The Desert King's Pregnant Bride. Annie West

Now her features were animated, renewed energy evident in her taut body. She was far too alluring.

      ‘Nothing happened tonight.’ She lifted a dismissive hand. ‘Nothing momentous, that is.’ Her lips twisted in a tight grimace that belied her words.

      Taking in the determined jut of her chin, he knew she lied. He gave her full marks for her valiant effort. But something had happened, even if it hadn’t been rape.

      ‘You said you’d had a shock.’

      She shrugged, pursing her lips. ‘Have you ever made an error of judgement?’ she asked at last.

      ‘Of course. Everyone has.’

      ‘There’s a comfort.’ She paused. ‘Well, I just made a mistake. A huge one.’ She drew in a deep breath. Khalid fought to stop his gaze straying to the shadow of her cleavage. ‘Tonight I found out just how stupid I’d been.’

      Her words were defiant, her profile proud, yet Khalid had seen her at rock-bottom just an hour ago. He knew she must still be hurting badly.

      Over the past eight years countless women had tried to snare him with guile, seduction and emotional appeals. He’d remained unmoved. His heart had died with his wife and he had no intention of laying himself open to the raw pain of loss again. But his experience had taught him to distinguish female wiles at a glance. As a result he knew Maggie Lewis was the genuine article. No hidden agenda other than concealing her own weakness.

      That stubborn pride was something he knew all about. Hadn’t his father accused him of being too proud when Khalid had refused to live in indolent luxury? When instead he’d forged a life of hard work that brought its own rewards?

      ‘At least you won’t make the same mistake again.’

      Solemn eyes met his before a shadow of a smile curved the corners of her mouth.

      ‘Absolutely not! I’ll never be that gullible again. I’ve learned my lesson.’

      Intrigued, Khalid watched her rueful expression morph into one of determination. But even that was attractive…too attractive.

      Her intelligence and character intrigued him as much as her vulnerability and her unvarnished beauty. She wasn’t conventionally pretty, but there was something about the spare elegance of her features that drew the eye again and again. He wished she’d sat beside him at tonight’s tedious dinner. Instead he’d been sandwiched between a yawning bore and a flirtatious airhead.

      ‘He’s a fool, whoever he is.’

      ‘He?’ She arched her eyebrows.

      ‘The man tonight. The one who’s caused you such grief.’

      ‘How did you know there was a man?’ She looked genuinely shocked.

      He smiled at her naïvety. ‘It’s relationships between the sexes that cause most pain.’

      ‘I can’t imagine you having any such trouble,’ she riposted instantly. A moment later her expression changed to one of dawning horror, as if she couldn’t believe she’d just uttered the words. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I—’

      ‘You’d be surprised,’ he murmured as memories crowded in. ‘Wealth is no guarantee of happiness.’

      Maggie watched with a pang of regret as the vertical lines reformed at his brow and bracketed his mouth. For a little while there the grimness had lifted from Khalid’s features. Now it was as if a storm cloud loomed, shadowing his face and blocking the hint of light she’d glimpsed.

      She knew a crazy impulse to reach out and touch him, soothe away the pain she saw. But that wasn’t an option. Instead she changed the subject.

      ‘You’re from Shajehar, aren’t you?’

      He nodded. ‘I am.’

      ‘Could you tell me about it? I’ve never travelled and it sounds so exotic.’

      Dark eyes seared hers as if searching for an ulterior motive. Maggie shivered and rolled her collar higher against her throat. Perhaps she should go. It didn’t matter if her clothes weren’t dry, she’d been here long enough and that look made her nervous. But the raging storm and the long trip to her cold, empty house held no appeal.

      ‘It’s a country of contrasts and great beauty. Some parts are not unlike your Hunter Valley, though much is arid. There are wonderful riches if you care to look, and I’m not talking about oil revenue.’ His expression told her he loved his homeland.

      ‘The people are strong and proud of their traditions. But they’ re struggling now to meld their old ways with the best the modern world has to offer.’ He paused, focused on her. ‘You’ve never travelled overseas?’

      ‘I’ve never been anywhere much.’ At his curious look she continued. ‘I grew up on a small farm. Making ends meet was always a struggle. Travel was a luxury.’

      ‘And when you left home?’

      She ducked her head, watching her hands fold the thick fabric in her lap.

      ‘I never left. I had plans to go to the city and study, but there was a drought and my father couldn’t spare me.’ He’d reminded her time and again that it was her duty to stand by him as he’d done his duty and kept her with him all those years. A pity his concept of duty didn’t include even a skerrick of warmth or love.

      ‘And now?’

      ‘Now? I work here.’

      ‘Helping your family?’

      Maggie thought of the empty front bedroom in the old house, the echoing loneliness of the place she called home.

      ‘There was only my father.’ Maggie hadn’t had any contact from her mother or sister since the day they’d left. ‘He died a few months ago.’

      ‘You must miss him.’

      Must she? Miss the stern lectures, the disapproving attitude, the dour temperament?

      ‘I… He wasn’t an easy man to live with.’ That had to be the understatement of the century. Nothing Maggie ever did had been good enough, even when her extra income had been all that kept the old farm afloat. ‘He should have had a son. A daughter is a disappointment to a man like that.’

      ‘I’m sorry, Maggie.’ The words were filled with understanding. She darted a glance at Khalid. Was that compassion in his liquid dark eyes? ‘Some of us aren’t blessed with the best of parents.’

      ‘You too?’

      He paused, as if taken aback by the personal question.

      ‘My father had no time for his family,’ he said eventually. ‘No time for children. He had…other interests.’ Khalid’s tone made it clear those interests weren’t anything he approved of. ‘He was an absentee parent, rarely home. And when he was, let’s just say he had little patience with small boys.’

      Reading between the lines, Maggie felt a sharp stab of fellow feeling, a sympathy for the suffering Khalid had skated over. For the stoic endurance not to collapse under the weight of a parent’s cruel neglect.

      ‘I’m sorry.’ Her voice was husky. ‘Little boys need a dad.’

      ‘And so do little girls.’

      To her horror, his ready sympathy cracked the brittle wall she’d built around her feelings. For years she’d struggled against the belief that she was unlovable, ever since her mum had rejected her, taking Cassie instead. Tonight her fears and pain had coalesced into an aching void of anguish that filled her very being. The force of it clogged her throat and fractured her breathing.

      ‘Maggie.’ Khalid must have seen the stricken expression on her face. He reached out and pulled her close, tucking her head into his shoulder. He rubbed her back with small, circular, soothing movements.

      ‘You’ve