at all had almost certainly saved her mother’s life.
‘No thanks are necessary,’ he said in the same even tone. ‘And now you’re safe too,’ he added.
And massively in debt to Tadj, whom she loved and believed she was starting to know. Tadj’s brain was rigidly compartmentalised with the biggest section devoted to duty to his country and its people, and the next devoted to justice. He would never break the laws of Qalala, which left Lucy finely balanced between self-determination and gratitude. Needing time and space to think, she stood.
‘Sit,’ he insisted.
‘I’d rather stand, if you don’t mind.’
‘And even if I do, I’m guessing,’ he suggested dryly.
He towered over her, all-powerful and compelling, making her wish she had sketch pad handy to record the moment that Lucy Gillingham confronted the Emir of Qalala.
‘You’ve been through a lot,’ he said.
‘So have many people.’ Tipping her chin, she stared him in the eyes. ‘The fact that we both have should make it easier to talk about the future of our child.’
Tadj made no reply, but this was a good place for them to talk, as there was no escape, Lucy thought. ‘In six months time we’ll be parents, responsible for a new life. I’m thrilled. I hope you are?’
‘You want to know how I feel about becoming a father?’ Tadj said in a voice she couldn’t read. ‘Ecstatic? Is that what you want to hear?’
Was this the Emir of Qalala or Tadj speaking? Lucy’s emotions were so messed up, she couldn’t tell. All she knew was that they were at an impasse with no tidy answers, and no way she could think of to make this right. There was only one constant, Lucy concluded as she folded her hands protectively over her stomach. She loved this man, and would always love him, and she grieved for the fact that they couldn’t be like other couples, and share equally in this greatest joy of all.
HE WAS ECSTATIC at the thought of becoming a father, but there remained a lot for them to set in place to protect those he cared about. Lucy’s expression was wounded. She didn’t know what to expect of him. Perhaps that was for the best. He still had many facts and consequences to absorb and consider. The days of keeping royal lives private were long past, which was a good thing, in his opinion, and an idea was already starting to take shape in his mind.
‘It’s a long flight,’ he said factually, ‘and I think you should take advantage of the bedrooms on board.’
Was that an order, or an invitation? Lucy wondered as she rose to her feet.
‘You mentioned we’d be staying in a palace in Qalala? I wasn’t sure which one,’ she admitted. ‘I didn’t realise you owned so many. I really should tell Miss Francine which one I’m staying in to reassure her...’
Tadj shrugged. ‘We’ll be visiting my fort in the desert. It isn’t a prison,’ he added when Lucy pulled a face, ‘but a building of historic importance that has been completely renovated and refurbished, and I now consider it to be one of my most luxurious and well-equipped homes. Architects and historians worldwide seem to agree with me, as Wolf Fort has recently been designated one of the wonders of both the modern and the ancient world. I always find a stay there refreshing, and I’m sure you will too. It will give you chance to rest as you absorb another part of your baby’s heritage.’
‘Our baby,’ Lucy said. ‘Sounds great, but now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to lie down...if someone would be good enough to show me to my bedroom.’
She was mentally exhausted and emotionally drained, Lucy concluded as Tadj picked up the phone, but at least everything was out in the open.
‘One of the flight attendants will show you the way,’ Tadj said coolly. ‘I’ll make sure you’re woken up before we land.’
A moment of pure panic hit, when she realised that the Emir of Qalala could arrange for her to be hustled off the plane and locked away until she had her baby. She’d taken so much on trust, Lucy thought as she snatched a look over her shoulder to see if anything of the guy in the café remained.
‘Go,’ he said, glancing up from the documents he’d been studying. ‘You look exhausted.’
Had she lost his trust along the way? She could only hope not. If this was it, and they could never be close again, there would be a big black hole in her life that nothing could fill.
The bedroom on board Tadj’s jet was quite small but well equipped with the most comfortable bed, Lucy thought with a relieved sigh as she settled down on the crisp white sheets. But sleep didn’t come easily, and she tossed and turned as she tried to work out what Tadj was thinking. When she finally drifted off to sleep there were worry lines between her brows, but she slept heavily, only waking when the promised knock came on the door.
Having taken a fast shower, she wrapped a towel around her and came out to find fresh clothes laid out on the bed. It was pretty much a replay of the clothes she’d been wearing when she boarded the aircraft. Who’d done this for her? she wondered, tracing the edge of the fabric with her fingers. Time to get her head around the fact that billionaires lived very different lives, with squads of people to anticipate their every need. The engine noise was already changing in preparation for landing, and with a shrug she pulled on the clothes.
Back in the main cabin, there was no sign of Tadj. He must have returned to the flight deck to take over the landing of the plane. She took her seat, and as the undercarriage went down she felt safe in his hands. Outside the window, a spectacular light show of pink, indigo, and gold was the most spectacular welcome to Qalala. The jet was on its final approach to what appeared to be a solitary airstrip in rolling miles of golden desert. By the time the wheels touched down, the purple light of dusk had settled over the land, but far from this being a sinister, or isolated location, Lucy could see vast crowds had gathered. The length of the runway was lined with bonfires, and people were already celebrating Tadj’s return. Entire families seemed to have turned out to welcome him home. There were even riders on horseback, dressed in traditional robes, waving flambeaux in the air. The Emir of Qalala was home.
‘Are you ready to disembark?’
Lucy turned to see Tadj standing behind her in the aisle. For a moment words escaped her. No more the conventionally dressed pilot, but in traditional black robes edged with gold, and a flowing black headdress wrapped around his head and face. The air of danger and exoticism he exuded was phenomenal. The photograph in his country house did him no justice at all.
‘Lucy?’ he prompted when she didn’t move right away. ‘People are waiting for us.’
Tempted to stubbornly refuse to rush, she remembered the countless people who had waited so long to greet their ruler, so she did rush, and was greeted on exit by warm gusts of spice-laden air, mixed with the astringent tang of aviation fuel.
‘Shouldn’t you go first?’ she asked Tadj when he indicated that she should go ahead of him.
A flight attendant discreetly explained that the Emir would exit the aircraft last, which seemed strange to Lucy, but she didn’t want to tread on any toes at such an early stage of the visit. Stepping out, she was blinded
