Last Chance For Baby

Kane gave her a peculiar look. “How have you been feeling, Julia?” he asked, ignoring her suggestion.

“Just fine,” she assured, though she seemed confused by the inquiry.

“Somebody mentioned you’d been sick several times—in the restroom.”

She jumped, and Raoul saw her hand hover over her stomach for an instant. “M-maybe once or twice. My system is a little sensitive after the Christmas holidays. You know, all that rich food. But I’m fine. I’ve even put on a few pounds.”

This seemed to interest Kane almost as much as her supposed illness. “Yes, I guess you have.”

Raoul frowned, wondering what nonsense his friend was pursuing. It was a matter for concern if a valued employee was suffering from ill-health, but anyone could see that Julia was fine. As for those “few pounds” she’d claimed, he’d noticed her figure was fuller and more enticing than ever, though it was well concealed by a heavy cashmere sweater.

Why western women were so concerned about weight was a mystery. Julia would be no less lovely if she gained a hundred pounds. Perhaps, though, the problem didn’t lie with western women, but with western men who could not appreciate the beauty of a ripe, voluptuous body.

America was a confusing place. He’d spent many of his thirty-six years in the country, off and on, and still didn’t always understand its ways.

He turned to Julia. “I will see you for dinner tonight. I appreciate your offer to acquaint me with some of the Chicago food you have raved about.”

Julia’s eyes narrowed. Things were going from bad to worse, but if Raoul thought he could manipulate her into having dinner with him, he was sadly mistaken. It would be awkward extricating herself in front of the company president, but she couldn’t go out with Raoul. He was too compelling…too interested in the reason she’d left that Washington conference without a backward glance.

“That’s a great idea,” Kane Haley said before she could say anything. “But you’ll both be my guests.”

Huh?

Julia could tell that Raoul shared her confusion and they exchanged glances. She couldn’t think of a single reason Kane would invite himself along, unless he was only thinking about visiting with an old friend.

“You know, I forgot I have an earlier commitment,” she said. “But it doesn’t matter, I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourselves more without me.”

“No.” The two men uttered the protest in unison.

“You must dine with me tonight,” Raoul insisted. “We have much news to share.”

News?

No way was Julia going there.

The only “news” she had to share was something she didn’t want him knowing in the first place. He was a proud man, and discovering she’d used him as a sperm donor wouldn’t go over in a big way. It wouldn’t matter that she’d felt desperate and had convinced herself he’d make her a beautiful baby; he’d be outraged.

With good reason, she acknowledged silently.

A familiar sense of guilt crowded Julia’s throat, and she shifted uneasily.

“Really, I have other plans,” she said. “Another time.”

“Please cancel,” Kane growled. Despite the “please” it sounded more like a command, and his face had the odd expression he’d gotten before, when he’d watched her talking to Maggie Steward. “I think we should properly welcome our new CFO to Chicago, don’t you?”

“I—”

“I’d consider it a favor,” he added.

A favor. Requested from the president. Sort of like a royal invitation you couldn’t refuse.

“All right,” Julia agreed reluctantly. “But there’s something I’d better go check…with Mrs. Steward.” She didn’t have anything to check, but since they were all in her office, it was the only avenue of escape.

“Wait.” Kane picked up something from her desk and handed it to her. “You’re looking a little green, so you’d better take these. Raoul, we’ll meet in your new office in say, fifteen minutes?” He stomped out, looking quite frustrated.

Julia’s fingers closed around the package of crackers she’d been trying to swallow for lunch. What did crackers have to do with anything? And why would the president of the company be so concerned about the condition of her stomach?

“I take it you do not wish our relationship announced to the office,” Raoul said after a moment.

She rolled her eyes, effectively distracted. “We don’t have a relationship.”

With a casual flick of his wrist, Raoul released the door so it swung closed. If it had been any other woman than Julia, he would have allowed the matter to drop. But the memory of her warm sensuality still invaded his sleep, though months had passed since he’d last held her.

He wasn’t ready for marriage—he’d even left Hasan because of the pressure from his mother to start a family—but why shouldn’t they enjoy one another? Particularly when their goal in remaining single seemed to be the same.

“I do not wish to make you uncomfortable, Julia, but nothing has changed…I still want you.”

All at once the room seemed smaller and closer and Julia dragged needed air into her lungs. There was nothing menacing about the declaration, he was simply stating his desire.

The trouble was, she still wanted him, too.

Her body was practically screaming to touch him, and there wasn’t a single thing she could do to make that need go away.

Chapter Two

“Please…don’t,” Julia said faintly.

“Shouldn’t I be honest?”

It wasn’t Raoul’s honesty she was worried about. It was her own.

Darn it all, she’d told him he didn’t need to worry about getting her pregnant, that it wasn’t a problem! She’d said they could enjoy being together without bothering to use anything. The conference had continued for another three days and her ploy had worked. One month later she’d woken up, sick to her stomach and counting the days since her cycle should have started.

In other words, pregnant with a sheik’s baby.

Her child would have all the advantages of Raoul’s splendid genetics without her having to deal with the father. She’d just conveniently forgotten that the world really was a small place and that he could end up knowing about it after all.

“Perhaps Kane is correct, you do not look well,” Raoul murmured, concerned at the pallor in her face. “Sit down, Julia.”

“I don’t need a mother hen,” she said, sending him a scathing look. But she did as he’d requested, sinking into her chair with a sigh. “You’re the last person I expected to see today.”

“Kane made his selection for the position very quickly. It seemed best for the company.”

Julia drummed her fingers on the surface of the desk. “How could you move to Chicago on such short notice? Don’t you have family commitments?”

Raoul’s lips tightened.

According to his family, his first concern should be to marry and produce children. His father was not so intolerable on the subject as his mother, but neither were pleased at his delay. They had fallen in love and married young themselves, and couldn’t understand why he resisted their happy fate.

“My absence is not important. I have three brothers who help my father and grandfather in governing Hasan,” he said.

“Oh.” Julia seemed to be thinking his comment over with more concentration than it deserved. “What about sisters—do you have any?”

A smile eased the tension in Raoul’s face. “Two. They are treasures to us all.”

“But not in helping to govern the country, right? I suppose they have to wear robes and masks over their faces and not say anything except when spoken to?”

Perplexity creased the space between his eyes. He and Julia hadn’t spoken of their personal lives when they’d met before, so in the ways that mattered most they did not know each other.

“There are many incorrect ideas about my country. Women in Hasan do not wear the chador,” he explained. “They are as free as their western counterparts. Perhaps more free, because our men do not have the same limited views of feminine beauty.”

Julia didn’t look convinced. “Your sisters—”

“Have no interest in ruling Hasan,” he said, having had this discussion with more than one American woman. “Jasmine is an artist who wishes to be left alone to work—she will not even act as our cultural minister. And Fatima is a doctor. She occupies a position similar to your surgeon general, but spends most of her time treating patients.”

“I see.”

Raoul glanced at his watch. He would prefer staying to talk with Julia, but he was expected in that meeting. “I’ll see you later,” he said. “Perhaps Kane will change his mind about going to dinner with us and we can be alone.”

Color flooded back into Julia’s face with extraordinary speed and her eyes flashed in annoyance. “Oh, yes,” she mocked. “My ‘invitation’ to help you sample Chicago’s cuisine.”

“You raved about your pizza and Italian beef sandwiches when we met in Washington. You said—”

“I don’t care what I said,” she snapped.

He chuckled. She had such fire, he adored that part of her. “You would not have agreed if I had simply asked.”

“So true.”

“So I ensured you couldn’t refuse.”

Her eyes grew frosty, even remote, and Raoul looked at her in puzzlement. “I’ve already had enough men thinking they know what’s best for everyone else,” Julia said evenly, but she was plainly furious. “I won’t let anybody control me.”

Obviously he wasn’t accomplishing anything by staying, so Raoul gave her a courteous bow and opened the door again. “It may have seemed that I was trying to do that, but I wasn’t. We will speak later, when you are feeling…better.”

Something hit the door as he closed it behind him, and he wondered what Julia had thrown. Nothing too dangerous, he decided with a small smile.

He liked this Julia even better than the temptress he had known in Washington. She was just as seductive, but there were depths he’d only glimpsed during their tempestuous few days together.

Depths he wanted to explore.

We will speak later, when you are feeling…better.

Better.

Julia practically snorted. He’d meant logical. Or sensible. Or some other male notion about the return of reason to an irrational woman. She willed herself to calm down, certain so much emotion couldn’t be good for either her or the baby. And the worst part was knowing she’d brought the whole thing on herself.

Sitting back in her chair, she put a hand over her abdomen and practiced her deep breathing.

Her life had changed so much since she’d had that June appointment with the gynecologist. She’d felt herself going cold while hearing the results of the tests, but the doctor just kept talking. Just kept explaining. Saying that endometriosis usually got worse, that a pregnancy might relieve the symptoms, or even eliminate them. But, as time passed her chance of conceiving a baby would grow less and less…that it was probably a condition she’d had since first starting her periods.

Julia shuddered, thinking about her childhood.

She’d been so frightened of her father, a loud, over-bearing army officer who controlled his household with the same iron fist he used to control the men under his command. She’d tried to tell him how much her menstrual periods hurt, but he’d told her to stop whining. Pain was an illusion.

“Some illusion,” she muttered.

The worst part was that she’d finally accepted his iron-man philosophy, deciding she just had a low threshold for pelvic pain and shouldn’t complain. Maybe it wouldn’t have changed anything to know the truth earlier, but she would have been prepared.

The phone rang, making her jump, and she reached for the receiver, happy to think about anything but the mess she’d made for herself.

“Yes?”

“How did it go?” Maggie Steward’s soft, concerned tones were a balm to Julia.

“Lousy,” she admitted. “God, I’ve done something really stupid. And insensitive and insane.”

“This afternoon?”

“No. Over six months ago.”

“So Sheik Oman is the…” Her friend’s voice trailed and she sighed. “Okay. Let’s have dinner tonight and we’ll talk about it.”

“I can’t.” Julia stabbed a pen at her daily planner. “Raoul announced that I’d invited him to dinner, right in front of Kane. Before I could tell him to take a hike, Kane jumped in and said he’d take us both.”

“Really?”

“Really. What’s wrong with that boss of yours lately? He’s been really strange. You should have heard his inquisition about me being sick in the restroom.”

“He’s your boss, too.” Maggie’s tone was prim, the way she sometimes got when she was protecting Kane. She never let her hair down, so to speak, when it came to the president of the company.

“He’s not my boss, he’s my boss’s boss,” Julia said fliply.

“Is that supposed to make a difference?”

“I guess not.”

Despite the stress of the past two hours, a smile crept across Julia’s face. Maggie was only a few years older than herself, but she certainly knew how to put an impertinent employee in her place. At least she knew how to put an employee named Julia Parker in her place.

“Look, Maggie, I have to work this out on my own. But thanks for the support.”

“Are you going to be all right?”

“You bet.” Julia dropped the receiver back in its cradle, shaking her head at the outrageous falsehood.

Her image of a sheik from the Middle East had been abysmally vague. She never would have guessed that Raoul Oman was the king’s son, rather than being a distant cousin or something. Now she knew and it complicated an already complicated situation.

Soon she’d have to make up her mind how to tell Raoul that she was pregnant…and that the baby was his.

She could imagine how well that piece of news would go over.

“Is this all right, Julia?”

“Fine,” she muttered, sitting down at the restaurant table. Both Kane and Raoul had been painfully attentive since they’d left the office and she was sick to death of it.

Are you warm enough?

I’m fine. She’d shown Raoul her coat but he’d just frowned.

It’s January and there is snow on the ground. You should wear something heavier.

As she got out of his Jaguar, Kane had rushed around, a fierce expression on his face as he grabbed her arm. Be careful. Don’t slip on the ice, you could hurt yourself.

Between Raoul’s hot glances and the peculiar way Kane was acting, Julia was ready to scream, and they hadn’t even given the waiter their order. She only hoped she could get through the evening without tossing her cookies. When Raoul had suggested they go to an Italian restaurant for some of Chicago’s famous pizza she’d smiled and gulped.

Pizza wasn’t the ideal food for a pregnant woman still coping with all-day morning sickness.

Together Raoul and Kane argued about the merits of the Chicago Bulls and the Dallas Cowboys, an argument she’d ignore at the best of times. After a few minutes they consulted her about the pizza and she shrugged. “Anything you like,” she answered. It really didn’t matter, since nothing connected to a pizza would sit well on her stomach.

“Would you like some wine?” It was Raoul’s question, but for some reason Kane looked particularly interested in her answer.

“No alcohol, right, Julia?” he prompted after a moment. “It wouldn’t be good for you.”

“I…no, just milk,” she said, knowing she needed to get something in her stomach for the sake of the baby.

Kane gave her another odd stare, and she lifted an eyebrow. She’d never had a great deal of contact with Kane Haley, but now he was acting like her den mother or something.

She sighed, more exhausted than at any other time in her life. Being pregnant was harder work than she’d ever thought it would be, but at night, when she was thinking about the coming baby, she knew it was worth everything.

“Have you found a place to live?” she asked Raoul. The waiter had brought milk for her and coffee for the men. It was warm in the restaurant and she’d nearly fallen asleep—quite a feat, considering the tensions swirling around the table.

“I’ve temporarily settled at a hotel.”

Raoul swallowed some of his coffee with an effort. It would have been rude to tell the restaurant that their coffee had the strength of dishwater. His tastes were somewhat different from American preferences.

“You should buy a house out in the Northshore area,” Kane said. “Nice houses out there. If nothing else, it’s a good investment.”

“I have no wish for a family home.”

His friend shrugged. “Sometimes families are thrust upon us, whether we like it or not.”

A soft gasp came from Julia and her hand jerked. She tried to catch her milk from toppling on the table, with only marginal success. Liquid splattered liberally and Kane jumped up to get more napkins from their waiter.

She sputtered an apology, her face nearly as white as the milk. Raoul placed his hand over her damp fingers in an attempt to calm her. “It is all right, chère,” he said quietly. “There is no harm.”

“No.” She shook her head. “That is, I’m just over-reacting.”

“Overreacting to what?”

“To…” Her voice trailed and she shrugged. “Nothing. Kane is right, I haven’t been feeling well. I should go home.”

“I’ll call for a taxi.”

“No.” Julia’s protest fell on blank air, because Raoul had already disappeared. For an instant, the need to assert her independence warred with the desire to escape. Tarnation, she could call her own cab. She was perfectly capable of managing on her own, and she didn’t need someone playing the big strong rescuer.

There wasn’t any time to think about it though, because Kane returned with the waiter, who began cleaning up the mess she’d made.

“Where’s Raoul?” Kane asked.

“Calling a cab,” Raoul answered as he approached the table. “It is outside, waiting. Julia isn’t well and I am escorting her home.”

“Oh.” Kane frowned as he glanced at her. “Stomach again?”

“Something like that.”

“Do you need help?”

The inquiry was directed at his friend, not Julia, and her temper flared. “I don’t need help from either one of you,” she growled. “Believe it or not, I’ve survived quite well on my own since I was seventeen.”

“I could not let you go alone,” Raoul said, sounding appalled. “It isn’t done.”

Julia sucked in a breath. Men. “Maybe not in Hasan, but here in America—”

“I agree with Raoul,” Kane interrupted. “One of us will see you home.”

“That would be my privilege,” Raoul insisted.

Kane looked ready to argue, then shrugged. “All right, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

It wasn’t all right with Julia, but once again Raoul had placed her in a difficult position. If she insisted on leaving by herself she’d look like a shrew in front of Kane Haley, so she managed to grit her teeth and not say anything at all.

In the lobby, Raoul looked out at the lightly falling snow and pulled a scarf from his pocket. He turned to Julia, prepared for a battle.

“You must put this around your neck—you’re not dressed for such weather.”

Her stubborn chin lifted. “I’m sure the cab is heated.”

“You should not get chilled, particularly when you aren’t feeling well.”

“Raoul…don’t push.”

The tired plea cut straight to his heart, but he shook his head and drew the silk scarf around her neck. It wasn’t thick enough in such weather, but it would help protect her throat. He would have put his own coat around her, but knew he would lose such an effort. Julia was as skittish as one of his colts back home and she could only be pushed so far. At least she had gloves to wear, though he couldn’t see how the stylishly thin leather could provide the necessary warmth.

Kane was dealing with the bill, so Raoul nodded a farewell to his friend and took Julia’s arm.

“It may be slippery,” he murmured when she tried to shake free.

“I’m more accustomed to walking on ice than you are—or do you have an annual snowfall in Hasan?”

He chuckled. “No snow.”

She plainly wasn’t happy, but he held her firmly as they walked to the taxicab. Hasanian women were fiercely independent in their own way, but they willingly accepted the courtesies required by male honor.

“Really, you don’t have to come with me,” Julia insisted as she slid onto the vehicle seat, and he followed.

“I don’t have all night,” said the cab driver. “I go off shift in half an hour. What’s your address, lady?”

Raoul’s eyes narrowed and he looked every bit an imperious sheik, ruler of his world. “You will wait as long as necessary, is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.” The man ran a finger under his collar and scrunched down farther in the front seat.

Julia sighed. There wasn’t any point in fighting the issue. One way or the other Raoul was coming with her and she might as well get it over with. She gave the driver her address, certain that Raoul would remember both the number and street name. Whatever else he was, he wasn’t stupid, and he was determined to get his answers about their brief affair.

When the taxi pulled into the driveway of her nineteenth-century brick house, set well back from the street, she squared her shoulders. “Uh…thanks. I’ll see you at work.”

A soft laugh came from Raoul as he took the fare from his wallet. “I will see you inside, and call another cab after you’re settled.”

“No.”

“Yes, Julia.” His tone, though gentle, didn’t brook disagreement, and she simply didn’t have the energy to start another argument.

“Fine,” she muttered.

Lord, she was tired. Too tired to fight, which was frightening. It was too easy to let someone else take control, to find yourself struggling for an identity. Raoul was exactly the sort of man she’d vowed to keep out of her life, and here he was, square in the middle of it.

The interior of her house was chilly, and she hurried to the thermostat and pushed it higher.

“Go lie down,” Raoul murmured. “I will fix you something warm to drink.”

Julia found herself obeying before she could even think. In the bedroom she threw off her skirt and sweater and deliberately pulled on a thick velour nightgown that covered her from her neck to her toes—a far cry from the scraps of lace and silk she’d worn during their time in Washington.

Still…she looked at herself in the mirror and decided that even without the less-than-romantic nightwear, she was hardly a candidate for seduction. Her skin was pale, her medium-length shag-cut hair was stringy around her face, and there were dark circles beneath her eyes. The extra tiredness was natural. After all, she was pregnant and she’d never expected to see Raoul again. He’d stormed back into her world with the subtleness of a lovesick camel.

Muppet, her five-year-old black-and-white cat, was curled up on the bedroom fireplace hearth. He got up and stretched when she crawled under the down comforter, then wiggled his way under the sheet to settle next to her stomach.

“Hello,” she whispered, running her fingers through his fur. He purred, and the comforting rumble eased some of the tension in her body.

When Raoul left she would have to force herself to eat and drink more milk. It was like a mantra these days. Eat. Eat. Eat. Drink gallons of milk. And pray the baby gained weight. She’d taken her prenatal vitamins that morning, so….

Julia’s eyes flew open.

The vitamins.

She tried to remember where she’d left them. If they were on the kitchen counter, then the secret was probably out. Alarmed, she slid from the bed and went into the bathroom, gratefully closing her fingers around the bottle sitting on the vanity.

“Julia?”

“I’ll be right out.” Quickly she thrust the bottle into a drawer.

Raoul had placed a tray on her bedside table, and he watched as she hurried across the room. Despite the condition of her stomach and nerves, Julia felt a curl of heat in her abdomen. She’d never expected to be in a bedroom with Raoul Oman again, and it was harder to ignore the memories in such a private setting.