The Sheikh's Secret Babies

‘Yes...I think so too,’ Chrissie said with a grin. ‘Most parents think their kids are wonderful.’

It felt like a time out of time for Chrissie, for the presence of the children muted her hostility to Jaul and her tension had ebbed. ‘They need a nap now,’ she announced, scrambling upright intending to leave, a slender figure in jeans and a purple tee.

Jaul hit a button on the wall. ‘There are cots upstairs ready for them. Jane will come.’

Chrissie stiffened. ‘But I was about to go back home...’

‘We have to talk. We might as well do so while our children sleep,’ Jaul retorted smoothly as if it was no big deal.

Chrissie didn’t want to talk to him though. She thought it was much better to let the lawyers handle everything and keep the dissolution of their sadly short little marriage unemotional and impersonal. On the other hand, she didn’t want to be unreasonable and wondered if he was really hoping to see more of the twins after their nap. She climbed the stairs behind Jane, each of them cradling a twin.

An entire nursery had been assembled for the babies’ use and she wasn’t surprised—even a few short weeks living with Jaul had taught her that with sufficient money almost anything could be achieved overnight. Once Tarif and Soraya were settled she walked slowly downstairs again.

Jaul was in the drawing room and a fresh tray of coffee awaited them. Chrissie shot a rueful glance at it. ‘You’re a brave man,’ she commented, thinking of the sugar bowl and jug she had hurled on her previous visit.

‘You couldn’t hit a wall at six paces,’ he teased, a slow grin curling his strong, sensual mouth and chasing the gravity away entirely, giving her an unsettling glimpse of the slightly younger, lighter-hearted Jaul she had married.

‘Aren’t we being civilised?’ Chrissie remarked in turn while she poured the coffee and offered him a cake like the perfect hostess.

‘Perhaps you should put the cup down now,’ Jaul advised, poised straight and tall by the window. ‘Because I don’t want a divorce.’

Her turquoise eyes flew wide and her coffee cup rattled against the saucer she held. ‘I beg your pardon?’

Jaul breathed in very slow and deep, broad chest expanding below the T-shirt. ‘If the children are to take their proper place in the royal family I cannot give you a divorce now,’ he explained tautly. ‘I can get away with producing a wife and children like rabbits out of a hat and people will understand because my father’s prejudice against Western women was well-known. But for the sake of the family and my country I cannot throw in an immediate divorce—’

Without the smallest warning, Chrissie felt ready to scream with vexation because it seemed to her that they were programmed to be at odds with each other. She had lain awake the night before remembering how she had foolishly threatened to make getting a divorce difficult for Jaul and she had seen no sense in taking such a stance. Surely it was wiser for her to agree to a quick divorce and move on with her life? Why the heck would she want to prolong that process and leave herself neither married nor single purely for the sake of causing Jaul some temporary aggravation? In the end she had decided that a quick divorce would be best for both of them, particularly if she was going to have to share the twins with Jaul.

‘I’m sorry,’ Chrissie now said flatly. ‘But I do want a divorce and I can have one whether you like it or not. I’m afraid I don’t owe you or your country anything—’

Jaul shifted a graceful hand in a silencing motion. ‘Perhaps I phrased this in the wrong way. I’m asking you to give our marriage another try—’

Chrissie set down her cup with a jolt and stood up. ‘No,’ she said, refusing to even think about that suggestion. ‘Too much of my life has been screwed up by you and I want my independence back—’

‘Even if it’s at the cost of your children?’

‘That’s not a fair question. I have done everything possible to be a good mother—’

‘Tarif is the heir to my throne. I must take him home with me,’ Jaul murmured very quietly. ‘I do not want to part him from you or his sister but it is my duty to raise my heir—’