The difference between a formal state dinner and an informal state dinner was usually found in the size and the details.
Cleo paused at the entrance to the cocktail party and studied the room. Flowers bloomed everywhere—providing a sweet scent and creating the sense of being in a garden. Small white lights twinkled, candles flickered and an immense crowd of people circulated and talked. The informal dinner had been for about two hundred people. There had to be at least five times that number in attendance to honor the bride and groom. Everyone glittered and sparkled, leaving her feeling like a very out-of-place, country cousin. A very tired country cousin.
She hadn’t slept in two days. Not since she’d found out that the king had told Zara about her pregnancy. So far no one else seemed to know, so she was keeping her fingers crossed that she could escape the situation without too much trouble.
A waiter paused and offered her a glass of champagne. Cleo declined, then decided to head to the bar where she could get her club soda with lime and pass it off as a cocktail. At least she felt reasonably attractive. Her red, beaded gown skimmed over her curves in such a way as to make her feel like a pinup girl from the 1940s. A twist of fabric in the midsection hid her tummy, which was good because it had really started sticking out. She was approaching her fifth month and none of her regular pants would fit. She was going to have to hit the maternity stores before long. But that trip would have to wait until she headed home.
The good news was she hadn’t thrown up in the past couple of days. Maybe that cookie toss into the royal garden had been her last.
Less than ten feet from the bar, she came to a dead stop. Sadik stood across the room, and the second she saw him, she knew that he’d been told about the baby. His dark gaze fell immediately to her midsection and the look of accusation on his face rooted her to the floor. Even when he headed toward her, tall, angry and determined, she couldn’t seem to make herself run.
He grabbed her arm and herded her toward the far end of the room where there weren’t so many people. She glanced around to see if she could find someone to rescue her, then figured there was no point in putting off the inevitable.
Think fast, she told herself. She had to come up with a plausible story. She’d tell him what she told Zara—that she’d met someone. After all, she’d already hinted there was another man in her past. She needed to buy herself time. If she told him it was his baby, he would take over her life and she would lose the ability to make decisions. It’s not that she wanted to keep Sadik from his child; she wanted to make sure he didn’t ace her out of the picture.
He led her into a small alcove, then positioned her so her back was to the main room, but he faced that direction. Probably so he could make sure they weren’t interrupted or overheard.
“Is it true?” he asked by way of a greeting. “Are you pregnant?”
She reminded herself that the king had not only called the father of her child a jackal of the desert but had offered to have him flogged. She wondered if Hassan would be willing to go through with the latter if he found out the father in question was his own son.
Once again the idea of Sadik in chains gave her comfort, however small. She laced her fingers together in front of her waist and squeezed her palms together.
“I am pregnant,” she said slowly, “but before you get all hot and possessive, I want to make it clear that it’s not your baby. I’ve already told you, there’s someone else in my life now. The child is his.”
Dark eyes narrowed slightly. Sadik seemed to see into her soul. Then he shook his head in a dismissal that made her heart sink.
“The child is mine. You could not be with another man after being with me.”
His flat statement made her want to scream. Worse, it was true, and if she tried to deny it too hard, he was going to see right through her. Panic threatened.
Sadik took hold of her upper arms and pulled her close. As much as she wanted to look away, he compelled her to meet his gaze. His expression turned cold and more than a little scary.
“Make no mistake,” he said softly, menace in every syllable. “Bahanian law will not allow a royal child to be taken out of the country without the king’s permission. However much my father might claim you as his daughter, he will not turn his back on his first grandson. If you do not admit the truth to me now, I will go to my father and tell him of our relationship. I will explain that I believe the child to be mine and insist you be examined by a doctor. If you are more than four months along…”
He stopped talking, but there was no point in finishing the threat. Cleo wasn’t an idiot. She knew that the king’s favor couldn’t be stretched very far. Hassan wouldn’t let her take away his grandchild, and Sadik would do everything he promised.
He continued to stare at her face. “Tell me again, Cleo. Tell me the child is not mine.”
She waited as long as she could, then exhaled the truth. “I can’t.”
His self-satisfied smile tore at her heart. Her first thought was to run. If she went fast enough and far enough they could never find her. But before she could even take a step, Sadik was shaking his head. His smile faded.
“Do not think you can escape me. We are talking about my son. My heir.”
“So if I have a girl, I’m free to go,” she said bitterly, hating that his words had ripped her apart. She didn’t simply fear his threats, she felt as if he’d destroyed every hint of a dream. Sadik didn’t care about her—he never had. As far as he was concerned, she was little more than a vessel. She was the carrier of his offspring, and not a person in her own right.
“I am Prince Sadik of Bahania. I will have a son.”
That almost made her smile. “As long as you had that conversation with your sperm, Sadik. You did realize those little guys might have a mind of their own, right?”
He frowned, as if mothers of royal babies didn’t discuss such things.
She jerked free of his hold and walked to the far end of the alcove. Even as she placed her hands against the cool walls, she knew there was no escape. Not from him and not from her circumstances.
Her eyes burned, and her throat tightened, but her pain was too deep for tears. Sadness tugged at her, making it difficult to stay standing.
“What happens now?” she asked, barely able to form the words, then changed her mind. “Don’t bother. I know what happens. You keep a close watch on me until the child is born, but then what?” She swallowed, not wanting to hear the truth but desperate to know. “How long until you throw me out of the palace?”
He was at her side in an instant. He grabbed her and turned her toward him. Rage tightened his face. She hadn’t known he was capable of such emotion and it should have frightened her, but she had other things to worry about. Once she knew his plans, she could come up with her own ideas of how to escape, either before or after the child was born. Because no matter how he threatened her, she would never abandon her child.
“Is that what you think?” he demanded. “That I would cast you into the streets?”
“You don’t care about me. Until now you only wanted me to warm your bed. Now that you know I’m pregnant, you’ll want me to carry the baby to term, but after that I’ll be of no use to you.”
He released her as if she’d burned him. Sadik stalked to the entrance of the alcove and turned back to face her.
“You think so little of me,” he said.
“I’m a realist. All I want to know are your plans.”
“You will be the mother of my son. As such, you are to be honored.”
Her racing heart slowed slightly. “You wouldn’t expect me to leave my child and just disappear?”
“I am not an animal.”
She wasn’t sure she believed him, but his words gave her hope. If he was willing to say that, then maybe she could go to the king for assurances. The idea of making some kind of coparenting plan work seemed impossible, but she would do anything to stay with her baby.
He glared at her. “I see the doubt in your eyes. How is that possible? In what way have I so betrayed you that you would not trust me now?”
“How much time do you have?” she asked, not caring that she continued to stir his temper. In truth she wanted him to—
The sudden sensation of butterflies in her stomach surprised her into silence. She wasn’t nervous…she was furious that she’d been put into this situation, and relieved that at least for now she didn’t have to worry about losing her child. There was no reason she should be feeling a fluttering sensation.
Cleo’s breath caught. Sadik was at her side in a second, putting his arm around her to support her weight. “What is wrong? Do you need to sit down? Should I call a doctor?”
He was so solicitous and obviously worried that she nearly laughed out loud. Then she remembered that none of his attentions were about her.
“I’m fine,” she said, as the fluttering continued. “I just felt the baby move.”
He frowned. “Is that good? Are you supposed to?”
She considered him the enemy in this situation. Worse, she had feelings for him she wasn’t willing to explore or define. The man tempted her beyond reason and made her forget herself. The safest course of action would be to get as far away as possible. But he was also the father of her child. While growing up she’d seen countless fathers who wanted nothing to do with their offspring. At least Sadik showed interest.
So against her better judgment, she took his hand in hers and brought it to her belly, where the fluttering was the strongest. She pressed his fingers into her belly.
“Can you feel that?” she asked in a whisper. “It’s the first time I’ve felt the baby move.”