Saved by the Sheikh! / Million-Dollar Marriage Merger: Saved by the Sheikh! / Million-Dollar Marriage Merger. Charlene Sands
she would keep her relationship with Rafiq cordial. Unemotional. Her daughter deserved the right to know her father. Nor could she allow herself to indulge in wild notions that he might kidnap her child, hide her away.
He was a businessman. He’d told her he’d been educated in England and the United States. He headed a large bank. Even it if was a position he’d gotten through nepotism, neither he—nor his royal family—could afford the kind of international outcry that would come from taking her baby from her. He was a single man—or at least she hoped he was—what would he do with a baby?
The silence was oppressive. Fifteen minutes later the Mercedes came to a smooth stop, and the rear doors opened. Rafiq’s hand closed around her elbow—to escort her or ensure she didn’t escape? Tiffany wasn’t sure. As he hurried her up a flight of stairs, she caught a glimpse of two guards in red berets standing in front of stone pillars that flanked a vast wooden front door. Then the door swung inward and they were inside a vaulted entrance hall.
She gazed around, wide-eyed. Despite the mansions she’d seen, this dwelling took luxury to new heights. “Where are we?”
“This is my home.”
A hasty glance revealed magnificent dark wooden floors covered in Persian rugs, original art hanging on deep blue walls. Refusing to be impressed, Tiffany focused her attention on Rafiq. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”
His lips quirked, and something devilish gleamed in his eyes. “Talk? Our best communication is done in other ways. I thought that must be why you are here.”
Damn him for the reminder.
Tiffany compressed her lips. “I need to talk to you.”
“Whenever we talk, it seems to cost me money.” The humor had vanished, and he gave her a brooding look.
His words only underscored what she already knew: he thought her the worst kind of woman. What would he say when he discovered she was pregnant with his child? A frisson of alarm chilled her.
“I haven’t come all this way for money, Rafiq.”
“I’m very relieved to hear that.”
He strode down a hall hung with richly woven tapestries that held the patina of age. Tiffany resisted the urge to slow and inspect them.
“But for the moment I will reserve judgment,” he was saying. “I will be more convinced of that once I have heard what you have to say to me.”
He didn’t believe her. He thought this was about money.
“Hey, I sent you a check for what you gave me,” she protested. She hadn’t wanted to be in his debt.
“Sure you did.”
“I sent it last week. Maybe it’s still in the mail.” She’d meant to send it earlier. Discovering she was pregnant had wiped all other thoughts out of her head. But now she was seriously starting to wish that she had called … not come all this way to give him the news about his impending fatherhood.
Yet it had seemed the right thing to do. She’d wanted to break the news in person, not over the phone separated by thousands of miles, unable to register the nuances of his expression. And certainly not by an e-mail that might go astray.
This was too important. Her child’s whole life, her baby’s relationship with her father, would be determined by the course of this conversation.
And she wasn’t about to let Rafiq Al Dhahara cause her to regret the decision she’d made to come here to tell him.
Pushing open a door, he gestured for her to precede him. Tiffany entered a book-lined room that was clearly a man’s domain. His domain. Before her nerve could give out, she drew a deep breath and spun to face him.
“I’m pregnant,” she announced.
Rafiq went very still, and his eyes narrowed to dark cracks that revealed nothing.
All at once the dangerous man she’d seen glimpses of in Hong Kong, the man she’d known lurked under the polite, charming veneer, surfaced.
“We used a condom,” he said, softly.
She spread her hands helplessly. “It must’ve been faulty.”
“Did you know it was faulty?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Did you tamper with it?”
“How?” Outrage filled the question. “It was sealed!”
“Nothing a pinprick couldn’t have taken care of.”
“You’re sick.”
His mouth tightened. “Be careful how you talk to me.”
Tiffany’s front teeth worried at her bottom lip. His gaze flickered to her mouth, before returning to clash with hers. “How much do you want?”
“What?”
She stared at him, not sure she’d heard right. His eyes were fixed on her, his mouth tight. No sign of softness in the features that were so difficult to read. He’d pay money so that he’d never have to see his child again?
What kind of man did that?
Tiffany turned away, defeated. At least she would always carry the knowledge in her heart that she’d tried. And if her daughter one day wanted to know who her father was, she’d tell her. Rafiq might be a sheikh. He might be desert royalty. But he would be the loser … he’d have forfeited the chance to know his child.
But he’d been given the choice.
“I’ve been a fool.”
Tiffany spun back and focused on him. He’d positioned himself behind an antique desk. One hand was raking through his hair. Straight and dark, it shone like silk under the overhead lights.
Unable to bear to look at him, she closed her eyes.
He’d been a fool? What did that make her?
“And I have absolutely no excuse. I even know how the scam works. Start with small amounts, get the idiot hooked and then, when he can’t back out, increase the amount.”
Her mouth fell open as she absorbed what he was saying. “You honestly think I’d travel here to blackmail you?” Her hand closed protectively over her belly. “That I’d blackmail the father of my child?”
From beyond the barrier of the desk, his glance fell to her still-flat stomach, and then lifted to meet her eyes. Black. Implacable. Furious. Tiffany felt the searing heat of his contempt. “Enough. Don’t expect me to believe there is a child.”
Rafiq thought—
She shook her head to clear it. “You really do think I came all this way to blackmail you.”
He arched a brow. “Didn’t you?”
“No!”
“Previous experience makes that impossible for me to believe.”
What was the point of arguing that she hadn’t wanted to blackmail him in the past, either? Tiffany placed her fingertips to her pounding temples. God, why had she allowed her conviction that she was doing the right thing to persuade her to come? He didn’t care about the child. All he cared about was protecting himself.
There was nothing here for her daughter … nothing worth fighting for.
She started to back away.
“Where are you going?”
“To my hotel. I’m pregnant. It was a long flight. I’m tired. My feet ache. I need a shower and a sleep.” She listed the reasons in a flat, dead tone.
He was around the desk before she could move and caught up to her with two long strides. Planting himself in front of her, he folded his arms