hear everything he was saying and had to ask him to repeat things.
Her eyes widened with disbelief. She hadn’t come to Isla de Sinnebar for this. She was to have a wonderful home of her own choosing in England—a country estate with stables, if she liked. She would have an income appropriate for the mother of a royal child, and a private jet at her disposal so she could visit their child—within reason—whenever she wanted to. There was no mention of joint parenting—joint anything. It was a clean cut. It was a life according to the old saying—beyond the dreams of avarice—but greed she had none, just a longing for the family life she had always dreamed of, where children would thrive and grow in the full knowledge that they were loved. ‘You’re very generous,’ she said politely when Razi had finished laying out all the benefits that would accrue from being, not even a royal mistress, but a royal brood mare.
He made a casual gesture, as if paying a king’s ransom to keep her out of sight was more than worth it.
She couldn’t leave it here. She had to find a way to touch him. ‘And you, Razi—what part do you intend to play in our baby’s life?’
He looked at her as if she were mad. ‘A full part, of course.’
‘And you’ll have time for that? You’ll have time to be a full-time parent?’
He waved his hand dismissively. ‘You don’t understand the life I lead.’
‘Clearly.’
‘I have over a thousand staff working for me in Isla de Sinnebar alone.’
‘Staff,’ she said quietly. ‘Is that how you were brought up, Razi? By staff?’
She could not have predicted the look in his eyes. She could never have guessed they would fill with pain. She knew immediately the cause of Razi’s seething anger and her heart went out to him, but where her own child was concerned it did not soften her by one iota. Her baby was not going to suffer the same fate as its father—and if that meant there would have to be some big changes in her own life, so be it. ‘I’m going to stay,’ she said.
Razi could not have looked more shocked. ‘You can’t stay,’ he argued.
‘Of course I’ll stay,’ she insisted. ‘And I don’t need a big house—just somewhere safe where I can bring up my child happily. You can visit any time you like. I would never keep you from your baby, Razi, just as I would never expect you to deny me access to my child.’
He stared at her in silence. Was that because he couldn’t believe what she was offering? Lucy guessed she was very different from Razi’s mother. He might not have spelled out the details of his childhood—he didn’t have to: it was all there on his face. His mother had been compliant, she guessed, and most probably petted and pampered for falling into line. But then the old Sheikh had tired of her and she had been ignored.
Well, Lucy Tennant was prepared to do none of this. She would make her own way in life. ‘I’m offering to stay without condition or expectation,’ she explained when Razi remained silent. ‘With your permission, I imagine I’ll be allowed to open a restaurant.’
‘What?’ he cut across her.
‘A restaurant,’ she said patiently. ‘It seems the obvious thing.’
‘To you, maybe, but I cannot allow you to work.’
Lucy frowned. At a stroke Razi had forbidden her to have a career.
She must be reasonable, she warned herself. She could see that maybe she’d made a blunder—fronting a restaurant would be too high profile. ‘I could be a silent partner—I could run things from the kitchen without ever showing my face. We have to find a solution, Razi. We must. We have to make this work.’
As he stared at her he realised that before this moment he hadn’t believed a woman capable of a selfless act, but Lucy had proved him wrong. She had proved herself in so many ways even he didn’t think it was fair she had to continue doing so. It seemed some people were always fighting with their backs against the wall, while others had it handed to them on a plate. With Ra’id’s help he had fought his way up and there was nothing lacking in his life, while Lucy was completely at his mercy.
She stood facing him, expecting nothing, asking nothing. He touched her cheek almost reverently, growing increasingly aware of her sacred role. ‘I’ll make sure you’re well taken care of.’
By whom? her steady gaze asked him.
‘Surely you can see the sense in my proposals?’ he demanded, tightening his grip on her arms.
He had not expected her eyes to fill with tears, but having all the strength and every advantage he let her go. ‘Don’t look so downcast. I’ll buy you two homes—one here and one in England, but you can’t work. It wouldn’t be—’
‘Appropriate?’ she supplied softly. ‘I haven’t come here looking for handouts, Razi. I don’t want anything from you in the material sense. All I ask is your promise never to part me from our child.’
‘And to change centuries of tradition?’
‘If women don’t work here, don’t you think you’re wasting a valuable resource? If traditions have been in place for centuries, maybe they’re due an update. Sorry,’ she said, seeing his face tense. ‘It’s really none of my business.’
As he stared at her he found himself wishing that it were her business.
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