Eva followed the direction of his nod and looked out into the scene framed by the open door and discovered the car had pulled over at the end of the road where she lived.
A peaceful, quiet backwater, that at that moment was neither peaceful nor quiet. She blinked, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. Had there been an accident … a gas leak?
It had to be something pretty serious to bring TV crews with cameras here.
‘You wanted to go home.’
‘I don’t understand what’s happened.’
‘We have happened.’
‘Oh, my God!’
It was hard to hear her horrified whisper and not feel a pang of sympathy, but the emotion did not show in his manner as Karim asked, ‘You still want to go home?’
Eva continued to stare in utter bewilderment at the people, too many to count, milling around at the far end of the street. ‘But where did they all come from? Why …?’
‘Why do you think?’
Eva, conscious of an icy fist of dread in her belly, felt panic lodged like a boulder behind her breastbone. ‘Me …?’ she said, losing all colour.
‘A student, the daughter of a famous man-hater, who didn’t know who her father was, let alone that he was a prince …
Even if you had no connection with me this story would run and run …’
‘But they’ll lose interest. I’m just—’
‘The numbers will have doubled by morning.’
The brutal observation made her flinch. ‘But when will I be able to go home?’
‘Do I have to spell it out? Every nut job in the country knows where you live. Pictures of you looking cute in pigtails and braces will be on TV screens. People who are your closest friends will tell their warts-and-all stories, lovers you have forgotten existed will crawl out of the woodwork.’
‘There are no …’ She stopped, closed her eyes and pressed a clenched fist to her mouth. The realisation hit her with the force of a boulder landing on her chest—life as she knew it was over.
She felt resentment rise like bile inside her, and opened her angry green eyes. On one level she knew it was utterly irrational to lay the blame for all this at the feet of Karim, but she needed someone to blame and his shoulders were broad.
Her accusing gaze drifted downwards and she thought, Very broad, while struggling to ignore the mental image of him without a shirt.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘THANK you so much for putting a positive spin on the situation,’ Eva said, injecting silky calm into her voice as she dragged her eyes from the almost surreal scene in the street to Karim’s face.
She surprised a look on his face that had he been anyone else at all she would have interpreted as sympathy.
‘If you want positive spin or, for that matter, spin, I’m not your man.’
‘You’re not my man,’ she retorted seamlessly.
‘I could be.’
‘I …’ Her protective anger fell away so abruptly that Eva shivered. The anger had been her insulation, her protection. Suddenly she felt exposed, vulnerable and more alone than she had in her life previously.
She reached for his hand and held on as if he were the only thing between her and drowning.
‘I can’t go home, can I? Not ever.’
It wasn’t a question.
She heard the choked sound of distress that came from her throat and bit down hard on her quivering lip, determined not to give him the satisfaction of falling apart before his eyes.
‘It is rarely a good thing to go backwards, or even stand still.’
His voice was almost unrecognisably gentle … She sniffed and clung to his hand. Was he trying to make her cry?
Karim struggled to maintain his objectivity as he watched her struggle to come to terms with reality. It was a big task … this sort of thing was tough enough if you had been brought up knowing that your every thoughtless action and careless word would be seized on by the media, scrutinised and pored over.
Karim hardened his heart and reminded himself that she was overdue a reality check.
A cry from outside made Eva turn.
‘It’s her!’
Someone took up the cry and all turned in their direction. She watched as the pack began to advance en masse towards them.
Karim spoke to the driver in his native tongue and, leaning across her, pulled the door closed, shutting out the yells and the crowds. ‘It’s all right.’ His hand went to the back of her head as she leaned into his chest; she was shaking hard.
‘I can’t do this.’ Her hands clenched into her sides, her nails gouging half moons into the soft flesh of her palms as she fought back the sobs of emotion that rose in her throat.
‘I can.’
It was no boast, just a statement of fact.
She turned her head. In profile his features radiated confidence and maybe some of it seeped into her because she was able to control the quiver in her voice as she asked, ‘So what happens now?’ Don’t think too far ahead, she advised herself—just take things one step at a time. ‘Do I have to go into hiding or something?’ Her smile was painfully false as she added, ‘Should I dye my hair and wear dark glasses?’
Her comment drew Karim’s glance to her bright head and an image of it lying spread out on a pillow around her face flashed into his head. His jaw tightened.
‘That should not be necessary.’ But it might be necessary to put his libido back in its box; he had no time for distractions while he had this many potentially explosive balls in the air.
Eva shrugged. ‘Just an idea. So what does happen now?’ Feeling emotionally battered, she struggled to feel any real interest in his response.
‘We are going to the hospital.’ As he turned his head to assess her reaction to this information it occurred to Karim that had he walked through the doors of Casualty with Eva now they would have jumped her to the head of the queue.
The only trace of colour in her alabaster-pale face was the deep emerald green of her spectacular eyes. Her pallor served to emphasise the impression of fragility suggested by her fine-boned features and slight build.
Her self-possessed act might be more convincing if she had been able to stop her teeth audibly chattering.
‘A hospital?’
He nodded.
‘Why—are
