Modern Romance December Books 5-8. Дженнифер Хейворд
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she was a commodity to be traded between countries and palaces at the Emir’s convenience, he was about to discover he was wrong.
‘Tadj, I—’ Her jaw dropped when he picked up the phone and started talking in Qalalan. She was tempted to ask the housekeeper to call a cab so she could leave, but how would that help her baby and her mother?
‘Address,’ he said curtly after he’d ended his call. ‘That is what you asked for, isn’t it?’ he demanded as he scribbled something down on a piece of paper. ‘You’ve got everything you need from me now, I presume?’
If he thought that, Tadj really was a changed man.
‘Call the friends and employers,’ he insisted as he held out the phone. ‘Tell your landlady you’re safe with me. What else does she need to know?’ he demanded when Lucy stood dumbstruck in front of him.
Perhaps it was hysteria, but she began to laugh. ‘You don’t know Miss Francine.’ Lucy’s landlady, the owner of the laundry where she worked, was noted for defending the women beneath her roof like a tigress with its cubs.
‘Just tell her we’re at my place in the Cotswolds, and reassure her that you’re safe,’ Tadj rapped impatiently.’
Safe? Lucy doubted she knew the meaning of the word. How would Tadj feel when he found out about her stepfather? Would she be safe then, or would she be prevented from seeing her child and sent home when he realised she had criminal connections? However big the risk, she had to do this, she decided as she placed the first call.
‘Your decision about becoming my mistress?’ Tadj prompted when her conversation ended, and they were waiting in tense silence for the housekeeper to knock on the door.
‘Hasn’t changed,’ Lucy confirmed, still wondering if this aloof stranger was the same man she’d kissed, and with whom she’d shared such an explosion of joy when they’d made love. When they’d first met he’d seemed so humorous, and approachable, but now her hackles rose. ‘How would you feel if I asked you to be my official lover?’
‘Pretty good,’ he said without missing a beat.
Not so aloof now, she thought, still feeling needled and demeaned by Tadj’s suggestion. ‘It’s different,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘You’re suggesting I become the Emir of Qalala’s concubine. Do you know how cheap that makes me feel?’
That’s your problem, his look suggested.
‘Let’s turn this on its head,’ she said. ‘I ask you to be my lover, making it clear that all I need from you is sex and laughs, with no expectations on either side. When I’m tired of you, I ditch you. I’d like to say I’d give you a pension when you leave, but I’m afraid that won’t be possible.’
‘Lucy!’ Tadj rapped impatiently, ‘That is not what I’m suggesting.’
‘Well, it sounds like it,’ she flared. ‘Can’t you see how ridiculous your suggestion is in this day and age? No,’ she warned when his eyes flashed with humour. ‘This isn’t a joke. Don’t mock me. I need you to take this seriously.’
She was full of angry frustration. No one could frustrate her like Tadj. She never knew if he was being serious or teasing her. The only certainty was that sensible Lucy was nowhere to be found when Tadj was in the frame.
Picking up the phone, Tadj spoke to the housekeeper, asking that she delay taking Lucy to her room for another half an hour. ‘Sit down,’ he said quietly when he’d cut the line. ‘I have something to tell you—to explain to you.’
‘Oh?’ She took a couple of steadying breaths, which gave her enough time to accept that it might be to her advantage to listen.
‘You think I’m being autocratic, but what you need to understand is that Qalala is different, and, though you’re expecting my child, the position of mistress is the only way I can have that child recognised in some way.’
‘In some way?’ Lucy exclaimed with affront. ‘That’s not enough. Either you recognise your child or you don’t. There can be no half measures where children are concerned.’
‘Please hear me out.’
She agreed with a curt nod.
‘Thank you.’ Coming to sit on a chair facing her, Tadj explained, ‘The constitution of Qalala only allows the Emir to make a constitutional marriage, which is always arranged by committee.’
‘You’re joking!’ Lucy cut in with disbelief.
‘Actually, I’m not,’ Tadj said in the same measured tone. ‘There were many things I wanted to change when I inherited the throne, but the first thing I had to do was to set Qalala back on its feet in order to stop my people starving. My uncle ruined the country, so I hope you can understand that those vital actions were much higher up my agenda than dealing with the country’s antiquated laws. These laws also allow for the Emir to take concubines, as you call them, and further allows for their children to be recognised and accepted into society. I imagine the thinking was that these state-arranged marriages might not always succeed, and so a provision was put in place to allow future rulers to find some happiness with their mistresses and children.’
‘Wow,’ Lucy murmured, utterly lost for words.
They were both silent for quite a while; now Tadj had been so frank with her, she felt she owed the same to him. ‘Seems we both have something to confess,’ she admitted.
As they stared at each other, she could see that Tadj was wondering what new bombshell was about to hit. Better to speak frankly, and hold nothing back. ‘I need to get out of the country fast,’ she admitted.
Tadj’s expression didn’t change, so, inhaling shakily, she told him the rest. ‘My stepfather is a criminal and has just been released from jail.’
She expected a reaction, but Tadj’s face told her nothing. ‘He’s a criminal boss with a very long reach, who made my mother’s life a misery, and now he’s threatening my mother through me. If she doesn’t take him back, he’ll come after me. That’s why my mother begged me to get out of the country. I received the call from her quite literally minutes before I saw you in the restaurant. You gave me the perfect way out,’ she admitted. ‘So, there you are,’ she said when Tadj remained silent. ‘I need you to help me, and you want me to be your mistress, so your child will be recognised and not hidden away. If a compromise is possible, I have to consider it...’ she waited. ‘Please say something.’
Tadj picked up the phone ‘I’m calling my housekeeper to show you to your room. Be ready to leave for Qalala first thing in the morning.’
LUCY GOT HER chance to call both her employers while Tadj was speaking to his housekeeper about the latest arrangements. Her second and most important call was to Miss Francine, a woman she had really come to care for. As she stood in the baronial hallway, she frowned as she waited for her elderly friend to pick up, thinking how to frame her news. She didn’t want to cause any alarm, so it was crucial to find the right words. Tadj’s suggestion that Lucy should become his official mistress was enough to send anyone into a tailspin, let alone a kindly octogenarian. As the log fire crackled, and the phone trilled in her ear, Lucy’s thoughts returned to Tadj. Could a man insensitive enough to ask her to become his mistress in this day and age be expected to make a good father?
She didn’t get the chance to progress the thought, and had to swiftly rejig her thoughts when Miss Francine answered. Having explained where she was and who she was with, Lucy explained that the Emir of Qalala had invited her to visit his country with a view to putting on an exhibition of the famous sapphires. It was almost the truth, and it was a relief when an excited Miss Francine took over from there. She’d read about the Sapphire Sheikhs, and believed the trip to Qalala to see the sapphire mines with an opportunity to display would make a wonderful