Pregnant By The Desert King. Susan Stephens

look. ‘That would mean seeing each other again,’ she explained. ‘So, where do you come from? You don’t have an office pallor, so I’m guessing somewhere hot...’

      ‘Somewhere far away,’ he said.

      ‘Come on, Mr Security Man. I need specifics.’

      ‘So you can tell your friends?’

      ‘Can’t I be interested?’

      Was he going to talk about the billions he’d made in tech? She’d run a mile. Lucy just wasn’t the type to be impressed by money. And he wanted to keep her around a little longer. Should he tell her that he used to be known as the Playboy Prince, and his people, who had been downtrodden for years by his profligate uncle, hadn’t expected anything of him? They couldn’t have guessed that he’d been waiting for this chance to serve his country, and would seize the opportunity with both hands. Putting his business acumen to its most demanding test yet, he had transformed Qalala, and would continue to put the country before himself.

      ‘And you accuse me of daydreaming,’ Lucy accused.

      He linked arms with her as they crossed the road. It was a gesture that came as naturally as breathing.

      Tadj was gorgeous. And yes, she was smitten. She’d have to be a block of wood not to be affected by his firm touch on her arm, or those amazing eyes, scanning the street to make sure they were safe before he crossed. He was so rugged and tall and tanned, it felt amazing to be linking arms with him.

      ‘Watch out,’ he exclaimed as, distracted, she almost tripped over the kerb.

      As his grip tightened and their faces came dangerously close, she determined to discover Tadj’s true identity when she returned to the laundry. Someone was bound to know. Gossip was rife on King’s Dock, and spread like wildfire. A man like Tadj would hardly go unnoticed. Her workmates would have all the juice, which would almost certainly include the fact that she’d been seen drinking coffee with him.

      ‘I’m afraid this is where we part,’ she said as they approached her workplace.

      ‘Afraid? You?’ he queried with a wry look. ‘Those two things don’t fit.’

      ‘I’m not a thing,’ she said, warming under his gaze. ‘And I’m not afraid of you,’ she added.

      ‘I’m very pleased to hear it,’ he said, making her a mock bow.

      Everything about this encounter was new to her. She’d never had so much fun with a man. She’d never had fun at all. It was such a shame they would probably never meet again.

      He frowned deeply. ‘Do you have to go straight back to work?’

      Her pulse raced. So he felt the connection too. ‘Yes,’ she said, instinct telling her not to make things too easy for him. ‘Some other time, perhaps...’

      ‘When?’

      She hadn’t expected him to be quite so direct. ‘Soon,’ she said airily as her heart tried to pound its way out of her chest. ‘I’d like that,’ she added honestly, feeling she’d been a bit harsh. ‘And you don’t have to walk me to the door.’

      ‘But I insist,’ he said.

      ‘Do you always get your own way?’

      ‘Always,’ he said in a way that made a quiver of excitement tremble low in her belly and her nipples tighten to the point of pain.

      ‘Thanks for the coffee,’ she said when they reached the laundry.

      ‘Just tell me one thing before you go,’ he insisted.

      She looked at his hand on her arm. He let her go. ‘Okay,’ she agreed.

      ‘What would you do if you had all the money in the world?’

      She didn’t even have to think about it. ‘I’d buy new machinery for Miss Francine’s laundry and make sure she took a proper holiday. Did I say something funny?’ She frowned.

      ‘Only what I expected of you, I suppose.’

      Lucy’s heart pounded even faster as Tadj’s magnificent shoulders eased in a casual shrug. ‘Your wish is highly commendable,’ he added, staring down at her with warmth and laughter in his eyes.

      ‘But you’re not the genie in the bottle,’ she observed sensibly.

      ‘I could be...’

      ‘Not this time,’ she said, warning him off with a mock-stern look.

      As she was speaking, she was digging around in her shopper to find her purse.

      ‘What are you doing?’ he asked, frowning as she brought it out.

      ‘Paying for my coffee,’ she said. ‘I don’t like to be in debt to anyone—and you’ve had enough trouble, from what you’ve told me. I would have paid at the café, but you got in fast. Here. Take it,’ she insisted, thrusting some cash towards him.

      ‘I’ll leave it as a tip for the wait staff when I walk past,’ he agreed.

      ‘Brownie points to you,’ she said approvingly. ‘Well, I can’t be late for work.’

      ‘Don’t forget tonight—’

      ‘Tonight?’ she interrupted.

      ‘When I see you again.’

      ‘Oh, I don’t know about that. I’ve got studying to do when I finish work.’

      ‘Studying what?’ he pressed, frowning.

      ‘History of art. My dream is to be a curator, or a conservator one day,’ she explained.

      ‘Working in a museum or an art gallery?’ he proposed.

      ‘Exactly.’

      Tadj stared at her long and hard. ‘Anything else?’ he said at last.

      ‘I’ll let you know if I think of something,’ she promised cheekily with a glance inside the laundry.

      ‘Don’t let me keep you,’ Tadj said dryly.

      ‘I won’t.’

      ‘Just one thing,’ he said.

      ‘Which is?’ she pressed.

      ‘You’ll need a party dress for tonight.’

      ‘I’ve already told you, I’m not coming out tonight.’

      ‘But you’ve got a party to go to.’

      ‘No, I don’t,’ she argued, enjoying the game. How could she not, when Tadj’s wicked black eyes were full of amusement?

      ‘Yes, you do,’ he insisted, acting stern.

      ‘With you? Not likely!’ she countered, wanting to prolong the moment of parting.

      ‘On board the Sapphire tonight,’ he tempted.

      ‘You’re kidding me! You know I can’t resist an invitation like that.’

      ‘Good.’ His lips pressed down attractively, making her wonder what it would feel like if he kissed her. So much so, she almost missed his next statement. ‘My friend Sheikh Khalid is having a party tonight, and you’re invited as my guest.’

      ‘That’s news to me,’ she said, heart pounding as she lifted her chin to confront those dangerous eyes.

      ‘I can’t think of anyone I’d rather take as my plus one. At least we’ll have a laugh. What do you say?’

      ‘Can’t you find someone else to have a laugh with? Someone more suitable?’ Lucy suggested, as the enormity of what she could be agreeing to struck home. A glamorous party on board a yacht that could slip its moorings at any point? However attractive she might find Tadj, or maybe because of it, her sensible self advised caution.

      ‘I’m