Crowned For The Sheikh's Baby: Crowned for the Sheikh's Baby

‘A dustpan and what?’ he echoed incredulously.

She realised he didn’t have a clue what she was talking about and was wondering how to explain what it was—perhaps by some elaborate form of charade—when a waiter came over and started berating the waitress in a torrent of furious French.

‘Come,’ said Kulal firmly, pulling her to her feet. ‘I think you’ve done quite enough. Let them sort it out among themselves. Unless you’re planning to put on an apron and take over her job for the rest of the evening? Do you ever stop working, Hannah?’

In the darkness, Hannah blushed as she registered his sardonic tone. ‘I couldn’t just leave the poor girl to struggle by herself—and nobody else was bothering to help, were they?’

‘Not everybody here has your skill-set,’ he said drily.

She realised that his hand was at her elbow and he was leading her away from the curious eyes of the onlookers, towards the shadowed lawns which stretched out behind the swimming pool. It was peaceful here. And deserted, too. She could still hear the music, but it was just her and Kulal—who had a look on his face which was mid-way between irritation and amusement.

‘Are you enjoying the party?’ he questioned.

‘It was very kind of you to bring me.’

‘That wasn’t what I asked, Hannah.’

Awkwardly, she shrugged. ‘I’m glad I came.’

‘Oh?’

She hesitated, but something in the piercing gleam of his black eyes made her answer his question truthfully. ‘It made me realise that high-society parties aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.’

‘And why might that be?’

She hesitated only for a second. ‘Well, nobody really talks about anything very much, do they? All the men seemed so competitive and most of the women were all over you like a rash, which made me think that bringing me here wasn’t as effective as you’d hoped. Or maybe I’m cramping your style.’ She looked at him questioningly. ‘In which case, I could easily make myself scarce until you’re ready to go, if that’s what you want.’

Kulal felt a tug of admiration. He’d heard people around him exclaiming in horror when the little chambermaid had been crouching down, careless of the way her costly dress had been rucked up around her bare thighs, yet he had admired the way she had leapt to the defence of the hapless waitress. And now, instead of plying him with saccharine words of gratitude, she was echoing his very own sentiments about these kinds of occasions.

His eyes narrowed. People rarely told him what he needed to hear—only what they thought he wanted to hear, and the two were rarely the same. And suddenly the desire to feel her in his arms was overwhelming. Too overwhelming to resist—and why should he? What harm would it do? ‘Dance with me instead,’ he said.

Hannah blinked at him. ‘What, here?’

‘Right here.’

Perhaps if he’d insisted on taking her to the small dance floor in front of the band, where they would have been visible to the other partygoers, Hannah might have refused. But he didn’t. He just pulled her into his arms as if he danced on moonlit lawns every night of the week and every bit of apprehension drained from her body. Because what woman would have objected to being held by the Sheikh like this? Hadn’t this been one of the forbidden fantasies she’d tried not to have while she’d been working for him? Only she was discovering that sometimes reality exceeded the fantasy—exceeded it in a way which was outside her understanding.

Suddenly, the dance seemed irrelevant to what was happening inside her body. Her nipples had become rock-hard and she wondered if he could feel them pushing insistently against his dress shirt. And now there was a distracting ache, low in her belly, and she knew she needed to stop this before she did something she regretted—like whispering her lips along the darkened edge of his jaw and begging him to kiss her. Her cheeks were burning as she pulled away from him and she met the hectic glitter of his dark gaze.

‘I think I’d better go back now,’ she said huskily. ‘To the hotel, I mean.’

‘Oh?’ On the shadowed lawn, he raised a laconic eyebrow. ‘Why?’

You know why. Because you’re making me want things I have no right to want. Because I’m a virgin and you’re a man of the world and I’ve spent my whole life being cautious.

‘I’m tired,’ she said.

He must have known it was an excuse, but he didn’t query it. Maybe he realised that it was the right thing to do. Or the only thing to do. There was a brief silence before he nodded. ‘Okay. I could use an early night myself. Let’s go.’

And wasn’t human nature unpredictable? Because as soon as Kulal agreed to her request, Hannah began to regret her decision. Couldn’t she have danced with him a bit longer? Enjoyed what was happening without making such a big deal of it and bringing the evening to such an abrupt end?

The waiting helicopter whisked them back through the starry skies and her heart was racing as they crept through the hotel corridors. But they managed to slip into Kulal’s private elevator and make it back to the penthouse suite without being seen. The usual inscrutable bodyguards lined the corridor but Hannah had become so used to seeing them that she barely gave them a second glance. She came to a halt outside the door to her room and stared up into Kulal’s carved features, wondering if she ought to offer to turn down his bed for him before she retired for the night. Until she drew herself up short. Was she crazy? Was she planning to tiptoe into his vast bedroom and leave a chocolate on the pillowcase?

‘Thank you very much for the evening, Your Royal Highness,’ she said formally as she pushed the door open. ‘I’ll put the dress, shoes and necklace into a bag and drop it off first thing and now I’ll say goodnight.’

The Sheikh didn’t appear to be listening; he was too busy looking over her shoulder into her room, his black eyes thoughtful. ‘It’s very small,’ he observed, his gaze skating over the narrow bed and functional furniture.

‘Of course it’s small,’ she said defensively. ‘I’m staff, remember?’

But Kulal wasn’t really thinking about her status right then. He wasn’t really thinking about anything other than the frustration which was heating his blood and refusing to be cooled by reason. He had been very turned on during that tantalisingly brief dance and, despite all his best intentions, had been contemplating brushing his fingertips over her luscious breasts when she’d pulled away and told him she wanted to go home. He remembered feeling startled because that had never happened before—not unless it was with the expectation that they would quickly adjourn to the nearest bedroom. But not with this little chambermaid. She was primly saying goodnight to him as though that was exactly what she wanted, even though the darkening of her aquamarine eyes left him in no doubt that their desire was mutual.

If he was being sensible, he would turn away. Go to his room and kill off his ardour with an icy shower. And maybe, instead of flying straight to Zahristan tomorrow, he could take a detour via Sweden—call in on that delicious blonde actress he’d never got around to bedding a few years back. Hadn’t she sent him a text the other day, disingenuously saying she was sorry to hear about his recent relationship break-up? He thought what else she had written as a postscript, making it graphically clear she wanted him as her lover.

But he didn’t want that woman with her bony hips which would grind into a man’s flesh like weapons. He wanted softness and voluptuousness. Lush breasts he could bury his head in and a trembling mouth he could plunder to his heart’s content. For the first time in his life, he wanted someone who was outside his realm of experience—was it novelty value which made him hunger for the little chambermaid so much?

He pulled Hannah into his arms and saw her eyes widen as he began to run his fingertip down her spine.

‘Kulal?’ she whispered.

‘Yes?’ he whispered back, lowering his head so that their mouths were centimetres apart. He was close enough to kiss her, but he paused long enough to allow her to shake her head. To give her a second opportunity to pull away from him. Because that was the right thing to do, even if every atom in his hungry body rebelled against such an idea.

But she didn’t pull away. Her lips parted and as lust fired in his belly, he knew he wasn’t going to take her back to his own bedroom. That he had no desire to walk past the line of bodyguards stationed there, even though they had witnessed countless transgressions such as this in the past. And maybe it was better this way. Less intimidating for her—and certainly more novel for him. He pulled her a little closer and felt his erection grow even harder.

‘Wh-what are you doing, Kulal?’ she questioned breathlessly.

It occurred to him that women were rarely original at moments like this. What did she think he was doing—writing a research paper on solar energy? He allowed his lips to drift over the silky texture of her neck, his words muffled by the lazy indulgence of that first, slow kiss. ‘I think we both know the answer to that question. I’m going to make love to you, that’s if you want me to—which I think you do.’

Hannah swallowed, trying to fight the feelings which were fluttering inside her. She should tell him to stop before this went any further. Before he started to touch her trembling breasts, which were aching to be touched. But she couldn’t. She just couldn’t. How could she turn her back on something which felt so wonderful? The most wonderful thing she’d ever experienced. She hadn’t realised that being in a man’s arms could make you feel like this—as if you could leap up into the air and just fly. She made a helpless little sound as his mouth brushed along her jaw and her eyelids flickered to a close. Was that his tongue she could feel, trailing an erotic and moist little path over her skin? She shivered as he did it again. Yes, it was.

She wasn’t sure if he was waiting for some kind of response, but she guessed she gave one when she suddenly folded her arms tightly around his shoulders.

‘I’m taking it that’s a yes?’ he said on a low growl.

‘It’s certainly not a no,’ she said, with a boldness she hadn’t known she possessed.

He laughed as he stepped inside and kicked the door shut behind them and then he was kissing her properly. Or maybe that should have been improperly. His hands were sliding over her silky dress as he murmured something in a language she didn’t understand. But maybe she didn’t need to. Maybe this was something which was meant to be enjoyed without commitment or expectation. And didn’t they say that the language of love was universal?

She should have felt shy as he slid her zip down and peeled the delicate dress from her body, but she didn’t. Not when it seemed that her voluptuous curves pleased him. The stylist who had transformed her had insisted on matching underwear and Hannah was glad now that she had agreed. Glad she was wearing a deceptively delicate bra which disguised the fact that it had needed to do a lot of elemental support work. Deftly, he unclipped it and as her breasts came spilling out, he gave another appreciative murmur before locking his hot lips around one thrusting nipple. Hannah gasped—she couldn’t help it. She felt as if she’d taken a one-way trip to heaven. As if she’d found something she hadn’t believed existed. And suddenly she wanted to touch him. To feel the Sheikh’s skin beneath her fingers.

With the nimbleness which had made her the finest chambermaid in the Granchester group, she slid free the mother-of-pearl buttons to liberate his powerful chest, her hands running greedily over the hard muscle which sheathed the silken skin. Was that what made him groan like that? What made him pick her up as if she were composed of nothing heavier than feathers, before carrying her towards the tiny single bed and depositing her on the mattress?

And still she didn’t feel shy—not even as he removed the clothes from his body, his eyes not leaving her face. Nor when he was completely naked and leaning over to slither her panties all the way down her thighs and she felt cool air wash over her naked skin. There was no time to feel anything—other than a joyful recognition of the greedy hunger which was spiralling up inside her, so that when Kulal lay down on top of her—because the bed wasn’t really big enough for any other kind of combination—all Hannah could do was to give a shuddering little moan of relief.

‘You like that?’ he said, a smile playing around the edges of his lips as he gazed down at her, his hand between her thighs.

Was he referring to the fact that she could feel his blunt hardness pushing unashamedly against her belly? Or was it one of those questions which didn’t really require an answer—not when he was now discovering the molten heat between her legs with a finger which was making her writhe with pleasure?

‘This is crazy!’ Hannah gasped. ‘I can’t—’

‘Oh, yes, you can,’ he said, his tongue snaking over her breasts until her nipples felt as if they were going to explode.

And who was she to contradict him, when their bodies seemed to fit together as if they had been made for each other? When she was so hungry for him that she even managed to giggle as he clumsily tore open what was obviously protection and heard him give a muffled curse. She didn’t stop to think, or to question why he just happened to be carrying a condom around with him because for the first time in her life, Hannah hadn’t just stepped outside her comfort zone—she’d taken a great flying leap into unknown territory.

And she loved it.

She loved everything about it. Kissing him and touching him. Running her fingers through the tousled splendour of his thick black hair. Skating her palms over the honed planes of his spectacular body until he bit out that he couldn’t take much more. Suddenly, she wasn’t humble Hannah Wilson any more—but a woman who seemed to be able to drive this hawk-faced man wild with desire. Her initial shyness had been melted away by their rapidly growing intimacy, and suddenly Hannah realised he was pushing her thighs open to enter her.

The next few seconds were a bit of a blur. There was a little bit of pain—though not very much. And there was undeniable surprise on the face of the Sheikh as he stilled, mid-thrust. But then their bodies seemed to take over and everything else got forgotten when he started moving again until she was gasping out words she hadn’t realised she knew. She heard herself making broken little pleas as she hovered on the edge of something which seemed tantalisingly out of reach.

But at last she found it. And it wasn’t just what she had thought it might be—it was more. So much more. She gave a disbelieving cry, and as she began to convulse around the Sheikh’s thrusting hardness, he gave a low and exultant shout of his own. And as Hannah felt his big body quivering with pleasure, she found herself thinking that she never wanted this night to end.

CHAPTER FOUR

‘SO WHEN WERE you planning to tell me?’

Swallowing down the nausea which was rising in her throat, Hannah looked at her little sister, trying not to react to the accusing stare which had accompanied her accusing words. Trying to convince herself that Tamsyn couldn’t possibly know—not when she’d only just found out herself.

‘Tell you what?’ she questioned weakly.

‘About your pregnancy, of course,’ hissed Tamsyn. ‘Or were you planning to keep it a great big secret until you were just about to pop?’

Hannah swallowed again, only this time the saltiness in her throat felt suspiciously like the taste of tears—and she’d convinced herself she wasn’t going to cry. She wasn’t, she thought fiercely. Because tears wouldn’t solve anything. She’d learnt that the hard way.

‘How did you know?’ she whispered.

‘Hello? Are you serious?’ Tamsyn filled up the kettle, not appearing to notice that she was splashing water all over Hannah’s carefully polished tiles. ‘It must be obvious to everyone.’

‘Nobody at the Granchester knows,’ said Hannah quickly.

‘Really? Well, maybe the other staff don’t have eyes in their heads or maybe I just know you better than anyone, but it’s as obvious to me as the nose on your face. Look at you, Hannah—your breasts are enormous and your complexion looks green...’

‘Thanks,’ said Hannah tonelessly.

‘I can’t believe it. You, of all people.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

Tamsyn shrugged. ‘You’re the one who was always so good. Who never put a foot wrong.’

Hannah didn’t answer, just stared up into her sister’s bewildered face. It was true. She’d been the model child. The peacemaker. The quiet one who had learnt that saying as little as possible and pretending the bad stuff wasn’t happening was the best way for things to get back to normal. Whatever normal was. But this was one situation where pretending it wasn’t happening wasn’t going to work.

‘So who’s the daddy, Hannah?’ continued Tamsyn. ‘I didn’t even realise you were in a relationship.’

Because she wasn’t in a relationship, that was why. Hannah leaned back in the armchair and closed her eyes, not wanting to betray her fear, knowing that sooner or later she was going to have to come clean. To say the words out loud. Because words would make it real. They would confirm what up until now had just been a nagging fear.

She was pregnant.

She was carrying the desert King’s child beneath her thundering heart.

Her mind took her back to that crazy night when Kulal had laid her down on that narrow single bed, his black eyes full of intent as he had run a careless thumb over her thrusting nipple. What had happened next had seemed inevitable—but that wasn’t really true. She could have stopped him. He’d given her every opportunity to do so, but she had just carried on regardless. She had broken every rule in the book—and she wasn’t just thinking about the Granchester’s strict policy of not fraternising with guests. Hadn’t she clung onto her virginity as if it was something very precious? Hadn’t it been a big deal for her, having seen what the fallout from casual sex could be? While most women her age seemed content to be free with their bodies, Hannah had been the opposite—as prim as a woman from a different age.

And she had surrendered all that innocence to a man who had simply taken it as his due! Who afterwards had looked at the ceiling with a reflective look on his hawk-like features.

‘I’ve never done it in such a narrow bed before,’ he had observed thoughtfully, his fingers sliding between her thighs and easing them apart. ‘I think it adds a certain something.’

But even that arrogant boast hadn’t been enough to kill her hunger for him. Instead, she had just turned to him with silent invitation in her eyes and he’d done it to her all over again. And again. She remembered the intensity of feelings which had seemed to explode inside her, like a bomb which been waiting a long time to be detonated. Was that why she had responded like someone she didn’t really know—showing a side of herself she hadn’t realised existed? Like a wildcat, she thought guiltily. Like...

She remembered what he’d said, just before the first time.

‘You want this, Hannah?’

‘Yes.’

‘And so do I. But it’s one night only—do you understand? Not just because I am a king and you a chambermaid, and our positions in life are so incompatible. The truth is that I’ve just come out of a relationship and I’m not looking for another one. If you want more than that, I cannot give it to you and I’ll walk out of this room right now and leave you alone, no matter how hard I might find it.’

But Hannah had been powerless to resist him. How could she have resisted him when just looking into those gleaming black eyes had made her want to melt?

‘One night is fine with me,’ she had whispered back.

‘So who’s the daddy?’ repeated Tamsyn, cutting impatiently into Hannah’s uncomfortable thoughts.

And that was when Hannah realised that the tables were turned for the first time in their lives. That Tamsyn, for all her wildness, had never presented with a problem as big as this. A problem which seemed insurmountable. Which had made her thoughts spin with increasing desperation, ever since she’d first seen that blue line on the pregnancy test.

‘You won’t be able to keep it a secret for ever, you know.’ Tamsyn poured boiling water into the teapot before looking up. ‘Is it that bloke who works in the accounts department—the one you got off with at the Christmas party?’

Hannah shuddered. No way. That particular encounter had ended humiliatingly when he’d shoved his hand up her jumper and she’d jumped away and told him she didn’t want sex in the stationery cupboard, and he had sneered and told her she was fat and frigid.

She certainly hadn’t jumped away in horror when Kulal had touched her, had she?

But she knew Tamsyn was right. She couldn’t keep it a secret. She had no right to do that. And wasn’t the truth of it that if she disregarded her thoughtless and stupid behaviour... She swallowed again. If she thought about the reality rather than the repercussions—then she couldn’t deny the unexpected sense of excitement which was bubbling away inside her. She was going to have a baby and she would love and protect that baby with all her heart, just as she’d done for her little sister—no matter what obstacles lay ahead.

‘His name is Kulal.’ For the first time since she’d lain in his arms she said his name out loud and even as she uttered it, she thought how bizarre it was that her very first lover should have been the influential desert King.

‘Nice name,’ said Tamsyn approvingly. ‘What’s he like?’

And here it was—in all its unvarnished and frankly unbelievable truth.

‘He’s...well, he’s very powerful and dynamic.’

‘Really?’

She heard the doubt in Tamsyn’s voice which she couldn’t quite disguise and, for the first time in her life, Hannah wasn’t sure how to respond. Because she had always been the one who came armed with words of wisdom. Words to soothe and comfort. There hadn’t been a single bad situation during their growing up which she hadn’t felt equipped to deal with.

Until now.

Had she been guilty of thinking she was so clever—so invulnerable—that she would never find herself in a situation like this? Well, here was reality—about to teach her the hardest lesson of all.

‘He’s a sheikh,’ she said.

Tamsyn screwed up her face. ‘What are you talking about?’

Hannah swallowed. ‘The father of my baby. He’s a...’ She cleared her throat because not only did it sound unbelievable—it also sounded slightly grandiose. ‘A desert king,’ she finished quietly.

She could see that Tamsyn was trying not to laugh, but then the gravity of the situation must have hit her and the smile was wiped from her sister’s wide mouth. ‘This is no joking matter,’ she said crossly.

‘I’m not joking—he is a desert king.’

‘Hannah.’ Tamsyn glared. ‘You’re not experienced. You don’t realise what men are like. They say all kinds of things when they’re trying to get a woman to—’

‘He is!’ declared Hannah, with an uncharacteristic burst of fervour because usually, she trod carefully where Tamsyn was concerned. ‘He’s called Sheikh Kulal Al Diya and he’s the King of Zahristan.’

‘Good...grief.’ There was a pause and then, the tea-making forgotten, Tamsyn slumped against the sink, her eyes wide. ‘Not...not the one in the papers who was described as—’

‘One of the world’s most eligible bachelors?’ supplied Hannah. ‘Yes, that’s him.’

‘But...how? I mean, how?’

The question was well-meant, but it hurt. Because Tamsyn’s incredulity said a lot. It said: how could someone like Kulal have possibly become involved with a woman like her? Yet Hannah was in no position to criticise her sister’s disbelief, when she felt pretty much that way herself.