Did she figure she could get more money out of him if he had to waste time searching for her?
The truth was, he didn’t give a damn what it would cost to gain custody of the boy. He’d threatened her with legal proceedings but going to court would be a last resort. Most of his clients abhorred publicity.
As for the effect back home …
The eyes of the world would fix on the scandal. His father
would be devastated.
Karim shut his eyes.
He didn’t want to think about it. Not yet. Not until he absolutely had the test results in hand.
Which he would, tomorrow.
He’d made the necessary calls. First he’d phoned the Vegas hotels where Rami had owed money and arranged for payment to them all. With that out of the way, he’d contacted his attorney. His physician. His chief of staff. They were the only people he could trust right now. He’d given instructions to each of them and now all he had to do was make sure the woman didn’t slip away with the child.
He still couldn’t imagine why she would want to. That was a puzzle, but then, so was she.
She seemed to really care about the boy. That, alone, was hard to comprehend. She was clearly broke, and having a baby to worry about surely only made her financial situation more difficult.
And then there were her other traits.
She was stubborn. Defiant. Outspoken. The worst qualities of modern women, all in one package.
Women, modern or not, should not be like that.
Women were supposed to be … perhaps compliant was too strong a word.
He had never dealt with a woman like this before.
“Of course you’re right, sir,” they’d say in business, because he was, after all, not only a sheikh but head of a multibillion-dollar investment fund.
If the relationship was intimate, a woman would leave off the “sir”, but both he and she knew who was in charge.
His last mistress had been spectacularly beautiful and, supposedly, incredibly intelligent—but she’d never argued with him over anything.
He liked it that way …
Then how come, after a while, he’d had the grim feeling that if he’d said something like, Alanna, how about walking on coals to amuse me? she’d have smiled prettily and said, Just let me get a match.
He scowled, pushed aside the papers he’d been pretending to read, and folded his arms.
He knew how Rachel would react if he said something like that to her.
Angry as he was—at his brother, at her, at the situation the two of them had left for him to deal with—he wanted to laugh.
She’d begin with You can go to hell and work up exponentially from there.