Karim stared down at the child.
Blah, indeed.
Of course Rami would have kept it to himself—the same as he’d never mentioned his gambling debts.
You didn’t talk about your mistakes—and the birth of a child out of wedlock was a mistake.
Rami had scoffed at convention, but under it all he’d known he was the son of a king and, after Karim, next in line to the throne.
There were certain rules of behavior that applied, even to him.
News of an illegitimate child would have resulted in a scandal back home. Their father might have completely cut off his younger son, even banished him from the kingdom.
So, yes. The child was Rami’s, and it was illegitimate. There had not been a marriage certificate among his brother’s papers. There’d been lots of other stuff. Expired drivers’ licenses. Outdated checkbooks. Scribbled notes and, of course, endless bills and IOUs.
Nothing that even hinted at a wife.
Rachel Donnelly stood before him, as frozen as a marble statue, her eyes locked on the child in his arms.
No. Rami had not married her. Drunk or not, he surely would have known better than to tie himself permanently to a woman like this.
She was a woman a man bedded, not wedded, Karim thought, without even a hint of humor.
Beautiful.
Fiery.
Tough as nails.
His brother might have found all that spirit and defiance sexy.
He did not and would not. But this wasn’t about him.
“Give me the baby.”
Her voice was low, a little thready, but the color had come back into her face. She was regaining her composure.
Why had she reacted with such distress?
If this was Rami’s child, this could be a golden opportunity. Her lover’s child and her lover’s brother, coming face to face …
“Give me the baby!”
He wondered why she hadn’t tried to contact him before this. Well, that was obvious. She’d thought Rami would come back to her.
Was this the reason he’d left her? Because she’d become pregnant?
It was an ugly thought, that his brother would have abandoned his own child, but nothing about Rami surprised him anymore.