Sheikh Protector. Dana Marton

filled her chest and squeezed her lungs. Aziz was gone. It seemed impossible. She had never known anyone as filled with life and wide-open to the world, as charming.

      He’d charmed a great many people; she had found that out when she ran a search on him on the Internet after he’d returned to his home, and she’d seriously considered taking him up on his invitation to visit him. The celebrity reports were full of his pictures, labeling him the Playboy Sheik. That had been a disappointment, not that he had promised her anything. The information had been enough to make her realize the brief affair for what it was: a few days of fun with an exotic stranger. She’d succeeded in putting Aziz out of her mind until those two pink lines appeared on a white plastic stick.

      She took a few days to digest the news. Then called him without success. If she’d checked the Internet again, she would have found out about his death…wouldn’t have come here…to his daunting brother.

      A few of those news reports she’d read mentioned Aziz’s twin. They had called him the Dark Sheik, without explanation, making her wonder. And now she was in the Dark Sheik’s house. She looked around. Scratch that. The Dark Sheik’s palace. God, it sounded like a gothic novel.

      She had figured she would come here, would see how Aziz felt about the possibility of a baby. She wasn’t going to tell him until she got a better idea of what kind of man he really was. Their time in Baltimore had been way too short. They had had some whirlwind dates and one night of passion, the day before he left. She had thought herself to be half in love with him and had been sure he felt the same. She was pretty certain now that he hadn’t, but still, he was the father, and she had wanted to give it another go, if for no other reason than so she could tell her child later in life that she had tried. Her own parents had been all messed up. If she could help it, she wanted something better for her baby.

      She was going to come here and see how Aziz was in his own environment. When and if she felt comfortable with it, she would have told him her news. Not a moment before that. Whatever happened, she was going to protect her baby. She was never going to let her or him go.

      “Doctor Jinan tells me you are well.” Karim came over once the woman left. He was not handsome, not with that scar. But he had a strong, masculine presence that drew her full attention to him. He stopped at a respectable distance from the bed, looking larger and harder than Aziz, infinitely more dangerous. Where Aziz’s face had reflected humor, mischief and a sexy sort of cockiness about life, Karim’s was bathed in darkness. And she didn’t think all of that came from his scar.

      He was wearing a fresh, crisp suit, his hair neatly combed. She felt dirty and sweaty and rumpled in comparison, but wouldn’t let that stop her.

      “Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Abdullah.” Grateful that nobody had undressed her, she pushed off the cover and swung her legs over the side of the bed, glancing around for her shoes. There. She slipped into them. “I’m sorry for all the inconvenience I caused.”

      With Aziz gone, she had no intention of staying here a day longer, no intention of letting Aziz’s family know about the baby. Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to do, but she was leery of the culture and felt none too trusting toward Aziz’s twin brother. He looked as if he could—and would—take the law into his own hands if he felt the need. And he was a sheik, son of a king, as Aziz had been. He probably had a fair amount of power.

      When her child was eighteen, she would reveal the truth and leave the decision up to her or him.

      “Would it be possible to call a taxi?” She flashed Karim her most polite smile, refusing to be intimidated by him.

      Given her social and economic background, she’d spent half her life being intimidated by the wealthy and powerful, by people in charge. But she’d had to get over that in a hurry when she had joined a nonprofit organization and had to interact daily with the elite. And over time, she’d learned that they were just like everybody else, with the same joys and fears and virtues and weaknesses.

      Not that she could see Karim having a whole lot of fears or weaknesses. He had faced that car bomb down, cool as anything, and the memory of the incident was still making her heart beat faster.

      “May I ask what your plans are?” He had his hands in his pockets as he rested his dark gaze on her. He might as well have been carved of solid rock, he looked that unmovable. But he was quick—she remembered him diving for her from his car. He loomed larger than life.

      Exactly the kind of man she needed to avoid at all cost. She swallowed to wet her mouth.

      “I’m going back to the hotel and probably flying out tonight if I can change my flight. I’m truly sorry about your brother.” She was, and she needed time to deal with the sudden news. But she needed to get away from Karim Abdullah’s searching gaze first.

      “Perhaps you could tell me why you were looking for him?” His voice was even and low, with the sort of tone that made it clear he wasn’t a man to mess with.

      She’d gotten that message already.

      “We were friends. I thought I’d stop by to see him. You know, long time no see. A chance to catch up. That sort of thing.” She flashed him another winning smile.

      He watched her as if he could see right through her, and she didn’t appreciate how nervous he made her. It had nothing to do with the four-inch scar that made him look like a desert warrior despite his elegant suit. The overwhelming sense of power that emanated from him was what she was leery of.

      “Thank you for your hospitality.” She got to her feet and stepped around him, half expecting him to stop her.

      He didn’t. “Were you going to tell Aziz that you are carrying his child?”

      She was halfway across the room, but the words stopped her more effectively than anything else could have. She was too scared to turn around and look at him, afraid of what he might read in her face.

      “I’m not—”

      “The paramedic took your blood in the ambulance. The hospital called with the results,” he said in an icy tone. “You’re not the first woman to come looking for him after one of his foreign escapades. I assume you’re here for money?”

      She winced, because that came uncomfortably close to the truth. “It’s not Aziz’s child,” she lied. She would manage on her own somehow. She didn’t want this dark sheik to have any kind of hold on her.

      “My thoughts precisely, but I’d just as soon be sure. I want the case closed once and for all. I hope you won’t mind a DNA test when the child is born.”

      She’d be long back in the U.S. by then, protected by U.S. law. They couldn’t take her baby away at that point, even if they could find her, which she would make sure they couldn’t.

      “No, of course not.” She schooled her face and chanced a look at him.

      His expression remained unreadable, only his eyes darkened further, if that was possible. “Good. I hope you’ll like your rooms. I’ll introduce you to the staff this afternoon. You can pick your personal maid then.”

      The air got stuck in her lungs as she stared at him, startled. Was he completely nuts? “I’m not staying.” She wanted to be very clear on that.

      He paused for a moment. “That’s a good strategy. Reverse psychology.” He inclined his head with a small smile. “I give you this, you seem smarter than the others. But whether you prefer to stay or go has no bearing on anything. Your child might be the grandson of a king, and as such, one of the heirs to the Beharrainian throne.” He watched her closely.

      She felt the blood drain from her face. She’d known that Aziz was one of the king’s cousins. But she knew they hadn’t had a close relationship. And the king had a son. She hadn’t taken succession into account. It wasn’t something someone in her life and position thought much about.

      “I’m sure you already considered that,” he went on. “I hope you won’t be disappointed to hear that a child, even if