Sheikh Without a Heart

“You’re flying to New York! I’m going home.”

“Home?” His tone changed, became hard. “Really? Is that why you came out the door with a suitcase?” There was a gate ahead; he slowed the car as they approached it. “I told you not to take me for a fool, Rachel. When you came down those steps your only thought was to run. I’d bet you didn’t even have a destination. Well, now you do.”

“Get this through your head, Your Highness. There’s not a way in hell I’m flying to New York or anyplace else with you. If you think you can—you can pick up where you left off in my apartment—”

He looked at her, his eyes cold. Then he swung the wheel to the right and pulled onto the shoulde

r of the road.

“I assure you, Ms. Donnelly, I’m not the least bit interested in you sexually.”

“If that’s your idea of an apology—”

“It’s a statement of fact. What happened earlier was a mistake.”

“You’re damned right it was. And if you think it could ever happen again—”

“I’m taking you to New York so we can move to the end of this little drama as quickly as possible.”

“We can do that right here.”

“No, we cannot. I have a home in Manhattan. Commitments to keep.”

“I have commitments, too.”

He laughed. She felt her face heat.

“I’m sure my life doesn’t seem anywhere near as important as yours,” she said coldly, “but it is to my baby and me.”

“I’ll have the DNA of the child tested.”

His tone was flat. Matter-of-fact, as if the issue had been decided.

That frightened her more than anything else. His certainty that there would be a test. That whatever he demanded would happen.

She knew she had to sound decisive, even in the face of his determination.

“The name of the person who fathered my child is my affair.”

“Not if that person was my brother.”

His answer was so logical that for a couple of seconds her mind went blank. What could she say to that?

“Why, Rachel,” he said softly, “don’t tell me you’ve run out of arguments.”

“Here’s the bottom line, Your Highness. There won’t be a test. I won’t grant permission. And there’s not a thing you can do about it.”

“You’re correct,” he said quietly. “I can’t force you.”