And if things go well—”
“Monday? So soon?”
“There’s no point in waiting. Yes. Monday, two o’clock. If all goes well, nine months from now, I’ll be a mother.” Madison hesitated. “Will you wish me luck?”
Barb looked at her for a long moment. Then she sighed, picked up her glass and held it out.
“Of course. I wish you all the luck in the world. You know that. I just hope—”
“I’ll be fine.”
The friends touched glasses. They smiled at each other, the kind of smile women share when they love each other but disagree about something truly important. Then Barb cleared her throat.
“So,” she said briskly, “since Monday’s the big day, how about we celebrate tonight?”
“Aren’t you meeting Hank?”
“Actually I thought we’d both meet Hank. His boss just bought a place on Sixtieth off Fifth, and he’s throwing a big party.”
Madison batted her lashes. “A party in the city in June?” she said in her very best East Coast boarding school voice. “How unfashionable.”
“Come on, don’t say no. It’ll be fun.”
“And maybe, just maybe, I’ll be swept off my feet by some Prince Charming.” Madison laughed at Barb’s blush. “You are so transparent, Barbara!”
“Heck, this is only Friday. Your date with a test tube isn’t until Monday.”
“Very amusing.”
“Come on, Maddie. If your mind’s made up about this test tube thing—”
“It’s not called ‘this test tube thing,’ it’s called—”
“I know what it’s called.”
Madison sighed. “It’s been a long day. And I’m not dressed for—”
“The party’s only a couple of blocks from your place. We can stop by first so you can change. Please?”
“Sometimes, I forget what you’re like when you get an idea.”
Barb grinned. “Like a dog with a bone, that’s me. Look, one last try at finding Prince Charming can’t hurt.”
“There are no princes, there are only toads.”
“You’re a tough woman, Madison Whitney.”
“No, I’m a sucker for an old friend.”
“You’ll go?”
Madison nodded. She’d go, but only because it meant a lot to Barb. Come Monday, she’d put all this nonsense behind her.
The procedure would take.
She would get pregnant.
She’d have a baby, raise it alone and give it all the love in her heart.
CHAPTER TWO
BY THE time Tariq’s taxi pulled up in front of the town house in the Sixties, he was having second thoughts.
Second thoughts? The truth was, he was on thirds and fourths.
What on earth had made him come here? He was looking for a wife, and were the chances of that happening at a summer party in Manhattan?
The cabbie looked at him. “Mister? You getting out or not?”
Not, he thought, but he was here. He might as well go inside.
The cab pulled away and Tariq looked around him. The street, bounded at either end by wide, busy, heavily trafficked thoroughfares, was tree-lined and quiet like many others in this part of the city but by the time he got to the front door, he could hear the beat of overamped music.
Finger poised above the bell, he hesitated.
It was not too late to change his mind. Strike three, he thought with a mixture of amusement and irritation, but not an important one. He’d go home, change into his running gear and head out again. A couple of miles through Central Park, perhaps he’d clear his head enough to stop thinking about obligation and duty and—
The door swung open.
One hundred and twenty decibels of guitar riff inundated him. A brunette with a cigarette in one hand and a lighter in the other tilted her head back and flashed him a delighted smile.
“Well, well, well,” she said, “such a nice package to find on the doorstep!”
She was a nice package, too, especially in a translucent dress that would have been bedroom lingerie meant only for a husband’s eyes in his country but was the latest fashion in these circles.
“Isn’t it lucky for both of us I decided to step outside for a cigarette right this second?”
Her smile, her voice. This was the opening gambit of a game he’d played dozens of times. A few drinks, some conversation and he’d take her home. To her bed, not his, because it was less complicated that way, whether what began tonight lasted for a few weeks or even a couple of months. And then, inevitably, he’d lose interest and she would demand to know why.
The woman moved closer. “Aren’t you coming in?”
She lay her hand on his arm. He looked down at her crimson-tipped fingers, then at her face. She was beautiful but the truth was, there’d be a dozen more just like her inside. Beautiful women who’d throw themselves at him because of his looks—there was no point in being modest about what was, basically, a gift of nature that had nothing to do with him.
And when they found out who he was, that he had a title and more money than even he could comprehend.
No, he thought, he was not in the mood for that tonight.
“Sorry,” he said politely, “but I seem to have come to the wrong address.”
“Silly,” she said, moving closer, letting her breasts brush against his arm. “You’ve come to exactly the right address—but if you’d prefer, we can go someplace quiet.”
Suddenly everything about the situation was distasteful. Tariq’s expression hardened; he shook her hand away and stepped back.
“I’m not interested,” he said coldly. Her face filled with color and he told himself he was being a son of a bitch, but—
“Your highness!”
Tariq jerked his head up. One of his attorney’s younger partners was hurrying toward him. Hell, he thought grimly. He was trapped.
The brunette made a quick recovery. “Your highness?” she said in a breathy voice. “You mean, you’re a king?”
“It’s
