Julianna Morris - Last Chance For Baby

“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.