Pleasure: The Sheikh's Defiant Bride. Sandra Marton

      The sultan held out his arms. Madison fixed a smile to her lips and walked into his embrace. He kissed each of her cheeks, then held her at arm’s length and chuckled.

      “Such a nice surprise my son brings me.” His smile tilted. “Did Tariq tell you of the death of his brother?”

      “Yes. I mean, he said something about—”

      “I am happy for the first time since that terrible day. A lovely woman, with my first grandchild in her womb. Who would have thought a tragedy could leave a man twice blessed?”

      Color flooded Madison’s face. Tariq saw it and knew she was not blushing at the compliment but at the depth of their lie.

      He felt something knife into his heart.

      His bride had honor. She had integrity. Where was his?

      “Tonight,” the sultan said briskly, “we shall celebrate. I have contacted all our friends and family. It is short notice but they assure me they will all be here to share our good fortune and to hear you announce your marriage and make it official.” He smiled. “My son, you have done well.”

      A muscle flickered in Tariq’s jaw. “Father. Just a minute. I must talk to you—”

      “We’ll have time to talk tomorrow.” The old man let go of Madison and clasped Tariq’s shoulders. “You have done a good thing,” he said quietly, “a fine thing. Your brother can rest easy. Wherever his spirit dwells, I am sure he is as proud of you as I.”

      The sultan embraced Tariq, kissed Madison again and retraced his steps into the house.

      Tariq stood motionless.

      The scene had gone exactly as he’d hoped.

      And he despised himself for it.

      His father was wrong. Sharif would not be proud of him. No one would. He had drawn them all into a monstrous lie. His father, his people, his dead brother and, most of all, the woman who carried his child. He had dishonored all of them.

      It was not difficult to see that he had dishonored his unborn child, too.

      “Tariq?”

      He felt Madison’s hand fall lightly on his shoulder. He ached for her touch, for her absolution, but he knew damned well he didn’t deserve it so he swung toward her and caught hold of her wrists.

      “I was wrong,” he said harshly. “About everything. I got so caught up in the need for an heir that I was blind to everything else. And—and I forgot a simple thing called honor.”

      Madison stared at the stranger who was her husband. Moments ago, all she’d wanted was to finish this awful charade. Then, she’d met an old man fighting the ravages of time, the loss of a son and the burden of leadership.

      Looking at Tariq’s drawn face, her heart constricted.

      He had been born to awesome responsibility. He’d lost his brother and, from the looks of it, he would probably soon lose his father, too. In the face of all that, he had done what he had to do.

      What any man of honor would do. How could she not have recognized that until now?

      “Habiba. I have wronged you. And I—”

      Madison shook her head. “You did what fate demanded.”

      “Sharif would not be proud of me.”

      “I think he would.”

      “I lied to my father, I forced you into marriage—”

      “You loved your brother.”

      “With all my heart.”

      “And you love your father. You love your land and your people.” She shook her head. “I didn’t really understand.”

      “What is there to understand? I put myself ahead of everything. Ahead of you, our baby, even the righteousness of truth. And that is an unforgivable evil.”

      “You were worried,” she said softly. “About the future of your people and your child.”

      “You’re being generous, habiba. I didn’t think of our baby, I thought of my heir.”

      “Maybe—but somewhere along the way, your heir became our baby.” Her lips curved in a smile. “And look at what’s just happened. You said you were wrong. You apologized. Tariq, this is a day to remember.”

      Tariq looked at his wife. How good she was, this woman whose life he had turned upside down. How could he have seen her only as a vessel for his needs?

      He took a strand of her hair and let it curl around his finger, stalling for time even though he knew what he had to do.

      “Madison. I’m going to take you home. To New York. We’ll meet with my attorney and work out some sort of arrangement. I will, of course, support our child. I only ask that you let me share in its life and teach it to be proud of its heritage.”

      “You don’t have to ask those things of me, Tariq. We’re married.”

      Not yet, Tariq thought. He had announced the marriage to his flight staff, to his father, but until he stood before his people with Madison at his side.

      “We are, aren’t we, Tariq?”

      He hesitated. She deserved the truth.

      “Tariq. Are we married?”

      Tariq looked at the impossible, difficult, untamable female who carried his child.

      Her eyes were very dark; her breathing was quick. She was not what he had ever looked for. Except for her beauty, she had none of the traits he’d believed a wife should have.

      And the thought of giving her up made his heart ache.

      “If I were not a royal, we would be,” he said softly. “But I am a prince, habiba. So until my father makes the announcement before our people—”

      Madison put her fingers over his lips.

      “I had no father, Tariq. I told myself that my child wouldn’t need one, either. And then you appeared at my door. The anonymous donor who’d made me pregnant.” Her eyes met his. “But you’re not that anymore. You’re a man. A good man. How can I deny your right to this child, or its right to you?” She swallowed dryly. “Let your father make the announcement tonight.”

      They looked at each other for a long moment. Then Tariq groaned and gathered her in his arms.

      “You do me an incredible honor,” he said softly. “I will be a good husband. A good father. I swear it, habiba. I will do everything I can to make you happy. I swear that, too.”

      Madison nodded. She knew that he would.

      But he would not love her. That was all right, wasn’t it? Love wasn’t part of this arrangement. Why would she want it to be? She didn’t love this man. Certainly she didn’t love—

       “Habiba?”

      Madison stopped thinking, rose to her husband and sealed their agreement with a kiss.

      CHAPTER NINE

      TARIQ said he would see her later, that he’d have to spend most of the day in meetings.

      “Will you be all right, habiba?”

      Madison had said yes, of course, she’d be fine. She was accustomed to being on her own; why would this be any different?

      The answer came within seconds of his closing the door.

      There was a phone beside the bed. Seeing it made her realize she hadn’t contacted her office. Even if she’d had the time, her cell phone wasn’t geared for overseas use.

      All right. She’d call now. Her P.A. was probably frantic,