Modern Romance Collection: June 2018 Books 5 - 8. Jane Porter

out, once she had a minute—if that ever happened, Millie thought, grimacing as she stared around in the gloom. Brushing a web out of her hair, she checked the valve she’d replaced was working smoothly, and then carefully backed out of the confined space on all fours.

      ‘Phew, it’s hot in there,’ she exclaimed as she emerged into the light. ‘I’ll have to set up a fan or something before the Sheikh’s team arrives—’

      It was the silence that alerted her to something out of the ordinary. Standing, she turned around. ‘Khalid?’

      Millie’s stomach clenched alarmingly and, turning away, she was forced to put her hand over her mouth.

      One. Two. Three. Time up! Turn around.

      ‘We were only speaking on the phone an hour or so ago,’ she exclaimed heatedly, as if he were in the wrong. ‘How on earth did you get here so quickly?’

      ‘I’m overwhelmed by my welcome,’ he said dryly.

      His smoky, mocking tone, and those eyes...those all-seeing, darkly amused eyes, made her heart beat off the scale.

      Was he really here? Their baby! How would he take it? I love you—so, so much. Oh, good grief, what do I look like with webs in my hair and oil on my face? I never thought to see you again, and now you’re here—

      And breathe.

      ‘No! Don’t touch me!’ she yelped, backing away as Khalid, looking like the master of the sexual universe in a rugged jacket and jeans, advanced. ‘I’m covered in oil and spiders’ webs.’

      As she spoke the room cleared as Miss Francine quickly ushered everyone out.

      There was no stopping Khalid now. Closing the distance between them in a single step, he took hold of her arms in a non-negotiable grip, and, blazing a fierce look into her eyes, he demanded, ‘Do you really think I care about a few spiders’ webs?’

      ‘You should—I mean, your expensive jacket—’

      He snarled something in Khalifan that needed no translation, and dipped his head; he savaged her mouth with a kiss so deep, so firm and passionate, she almost swooned in his arms. When he let her go there was a moment she would never forget, when they stared at each other. So many frustrated hopes and dreams must be reflected in her eyes, while his were stonily determined. ‘I can’t do this again,’ she whispered.

      ‘Yes, you can,’ he said. ‘And you will.’

      He was to marry some suitable princess. Why pretend? Millie’s heart had already been dashed to pieces on the harsh rock of reality. But that didn’t stop her heart aching with love, even as the more sensible part of her wished they could have remained continents apart, so she would never have to go through the grief of losing him again.

      ‘You’re coming with me,’ he rapped.

      ‘No, I’m not,’ she argued, incredulity ringing in her voice.

      ‘That wasn’t a suggestion,’ Khalid assured her. ‘We’ve wasted enough time. Do you want my help or not?’

      ‘At the laundry?’ she said in confusion. ‘Of course, I want your help. But not if you’re blackmailing me—I’ll find some other way.’ She stared at him tensely. They had to get this straight.

      Neither was prepared to back down, or give in. They were perfectly matched, she thought a little wistfully.

      ‘You have a decision to make,’ Khalid told her.

      Think—think straight—make the right call.

      She only had one shot at this. A lifetime of work had gone into the laundry, as well as all the precious lives Miss Francine strived so hard to put back on track. It wasn’t just jobs at stake here, but people’s futures and their happiness, and maybe even survival for some of her friends. She had to get this right. It wasn’t about her feelings for Khalid, or even for her own self-respect; it was a bigger decision than all of that.

      ‘Where are you going from here?’ she asked tensely.

      ‘To my London home,’ Khalid told her succinctly, his eyes stern, his mouth firm.

      Well, that wasn’t too bad. It wasn’t as far away as Khalifa. ‘Can’t we talk here?’

      With a sound of impatience, Sheikh Khalid—for she could think of him as nothing else now, and in this setting—raked his hair. ‘I can’t just book into the local motel.’

      He had a point.

      ‘You wanted to discuss Miss Francine’s case,’ he reminded her. ‘And you convinced me this meeting can’t wait. I can’t wait,’ he added in a clipped tone. ‘I have a country to run, and business at the palace in London. Either you come with me now, or I return to the capital without you, in which case you can go through the usual channels to apply for the grant.’

      Millie’s jaw dropped. ‘You are blackmailing me.’

      ‘I’m telling you how it is,’ Khalid stated without emotion, though there was fire burning behind his eyes.

      So much for romantic reunions, Millie thought, feeling her spirits dip even as her determination to do something right strengthened. ‘I’ll have to change my clothes—’

      ‘No time,’ he rapped. ‘Everything will be waiting for you when we arrive. Go and say goodbye to your friends.’

      Millie’s mind was in turmoil. This was crazy. She was still getting over the shock of seeing him. And coming to terms with how much she’d missed him, she silently admitted. Khalid’s stern expression held nothing but impatience, though his kiss had suggested he was pleased to see her, she accepted wryly. If she had a chance of saving Miss Francine’s business, she didn’t have a choice, and better she told him about the baby when they had some prospect of privacy in his London home. ‘Ten minutes,’ she said.

      ‘Five,’ he countered.

      She fired a look into Khalid’s fierce dark eyes, to let him know she’d do this, but was no pushover. He held her stare locked in his, and in that split second she knew there would be trouble ahead. Putting down her tool bag, she headed into the next room to break the news that she was leaving to her employer and friends.