Hot-Blooded Husbands Bundle

He offered a shrug. ‘How long is a piece of string?’ he posed whimsically. Then, because he could see that the answer was not enough, he dropped the whimsy, sat right back in his seat and told her curtly, ‘The doctors give him two months—three at most. In that period we have been warned to expect a rapid deterioration as the end draws near. So I ask you to do this one thing for him and help to make his passage out of this world a gentle one…’

Oh, dear heaven, she thought, putting a hand up to her eyes as the full weight of what he was asking settled over her. How could she refuse? She didn’t even want to refuse. She loved that old man as much as she loved her own father. But there were other issues here which had not been aired yet, and it was those that kept her agreement locked inside.

‘The other wife they want for you,’ she prompted, ‘am I to appear to accept her imminent arrival also?’

His expression darkened. ‘Do me the honour of allowing me some sensitivity,’ he came back. ‘I have no wish to sacrifice your face for my own face. And I find it offensive that you could suspect that I would do.’

Which was very fine and noble of him but—‘She is still there, hovering in the shadows, Hassan,’ Leona said heavily. She could even put a name to the woman, though he probably didn’t know that she could. ‘And taking me back to Rahman does not solve your problems with the other family leaders unless you take that other wife.’

‘The old ones and I have come to an agreement,’ he informed her. ‘In respect for my father, they will let the matter ride while he is still alive.’

‘Then what?’

‘I will deal with them when I have to, but for the next few months anyway, my father’s peace of mind must come first.’

And so, he was therefore saying, should it for her. ‘Will you do this?’

The outright challenge. ‘Did you really think that I would not?’ She sighed, standing up and pushing her chair away so that she could step around him.

‘You’re angry.’ His eyes narrowed on her sparkling eyes and set expression.

Anger didn’t nearly cover what she was really feeling. ‘In principle I agree to play the doting wife again,’ she said. ‘But in fact I am now going to go away and sulk as you like to call it. Because no matter how well you wrap it all up in words of concern, Hassan, you are as guilty for using me in much the same way my foiled abductors intended to use me, and that makes you no better than them, does it?’

With that she turned and walked away, and Hassan allowed her to, because he knew she was speaking the truth so had nothing he could offer in his own defence.

Within seconds Rafiq appeared with a question written into the hard lines of his face.

‘Don’t ask,’ he advised heavily. ‘And she does not even know the half of it yet.’

‘Which half does she not know,’ Rafiq asked anyway.

‘What comes next,’ Hassan replied, watching his half-brother’s eyes slide over his left shoulder. He spun to see what he was looking at, then began cursing when he saw how close they were to reaching their reserved berth in Port Said. ‘Ho

w long?’ he demanded.

‘You have approximately one hour before the first guests begin to arrive.’

A small hour to talk, to soothe, to plead yet again for more charity from a woman who had given enough as it was. ‘You had better prepare yourself to take my place, Rafiq,’ he gritted. ‘Because, at this precise moment, I am seriously considering jumping ship with my wife and forgetting I possess a single drop of Al-Qadim blood.’

‘Our father may not appreciate such a decision,’ Rafiq commented dryly.

‘That reminder,’ Hassan turned to snap, ‘was not necessary.’

‘I was merely covering for myself,’ his half brother defended. ‘For I have no wish to walk in your shoes, my lord Sheikh.’

About to go after Leona, Hassan paused. ‘What do you wish for?’ he questioned curiously.

‘Ah.’ Rafiq sighed. ‘At this precise moment I wish for midnight, when I should be with my woman in a hotel room in Port Said. For tonight she flies in to dance for visiting royalty by special request. But later she will dance only for me and I will worship at her feet. Then I will worship other parts of her until dawn, after which I will reluctantly return here, to your exalted service, my lord sheikh,’ he concluded with a mocking bow.

Despite the weight of his mood, Hassan could not resist a smile. ‘You should change your plans and bring her to dinner,’ he suggested. ‘The sheer sensation she would cause would be a diversion I would truly appreciate.’

‘But would Leona?’ Rafiq pondered.

Instantly all humour died from Hassan’s face. ‘Leona,’ he predicted. ‘is in no frame of mind to appreciate anything.’

And on that grim reminder, he went off to find his woman, while half wishing that he was the one treading in Rafiq’s shoes.

He found her without difficulty, shut behind the bathroom door and hiding in the steam being produced by the shower. The fact that she had not bothered to lock the door spoke volumes as to her mood. Hassan could visualise the angry way she would have walked in here, throwing the door shut behind her then taking the rest of her anger out on the heap of clothes he could see tossed onto the floor.