadn’t said anything until afterwards, when she’d been lying gazing up at the ceiling in dazed disbelief as he’d circled a puckered nipple with one careless finger. Turning her flushed face towards his, he had drawled out a single word.