Expecting the Sheikh's Baby

 Imported full-bodied espresso

With his dark eyes, swarthy skin and sensuous mouth, Ashraf ibn-Saalem, Prince of Zhamyr, was one gorgeous sheikh. Rich, smart, worldly, sexy…and virile. Just the man to father Karen Rawlins’s baby and give her child a heritage.

 Chocolate Kisses

To seal their bargain, Ash insisted on a kiss. A rock-my-world kiss that left Karen’s lips swollen, hot and wet. She knew his insistence on making a baby the conventional way would certainly be fun…but would it be wise?

 Hot quick bread with vanilla ice cream

Despite a rushed wedding, their baby-making was anything but. The sheikh’s slow exploration of her body was sweet torture. His hands and tongue ignited a trail of heat over her sensitive skin that left her parched as a desert and thirsty for more. But that wasn’t part of the plan….

Buon appetito!

Dear Reader,

Welcome to another stellar month of stories from Silhouette Desire. We kick things off with our DYNASTIES: THE BARONES series as Kristi Gold brings us Expecting the Sheikh’s Baby in which—yes, you guessed it!—a certain long-lost Barone cousin finds herself expecting a very special delivery.

Also this month: The fabulous Peggy Moreland launches a brand-new series with THE TANNERS OF TEXAS, about Five Brothers and a Baby, which will give you the giddy-up you’ve been craving. The wonderful Brenda Jackson is back with another story about her Westmoreland family. A Little Dare is full of many big surprises…including a wonderful secret-child story line. And Sleeping with the Boss by Maureen Child will have you on the edge of your seat—or boardroom table, whatever the case may be.

KING OF HEARTS, a new miniseries by Katherine Garbera, launches with In Bed with Beauty. The series focuses on an angel with some crooked wings who must do a lot of matchmaking in order to secure his entrance through the pearly gates. And Laura Wright is back with Ruling Passions, a very sensual royal-themed tale.

So, get ready for some scintillating storytelling as you settle in for six wonderful novels. And next month, watch for Diana Palmer’s Man in Control.

More passion to you!

Melissa Jeglinski

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

Expecting the Sheikh’s Baby

Kristi Gold

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Acknowledgments

Special thanks to former Bostonite and honorary Texan

Sandy Blair for her incredible information and wonderful insight.

KRISTI GOLD

has always believed that love has remarkable healing powers and feels very fortunate to be able to weave stories of romance and commitment. As a bestselling author and a Romance Writers of America RITA® Award finalist, she’s learned that although accolades are wonderful, the most cherished rewards come from the most unexpected places, namely from personal stories shared by readers. Kristi resides on a ranch in Central Texas with her husband and three children, along with various and sundry livestock. She loves to hear from readers and can be contacted at [e-mail] or P.O. Box 11292, Robinson, TX 76716.

Meet the Barones of Boston—

an elite clan caught in a web of danger,

deceit…and desire!

Who’s Who in

EXPECTING THE SHEIKH’S BABY

Ashraf ibn-Saalem—After a painful betrayal, this Arabian sheikh has put his heart on ice, but not his libido. His shrewd, dark eyes appreciate women, but his hardened heart vows never to love again. But there is one thing he wants—a child.

Karen Rawlins—Some say this long-lost Barone cousin is unbendable, stubborn, unyielding. Karen says she’s her own woman. At thirty-one, she hears her biological clock ticking and sees a child of her own in her nightly dreams. But she’d just as soon subtract the husband from the baby-making equation.

Maria Barone—More than anyone, she knows that no matter what you want, you can’t run away from what fate has in store….

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Prologue

The man could be her father, but that was impossible.

Her father was dead.

Karen Rawlins touched her trembling fingertips to the photograph of Paul Barone included in the Boston newspaper along with a story covering the Barone family’s latest reunion. The article also reported the tale of the unsolved mystery from years ago surrounding the abduction of Paul’s twin brother, Luke, serving as confirmation of what Karen had recently learned from the yellowed pages of her grandmother’s diary—her loving grandparents had lived a lie for over half a century.

Karen sat in the only home she had known, deep in the heart of Montana, while too many unanswered questions haunted her as keenly as her memories. Had her father known about the journal Karen had found among her grandmother’s belongings? Had he learned of the deception before his untimely death? Had he known that he had been born to a wealthy Massachusetts family only to be kidnapped by the woman he had always considered his mother, and that his name was not Timothy Rawlins but Luke Barone?

Karen tossed the newspaper aside knowing she would never have all the answers she craved. Everyone who could fill in the blanks was gone. Her grandparents had died only months apart two years before in peaceful slumber, and her parents had been killed in a devastating car crash a year ago.

Dealing with the overwhelming loss and this new insight into her family tree might have been easier if Karen hadn’t ended her engagement to Carl. But that had been a blessing. She preferred to live her life alone as long as she could live her life as she wanted. That had not been Carl’s intent. Carl’s intent had involved control. He’d wanted a wife who would hang her life on his whims, not a woman with dreams and opinions and career goals. She refused to mourn that ending.

Karen wrapped her hands around a mug of coffee, trying to absorb some warmth, though the July weather outside was warm and wonderful. Still she felt chilled to the marrow, even in the comfortable kitchen that smelled of cinnamon and radiated kindness, an ideal depiction of home and hearth. She also felt utterly alone.

Needless to say, it had not been a banner year for Karen Rawlins. It then occurred to her that she had no reason to stay in Silver Valley. The single-stoplight town had nothing to offer but bittersweet recollections and the realization that much of what she’d believed about her family, her legacy, was false—except for the fact that her parents and grandparents had loved her without reservation.

Perhaps Boston held more opportunities. Exciting opportunities. A place to regroup and grow. Karen decided then and there to seek out the Barones, to tell Paul what details she knew about his missing brother with the hope that the family would welcome her with open arms and open minds. She would find a good job and maybe one day establish her own interior design business. She would make a good life for herself. A new life. And in order to fill the empty space in her soul, Karen would attempt to have a child, someone to love her without conditions.

No, it had not been a banner year for Karen Rawlins, but it could be—would be—from this point forward. She would simply have to make it happen, and she would achieve all of her goals without the interference of a man.

One

Oh, heck, not him again.

From behind the marble counter of the Barone family’s famed Baronessa Gelateria, Karen Rawlins knocked her elbow on the edge of the cash register and stifled a yelp that would surely drown out the rendition of “Santa Lucia” filtering from the overhead speakers. She also bit back a litany of mild curses directed at the lone man seated in the corner booth next to the windows. A man who stood out like a searchlight among the Barone family Italian ice-cream shop’s simple, traditional decor.

Karen prided herself on having a designer’s eye and this particular male was designed to perfection. His exotic good looks presented the perfect portrait of the consummate dark, mysterious stranger.

But Sheikh Ashraf Saalem was no stranger to Karen. She’d met him last month during the welcoming party given in her honor by the Barones. Yes, he had been somewhat charming, maybe even slightly charismatic—okay, more than slightly—but much too confident for Karen’s comfort. As far as she was concerned, overt confidence denoted control. She didn’t care for controlling men, even if they could give a woman the shakes with only a sultry look, and he’d given her plenty of those the last time she’d been in his company. She also hadn’t been able to forget what else he had given her that night.

A kiss.

An earth-tilting, knock-me-over, make-me-tremble kiss. A kiss she hadn’t been able to ignore.

But she had to ignore it, ignore him, especially now. Ignore his occasional glances, his eyes as dark as Baronessa’s popular espresso. Not an easy task even though he had exchanged his traditional Arabian clothing for professional corporate attire—a beige silk suit and a turtleneck pullover as black as his silky thick hair. He looked like any businessman taking a break from the fast-paced corporate world of finance, yet he still exuded an authoritative aura. But he wasn’t just any man, a fact that had become all too apparent from the moment Karen had met him—and kissed him.

After one more furtive glance, Karen went back to straightening the sundae bowls lined up beneath the counter. She had a job to do, a nice job working in the gelateria alongside her wonderful cousin, Maria. Almost a month ago, she’d been lovingly welcomed by her new family, had accepted the assistant manager position and in turn gained a whole slew of relatives as well as a nice apartment that had once belonged to her other cousin Gina. Now that her life was back on track, she certainly didn’t have the time or desire to be distracted by a man, even if he happened to be a charismatic prince.

As if her will had left the building without her, Karen stole another quick glance. How could she possibly overlook his presence since the shop was practically deserted? No surprise the place was empty considering the post-lunch hour and that the earlier September deluge had now ended. Those who had taken refuge from the elements had made their way back into the Boston streets to resume their midafternoon activities.

Everyone except the sheikh. He was the only patron aside from another couple sequestered in the opposing corner booth, holding hands and talking in whispers while their gelato turned to fruity soup. What a waste of good ice cream, Karen thought. What a display of ridiculous sentimentality.

Karen mentally scolded herself for her cynical attitude. Who could say this particular couple wouldn’t find forever happiness? Just because she had decided she wouldn’t drape her dreams on a life partner didn’t mean others couldn’t find that proverbial soul mate.

“I see you have a visitor.”

Karen’s gaze snapped from the love duo to Maria’s subtle smile and mischievous wide brown eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me he’d come in?” She honestly hadn’t meant to sound so irritable, but watching the young couple moon over each other had prompted Karen’s less-than-jovial mood. So had Ashraf ibn-Saalem’s surprise appearance.

“You were down in the basement when he arrived,” Maria said. “And I didn’t realize you would be so interested.”

“I’m not.” Karen slapped a rag across a counter that didn’t need cleaning, working it over with a vengeance. “As far as I’m concerned, he’s just another customer having his coffee.”

Maria moved to Karen’s side and sent a not-so-discreet glance in the sheikh’s direction. “My guess is he didn’t come in here to escape the rain or to have coffee or gelato.” She leaned closer to Karen and said in a whisper, “Considering the look he keeps giving you, I do believe he could be here for a different kind of dessert, if you know what I mean.”

Karen knew exactly what Maria had meant, and she wasn’t about to be the sheikh’s sweet, now or ever. Turning her back to the dining room, she leaned against the counter and shot a quick glance over her shoulder. “He’s not giving me any kind of look. He’s reading the newspaper.”

“He’s pretending to read the paper, but he’s much more intrigued by you.”

Karen pushed up the sleeves on her white blouse and checked her watch, more out of nervousness than real interest in the time, although she did have an impending appointment. A very important appointment. “Doesn’t he have a job?”

“Oh, yes. He’s very successful, or so Daniel tells me. Some sort of independent financial consultant. He travels all over the world.”

Daniel, another cousin, was the son of Karen’s father’s twin brother, Paul, and the reason why the sheikh had attended the welcome party. “That sounds fairly suspect to me.”

Maria propped her elbows on the counter and rested her cheeks on her palms. “Job or no job, he’s wealthy. And royalty.” She suddenly came to attention. “And he’s heading this way.”

Karen froze, as if adhered to the counter at her back by the icy apprehension traveling up and down her spine.

“May we help you, Sheikh Saalem?”

Staring straight ahead, Karen heard the creak of the counter stool yet still couldn’t force herself to turn around.

“It would help me greatly if you would call me Ash. In America, I prefer to dispose of the title, at least among friends. And I do consider the Barones to be my friends.”

“Of course,” Maria said. “Any friend of Daniel’s is certainly a friend of ours. Right, Karen?”

Karen flinched at the sudden jab of Maria’s elbow in her side. Realizing she had no room to run, she finally turned to face the sheikh. “Yes. Friends. Of course.”

As far as grins went, Karen would qualify Ash Saalem’s as awe-inspiring. Why did he have to be so annoyingly gorgeous?

“You’re looking well today, Ms. Rawlins,” he said in a voice as smooth and liquid as quicksilver.

He kept his eyes fixed on hers and Karen wanted to look away but decided to stand her ground. “Thank you.”

“Are you enjoying your work here, Karen?”

Karen couldn’t believe he had the audacity to call her by her first name. She couldn’t believe her pulse had the nerve to quicken over hearing him say it. Of course, he’d been bold enough to kiss her that night, so why not dispense with all formality? “As a matter of fact, I love working here. Very much.” She forced an overly sweet smile, yet her lips felt stiff with the effort. “Speaking of work, can I get you anything else?”

He leaned forward, bringing with him a trace of rich cologne and blatant self-assurance. “What do you have in mind?”

Oh, no you don’t. Karen was in no mood for playing the innuendo game. “Maybe some gelato. It’s very refreshing. Helps to cool one off.” Ice cream was the only thing she planned to offer him today, or any day for that matter.

“What if I asked for some of your time? Perhaps dinner once you are through with your duties?”

“I really don’t think—”

“Miss, I need some service over here.”

Karen glanced at the end of the counter where a middle-aged businessman sporting a cheap suit and an edgy expression waited impatiently. She visually searched the area for Maria, who had conveniently disappeared.

“Excuse me,” Karen said to the sheikh and headed to the customer. She took a pencil from the pocket of her apron along with the order pad. “What can I get for you, sir?”

The man’s expression was pickle-sour. “A cup of coffee.”

“Espresso, cappuccino or maybe—”

“Plain coffee, black, to go.”

“Certainly. I’ve just started a fresh pot to brewing.”

He released a gruff sigh. “I’m in a hurry.”

So was Karen. In a hurry to get out of there before she did something inane like actually agree to Ash’s offer of dinner. “It should only be a few more minutes.”

“You have yet to answer my question, Karen.”

Karen glanced at Ash then gave the grumpy guy her best smile. “Excuse me just a moment.” She sidestepped until she was again in front of the sheikh, feeling as if she were caught in a verbal volley. “I don’t have time for dinner. I have somewhere I have to be after work.”

“Somewhere important?”

More than he realized. “You could say that.”

“Then this is somewhere that I would not be welcome?”

Karen decided he would probably be more than welcome at the fertility clinic, at least to provide a donation. Who in their right mind would turn him down? Of course, she would. Not that she intended to reveal what she was about to do. “It’s an appointment. A doctor’s appointment.”

Concern called out from his dark eyes. “Are you ill?”

“Just a routine exam.” Not exactly a lie. “I’m fine.”

His frown dissolved into a stop-and-drop grin. “I would attest to that without the benefit of an examination, although I would not mind further investigation.”

“Is that coffee ready yet?” the sour man barked.

Karen welcomed the interruption on one level. On the other hand, she felt trapped between two persistent men intent on shredding her last nerve. She afforded the stranger a polite smile. “One more minute and the coffee should be done.”

He slapped his palm on the counter. “I don’t have another minute, so if you’ll quit talking to your boyfriend and get me my coffee, then I can get out of here. Some of us have jobs to do.”

Karen clenched her teeth and spoke through them. “I understand, sir, but the coffee’s not quite done yet. Could I get you a glass of water while you’re waiting?” Would you like to wear it? she wanted to say and would have except she’d been told the customer was always right. Even the fussy ones.

“I don’t want any damned water. I want my coffee.”

Ash had seemed unaffected by the jerk until that moment when a dangerous look came across his face. He took off his jacket, systematically laid it across the stool next to him and pushed up the sleeves of his shirt. Karen froze from fear that the sheikh was about to engage in fisticuffs with the irritable stranger. Instead, he walked around the counter, picked up a paper to-go cup, filled it with the last of the remaining lukewarm coffee from the previous pot, then turned and slid it in front of the man.

“This is in exchange for your absence,” he said in a low, menacing voice. “I realize there is no sign on the door indicating this establishment does not serve jackasses, but rest assured, that will be remedied after your departure.”

The man scowled. “You arrogant son of a—”

“My arrogance should not concern you. If you fail to leave the premises in thirty seconds, however, you should concern yourself with what I might do to encourage your departure.”

The man stormed out the door sans coffee, sending Karen and Ash an acid look through the window.

When Karen could finally speak, she turned and stood toe-to-toe with the prince. She would estimate him to be not more than six feet tall, but in the small space that separated them, he seemed as massive as the ancient oak in the backyard of her former Montana home. “Was that really necessary?”

“I refuse to tolerate insolence, particularly when a woman is the target of disrespect.”

Oh, good grief. “I really didn’t need to be rescued.”

His expression remained solemn. “My apologies. I tend to forget chivalry has lost its appeal in America.”

Karen felt somewhat remorseful since she realized he’d had honorable intentions. She also felt somewhat tense when he continued to survey her with his extreme dark eyes. The least she could do was thank him. “I appreciate your good intentions.”

His features softened into a look that could only be described as patently provocative. “You could show your gratitude by having dinner with me tonight.”

“I told you I don’t have the time.” She didn’t have the guts.

Maria suddenly appeared and eyed them both standing behind the counter, face-to-face. “Karen, did you hire the sheikh while I was downstairs?”

Karen reached under the counter and snatched up her car keys. “He was helping out with a rowdy customer.”

“How nice of you, Ash,” Maria said. “Wasn’t it nice of him, Karen?”

Karen’s stubborn gaze came to rest on Ashraf Saalem once more. Certain aspects of him were very nice. Nice and sexy. But she wouldn’t describe his eyes as nice. More like lethal in a most sensual sense.

She unhooked her gaze from the sheikh and addressed Maria. “Is Mimi here yet? I really need to go swoon.” Stupid, stupid mouth. “I mean I need to go soon. To my appointment.”

Maria grinned and flipped her hand toward the front door. “Go ahead. I can handle it until she gets here. We still have some slack time before the evening crush.”

Karen felt the pull of an inadvisable crush on an overbearing, arrogant, exotic prince. Stupid, stupid libido.

Keys in hand, she headed toward the door before Ash had another chance to knock her resistance out from under her.

“I will be in touch, Karen.”

Karen gripped the door handle, intending to exit, but halted at the sound of his enticing voice. She only hesitated for a moment before rushing to her car and speeding off before she was tempted to go back and accept his offer. Before she gave in to those magnetic eyes and that seriously sinful voice. Before she forgot that she had no desire to become involved with any man, especially a man who considered himself her protector.

Thank heavens she had managed a quick getaway.

Ashraf Saalem had no intention of letting Karen Rawlins get away. From the moment he’d laid eyes on her at the welcome soiree, from the instant he had spontaneously kissed her, he had wanted her. He still wanted her and he intended to have her, even if forced to practice the utmost in patience.

Ash was not known for his patience. He would never have gained his own fortune had it not been for persistence. He would have never left the security of his family’s business and come to America had he been willing to endure his father’s demands.

“Oh, darn.”

Maria Barone’s mild oath brought Ash’s attention to her. “A problem?”

She held up a black leather handbag. “Karen was in such a rush that she left her purse.”

Ash saw Karen’s carelessness as an opportunity to utilize a bit more strategy to convince her to see him again, this time alone. “I will be most happy to return it to her.”

“Now?”

“Yes. I would think she might need it since I assume it contains her driver’s license and any means she would have to pay for services.”

Maria looked hesitant, wary. “You have a point. But I’m not sure she’ll be too thrilled if I tell you where she’s going.”

“She mentioned a doctor’s appointment.”

“She did?”

Maria need not know that the revelation had come after some coercion on his part. “Do you know the whereabouts of the doctor’s office?”

A slight-of-frame, gray-haired woman breezed up to Maria and offered, “She asked me directions to Industrial Drive at Blakenship yesterday, the two hundred block, so I’m guessing that’s the location.”