the nature of their relationship and he was angry and full of distrust. Never before had his older sibling sought to interfere in his private life! So what kind of a hold did Elinor have over Murad that he had felt the need to come up to London specifically to confront her?
‘Jasim …’ Elinor sat up in bed with a start as the overhead light went on. ‘I had no idea you were coming back tonight!’
Sheathed in a charcoal grey business suit that was beautifully tailored to fit his lean, tautly muscled physique, he looked spectacular. Deprived of the sight of him for almost two weeks, she couldn’t help staring and drinking in every tiny detail of his appearance.
In his turn, Jasim was studying the tumbled bed, questioning why she was in it at barely past eight o’clock and asking himself if his own brother could have shared it with her earlier that evening. Her nose was pink and her eyelids reddened and swollen, making it clear that she had been upset and that she had cried. Fierce anger and disgust filled him. ‘Evidently …’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ she questioned in bewilderment.
‘Did you entertain my brother in that bed as well?’
Her eyes widened in shock at that question. ‘That’s a horrible thing to ask me—’
‘But an even more disgusting thing to have to suspect,’ Jasim countered rawly, dark eyes glittering like golden diamonds of derision over her. He strode round to the side of the bed, closed a hand round her arm and tugged her upright to face him without ceremony. ‘Answer me.’
‘Why? Do you and your brother make a habit of sharing women?’ Elinor demanded shakily, her outrage threatening to strangle her voice. ‘I slept with you so, for that reason, you assume I’m just some slut who would be quite happy to sleep with your brother as well?’
The level of her incredulity cooled Jasim’s temper and sharpened his wits. He registered that he had come within an ace of revealing too much knowledge. He had given her no reason to suspect his motives in pursuing her and if Murad was still chasing after her, it would be unwise to either alienate her or turn her loose.
Deeply wounded by his lack of faith in her, Elinor stared at him in angry reproach. What had happened to the guy who had sworn he wanted to see more of her? He pushed a hand through the black hair on his brow and raked it back in a gesture of frustration. She noticed that his hand wasn’t quite steady and registered that he was a great deal more disturbed than he was prepared to show. On the outside he seemed so cool and controlled, but inside he seethed with anger, outrage and passion. Suddenly she believed she understood what was wrong. Evidently, the reverse side of that passion was a jealous, suspicious streak a mile wide. On the balance side, however, when she had challenged him he had backed off, presumably appreciating that his suspicions were ridiculously irrational. She wondered if the behaviour of some other woman had taught him to distrust her sex.
‘How did you know your brother came to see me?’
‘My security team have been keeping an eye on this apartment.’
Wondering if she was supposed to be flattered that he should consider she required that protection, Elinor nodded and began to pull clean clothes out of the drawers in the cabinet by the bed. ‘I’ll get dressed. We have to talk.’
Jasim tensed. The idea of further discussion was the sort of womanly threat he avoided like the plague. He would much have preferred joining her in bed. Sex would have released his tension and buried the argument much more effectively than a verbal post-mortem.
Stiff and self-conscious now in his presence, Elinor went into the en-suite bathroom to dress, pulling on the jeans and the T-shirt she had chosen at speed. She wished she had had some warning that he would be returning early, for she would have liked the chance to dress up. Glancing in the mirror, she groaned, convinced that she looked horribly plain with her pink-rimmed eyes and weary pallor. When she re-entered the bedroom, Jasim was standing by the window in the living room. He still looked unrelentingly severe and he swung round, saying flatly, ‘What did my brother want with you?’
An uneasy flush warmed her cheeks and she wished she could have been more frank with him about her late mother’s relationship with Murad. But, on her first day of employment, the older man had made her promise never to divulge that connection to anyone, for he had feared that the truth would be misinterpreted and would cause them both embarrassment. Since her friend, Louise, had already made seedy insinuations about the same issue, Elinor had decided that Prince Murad had been more astute than she in foreseeing what others might make of the story and she had no intention of being equally frank with anyone else. ‘The prince thought that I was making a mistake leaving my job and getting involved with you. He said that he felt responsible for me.’
Jasim’s superb bone structure set hard as granite beneath his bronzed skin. Well, that was certainly telling him the lie of the land! Murad had been sufficiently angry to follow her to London and question her current circumstances. Jasim studied her exquisite face and the tumble of Titian curls that were so bright against her creamy skin. He wondered how he had ever deemed that hair unattractive. How had he also failed to appreciate the obvious fact that so beautiful a woman might also have the power to set brother against brother? He was stunned that he had contrived to overlook that obvious angle and it was now too late to redress the balance. Wasn’t it? He was outraged that Murad had even dared to approach her, crossing boundaries that Jasim had assumed would be respected. She was his now.
Elinor sank down in a leather armchair and straightened her slight shoulders. ‘I have something to tell you.’ Having breathed in deep, she mustered the strength not to make a theatrical production out of her news. ‘I’m pregnant.’
However, her quiet low-pitched admission had the same effect on Jasim as a sudden devastatingly loud clap of thunder. He went very still. His expressive eyes hooded over and his aggressive jaw line clenched hard. His sins, it seemed, had truly come home to roost and the minute she spoke he saw his well-organised life spinning out of control. ‘It’s my fault,’ he acknowledged flatly. ‘When we spent the night together I didn’t use protection.’
A little less defensive once he assumed the lion’s share of the blame for her condition, Elinor released her pent-up breath.
‘I deserve to pay the price for this,’ Jasim said heavily, his classic profile as grim as his tone of voice.
‘The price? There is no price—’
‘You’re wrong. Either we pay the price, or our child will. If you give birth to a boy he will be an heir to the throne of Quaram, but he can only assume that status if we marry and he is born within wedlock. If he is not, my family will never recognise him.’
‘An heir to the throne—would he be…. honestly?’ Elinor exclaimed in astonishment. ‘Marry?’
‘I don’t think that we have a choice. As soon as you’ve had your pregnancy confirmed by a doctor, I have to marry you. I refuse to embarrass my family with a scandal and it is imperative that our child is born legitimate.’
Elinor realised that his decisions were based on a different set of parameters from hers but she was impressed by his willingness to stand by their child and look into the future. ‘I could have a little girl.’
‘She, too, would be denied her inheritance if she is not born within marriage. The birth of an illegitimate child is still a very serious matter in my country.’
‘You’re prepared to marry me to stop that happening?’
