magazine. Tea and sandwiches sat on a table constructed from dull metal, around which was a circle of hard, matching chairs. The table sat beneath the harsh glare of the skylight, which made Leila think she was about to be interrogated.
And maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea. She certainly had a few questions she needed to put to the man now pushing a plate of food towards her.
She held up the palm of her hand. ‘I don’t—’
‘Just try,’ he interrupted. ‘Is that too much to ask, Leila?’
The hard timbre of his voice had softened into something which sounded almost gentle and the way he said her name suddenly made her feel horribly vulnerable. Or maybe she was imagining that. Maybe she was looking for crumbs of comfort when all he was doing was being practical. She realised that she felt weak and that if she didn’t look after herself she would get weaker still. And she couldn’t afford to do that.
So she ate most of the sandwich and drank a cup of jasmine tea before pushing away her plate. Leaning back against the hard iron chair, she crossed her arms defensively over her chest and studied him.
She drew in a deep breath. ‘You can rest assured that I don’t expect anything from you, Gabe. You’ve made your feelings absolutely plain. That afternoon was a mistake—we both know that. We were never intended to be together and this...this baby doesn’t have to change that. I want you to know that you’re free to walk away. And that I can manage on my own—’
‘What are you planning to do?’ The question fired from his mouth like a blistering fusillade of shots. ‘To get rid of it?’
The accusation appalled her almost as much as the thought that he should think her capable of such an action, and Leila glared at him. He doesn’t know you, she realised bitterly. He doesn’t even like you.
‘How dare you make a suggestion like that?’ she said, unable to keep the anger from her voice. ‘I’m not ready to be a mother. I’m not sure I ever wanted to be a mother, but it seems that fate has decided otherwise. And I will accept that fate,’ she added fiercely. ‘I will have this baby and I will look after him—or her. And nothing and no one will stop me.’
Some of the tension had left him, but his mouth was still unsmiling as his gaze raked over her face. ‘And just how are you planning to go about that?’ he demanded. ‘You who are a protected and pampered princess who can’t move around freely unless under cover of darkness. What are you going to tell your brother? And how are you intending to support yourself when the child comes?’
She wished there were some place to look other than at his eyes, because they were distracting her. They were reminding her of how soft and luminous they’d been when he had held her in his arms. They were making her long for things she could never have. Things like love and warmth and closeness. A man to cradle her and tell her that everything was going to be all right.
But she didn’t dare shift her gaze away from his, because wouldn’t that be a sign of a weakness? A weakness she dared not show. Not to him. Not to her brother. Not to anyone. Because from here on in she must be strong.
Strong.
‘I have jewellery I can sell,’ she said.
His smile was faint. ‘Of course you do.’
She heard the sardonic note in his voice. Another rich princess reference, she thought bitterly. ‘Things my mother left me,’ she added.
‘And how do you propose getting your hands on this jewellery?’ he questioned. ‘Are you planning to take a trip to Qurhah and smuggle it out of the safe? Or perhaps you’re thinking of asking your brother to mail it to you?’
‘I could probably...I might be able to get one of my servants to get it to me,’ she said unconvincingly. ‘It would be risky, of course, but I’m sure it could be doable.’
Gabe gave a short laugh. Of all the women who could have ended up carrying his baby, it had to be her. A spoiled little rich girl who just snapped her beautiful fingers and suddenly money appeared. Did she really think it was going to be that easy?
His customary cool composure momentarily deserting him, he leaned across the table towards her. ‘Do you really think your brother will be amenable to you taking funds out of the country to support an illegitimate baby?’
Her face seemed to crumple at the word, and Gabe felt a brief twist of regret that he had spoken to her so harshly. But she needed to confront the truth—no matter how unpalatable she found it.
‘You have to face facts, Leila,’ he said. ‘And you’re not going to find this easy. At some point you’re going to have to tell your brother what’s happened.’ He saw the way her eyelids slid down to conceal the sudden brightness of her eyes, the thick lashes forming two ebony arcs which feathered against her skin. ‘Have you thought about what his reaction might be?’
‘I have thought of little else!’
‘So what are you planning to tell him?’
The lashes fluttered open and the look in her eyes was defiant, though the faint tremble of her lips less so. ‘Oh, I won’t mention your name, if that’s what you’re worried about.’
‘I am not frightened of your brother, Leila. And neither am I denying what happened—no matter how much I might now regret it.’ His mouth hardened. ‘I’m asking what you are intending to tell Murat.’
She didn’t answer for a moment and when she did, her voice was heavy. ‘I guess I’m going to have to tell him the truth.’
‘Or your unique version of the truth?’ he questioned wryly. ‘Won’t the Sultan think that his sister’s innocence has been compromised by a man with enough experience to have known better? It might suit your purpose—and his—to convince him that you were taken advantage of by an Englishman with something of a reputation where the opposite sex is concerned. Mightn’t it be more acceptable for him to think of you as a victim rather than a predator?’
‘I’m no victim, Gabe!’ she flared back. ‘And I’m no predator either, no matter how much it suits you to think that. I certainly didn’t plan to seduce you—I was a virgin, for heaven’s sake! I just...just gave into the “chemistry” you were talking about. And you certainly didn’t seem to be objecting at the time.’
‘No, you’re right. I didn’t put up much in the way of a fight.’ His face tightened—as if her words were taking him some place he didn’t want to go. ‘But your brother is going to wonder when and where this great love affair of ours took place.’
She flushed. ‘Obviously, he doesn’t know that I came to your hotel room.’
‘Actually, you came in my hotel room,’ he reminded her sardonically. ‘Don’t forget that part of the story, Leila—because it’s probably the best part of all.’
Her flush deepened as his words brought back memories of the way it had been that day. The way he had kissed her and told her she was beautiful. In those few brief and glorious moments, she’d thought she’d found her heart’s desire. For a short while she had felt as perfect as it was possible to feel.
But those feelings were in the past and they had been nothing but fantasy. All that was left was the brittle reality of the present—so why torture herself by remembering something
