Sandra Marton - Desert Hearts

“Two thank-yous—only one with real validity. Sit down, please. Is that better?”

What now? If she refused, would he let go of her, or would he force her to take the seat next to his? Finding out might not be worth what it would cost in terms of losing face over such a stupid game.

Rachel shrugged and slipped into the seat nearest to him.

“Good,” he said, and let go of her wrist. “Moira’s bringing us coffee. And something to eat.”

“She’s bringing me coffee at my seat. And I’m not hungry.”

“Don’t be foolish, Rachel. Of course you’re hungry. Besides, in my country, refusing to break bread with someone is a discourtesy.”

“We’re not in your country.”

“But we are.” The flight attendant came down the aisle, pushing a small wheeled cart laden with trays of fruit, cheese and small sandwiches as well as a silver coffee service.

To her horror, Rachel’s belly growled. Karim grinned.

“So much for not being hungry.” He waved the attendant away, poured two cups of coffee, then picked up a plate and filled it with tiny sandwiches and fruit. “And so much for not being in my country.” He looked at her as he handed her the plate, silverware and an enormous linen napkin. “I am a prince.”

“So you’ve made clear.”

“I am my country’s diplomat.”

“How nice for you,” Rachel said sweetly.

“It means that wherever I live is a part of Alcantar.” Karim sipped his coffee. “My home in New York. My weekend place in Connecticut.” He paused. “This aircraft. When you are in those locations you are subject to the laws of my people. Do you understand?”

“I’m an American citizen. You can’t simply—”

“This is not subject to debate. It is fact. When you are on what you Americans would call my turf, the laws of Alcantar apply.”

Rachel’s hand shook. Carefully, she put down the coffee cup.

“Stop talking in circles,” she said flatly. “And stop telling me you can do whatever you wish about Ethan. I’m a citizen. So is he. End of story.”

“Perhaps you’d let me finish speaking before you start lecturing me.” Karim waited. Then he cleared his throat. “I have been thinking …”

“Am I supposed to be impressed?”

He wanted to laugh. So determined to show no weakness—but he’d noticed how her hand had trembled. She was, indeed, an interesting woman. Tough and tender at the same time. Loving, at least to the child.

Would she be like that in bed?

Dammit, he had to stop his thoughts from wandering.

“We are adults,” he said calmly. “And we both want what is best for the boy.”

“Ethan, you mean.”

“Yes. We want the right thing for him. There’s no reason we should be enemies.”

“And what is it you see as the right thing, Your Highness?”

“Please. Call me Karim.”

What kind of game was this?

Rachel sipped her coffee, hid her confusion in the cup. This was a new approach but she wasn’t buying it, not for a second.

Maybe he’d spent the flight reviewing the situation and he’d decided it would be simpler to have her cooperation than to fight for it.

And maybe it took one liar to see through the falsehoods told by another, because it was painfully obvious that they didn’t want the same thing for Ethan at all.

She wanted her baby to be raised with love and warmth.

He wanted him to be raised as Rami’s son. And just look at how well that had turned out for Rami, she thought coldly.

“I’m glad we agree on the importance of Ethan’s welfare,” she said politely. “But—”

“Why did my brother abandon you?”

The question took her by surprise.

“You know, I really don’t want to talk about—”

“Why not? I should think you’d have a lot to say about a man who was your lover, who made a child with you and then left you both.”

“That’s in the past. And—”

“Did he not make any financial arrangements for you and the baby?”

Rachel put down her cup.

“I appreciate your concern, Your Highness, but as I said, that’s in the past.”

“And this is the future with which my brother should have been concerned. He made no provisions for you or the boy, did he?”

She stared at him. His face was taut with anger. At Rami, she realized, not at her.

It made her feel guilty about the lies she’d told him, the one enormous lie, and wasn’t that ridiculous?

“Did he walk out? Did he at least tell you he was leaving?”

Rachel shook her head.

“No,” she said softly. That, at least, was true.

There was a silence.

“But he cared for you,” Karim finally said.

Rachel didn’t answer. A couple of seconds went by. Then he cleared his throat.

“I know it won’t change things but you should know that he was not always so—so uncaring. Our childhoods were—difficult. The things we experienced changed him.”

“And they didn’t change you?”

“I am sure they did, but we chose different ways of dealing with those experiences.” A shrug of those wide, masculine shoulders. “Who can explain why one sibling takes one approach to life and the other—”

“No one can explain it,” Rachel heard herself say.

“That’s kind of you, but—”

“It isn’t kind at all. It’s just a fact. I have—I have a sister. And—and I have better memories of her when we were little than I do of the years after.”

Karim nodded. “She is not like you,” he said quietly.

“No. We’ve always been very different.”

“And she would not fight me to keep her child, as you surely will, even though I will raise him as a prince.”

“No,” Rachel said quickly, “I don’t care that he’s a prince. He’s—he’s—”

She clamped her lips together, but it was too late.

Karim’s eyes were dark and unreadable, but there was a harshness in his voice that hadn’t been there a moment ago.

“It is too late to deny it, Rachel. The boy is Rami’s.”

She stared at him. That was what this had been about. It hadn’t been a peace offering. It had been a clever way of getting her to confess that Rami had fathered her baby.

What a fool she’d been to think this man might truly have a heart, or to forget that he was the enemy.

Rachel put her cup and plate on the cart.

“You keep missing the one thing that matters,” she said coldly. “Ethan is mine.”

“He is a prince.”

“He is a little boy. And he has a name.”

“What has that to do with anything?”

“You never use his name. You speak of him as if he were a—a thing. A commodity.”

Karim dumped his plate on the cart and shoved the cart away.

“This is ridiculous! Will it make you happy if I call him by the name my brother chose for him? Fine. I’ll do that. I’ll call him—”

Rachel shot to her feet.

“Your brother didn’t name Ethan. I did.”

Karim rose, too. If only he didn’t tower over her. She hated having to look up at him, to give him that seeming authority over her.

“In that case,” Karim said stiffly, “I apologize for him yet again. Apparently, he ignored all his responsibilities.”

“Dammit, stop apologizing for him!”

“It is my duty. I understand that he hurt you, but—”

“Hurt me?” Rachel slapped her hands on her hips. “I hated your brother!”

“And yet,” Karim said coldly, “you slept with him.”

Her cheeks heated.

“You let him put a child in your womb.”

She turned away from him and started up the aisle. Karim went after her, caught her by the shoulder and swung her toward him.

“What kind of woman are you? You hated him. But you slept with him. You let him give you a child.”