Princess's Nine-Month Secret Page 6

  He glanced at Halina who was sitting still, her hands in her lap, her gaze resting on the horizon yet seeming to be turned inward. Her face was pale, her figure slenderer than when he’d last seen her. In fact, now that he was looking at her properly, she seemed entirely different from the innocent yet knowing siren who had tempted him in Rome wearing a sexy dress and stiletto heels, everything about her lush and wanton.

  Now she was wearing a drab tunic and loose trousers in a nondescript beige, both garments hanging on her gaunt frame. Her hair, once loose and wild, was now secured in a simple ponytail low down on her neck. She was as far a cry from the woman he’d made love to as was possible. But despite what she’d done Rico felt an inconvenient shaft of desire as he remembered the feel of her body against his, the silken slide of her limbs and the honeyed sweetness of her mouth. He looked away, determined not to give in to that unwanted emotion right now.

  The next time he slept with Halina, it would be as her husband, their relationship made permanent for the sake of their child and the security he intended his son or daughter to know. The next time he slept with Halina, he wouldn’t lose control. Even now the memory of how far he’d gone, how lost in her he’d been, made him grit his teeth with regret and shame. Never again.

  The helicopter started to descend, and moments later they touched down in a remote and barren location where he’d arranged for another SUV to pick them up and take them to Arjah, from where they would fly to Rome.

  Halina looked startled as she gazed around at the landscape, as inhospitable as at the Palace of Forgotten Sands.

  ‘Where are we?’ she asked as she took Rico’s proffered hand and stepped out of the helicopter. The wind was kicking up, blowing sand everywhere, and she lifted one slender hand to shield her eyes from the dust.

  ‘We’re about a hundred miles from Arjah.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘So far?’

  ‘Such measures were necessary.’ He hadn’t been sure how Sultan Hassan would respond, and he wanted to deal with the head of state on his own terms, back in Italy with Halina as his wife, not during some ill-advised skirmish in the desert.

  Halina’s lips trembled and she pressed them together. ‘I see.’ Her face was pale, and she swayed slightly where she stood. Rico realised, with an uncomfortable jolt, that she was tired. Exhausted, by the looks of it. And, of course, pregnant.

  ‘Not too much longer now,’ Rico said, even though it would be another three or four hours at least jolting across the desert in the SUV until they reached Arjah.

  ‘Okay,’ Halina murmured, and headed towards the car. She fell asleep curled up on the back seat, her dark hair spread over the seat. Rico had dismissed the driver, who had joined the helicopter pilot in a safe return to Abkar. It was just the two of them as the night fell, stars twinkling in an endless sky, until the wind started up again and obliterated nearly everything.

  After another hour of painstakingly inching across the rugged sands Rico was forced to stop. He glanced back at Halina, who had risen sleepily as she’d felt the vehicle come to a halt.

  ‘Are we there...?’

  ‘No.’ Rico’s voice was terse. This wasn’t part of his plan. This was out of his control, and he didn’t like it. ‘It looks like a sandstorm is brewing.’ He’d known it was a possibility, but he’d hoped they could afford being caught in the crosswinds. ‘We’ll have to spend the night here.’

  ‘Here? Where?’ Halina pushed her hair out of her face as she looked around. There was nothing to see but dust and dark. ‘But...where are we?’

  ‘In the middle of nowhere,’ Rico said with a humourless laugh. ‘About fifty miles from Arjah.’ Spending the night in the middle of a sandstorm was not a good idea, but he didn’t have any others. It was too dangerous to keep driving.

  ‘But it’s a sandstorm,’ Halina said, and she sounded genuinely afraid. ‘Rico, do you know how dangerous these are? People can be swallowed up in an instant—consumed!’

  ‘I know.’ Grimly he reached for a kerchief and tied it around his nose and mouth. ‘Stay in the car and cover your face when I open the door.’

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Going out to make us a shelter.’

  ‘But shouldn’t we stay in the car?’

  ‘No, because it will be buried by the sand, and then we’ll never get out.’

  ‘Oh.’ She swallowed, her fragile throat working, her face pale, eyes wide. ‘All right.’ Setting her chin with a determined courage that strangely touched Rico’s hardened heart, she lifted her tunic to cover her mouth and nose.

  Taking a deep breath, Rico opened the door. The wind and sand hit him full in the face, making his eyes sting and cutting off his vision. Despite the covering of his mouth and nose, the sand worked its way in, filling his mouth with grit and choking him.

  Quickly Rico closed the door behind him and hunched his shoulders against the unforgiving onslaught. He gathered provisions from the back of the SUV—a tent, water, food and blankets. As swiftly as he could, his head bowed against the relentless wind and sand, he erected a tent against the partial shelter of a massive boulder. It wasn’t much, but it would help a little against the wildness of the wind and sand.

  Then he battled his way back to the car which was already becoming covered in sand and grit. He wrenched open the door and reached for Halina; she grabbed onto his hand with both of hers.

  With his arm around her shoulders, their heads tucked low, he led her to their shelter, pulling the flap closed behind them and taping it shut to keep out the blowing sands.

  Halina fell onto the floor of the tent on her hands and knees, coughing.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Rico knelt next to her, one hand on her back as she shuddered and coughed.

  ‘Yes,’ she finally gasped out. “Although I feel as if I’ve swallowed half of the Sahara.’ She looked up blinking, her hair tangled about her sand-dusted face.

  ‘Here.’ He reached for one of the plastic gallon containers of water he’d arranged to have packed in the SUV. Fortunately they would not suffer through the storm, as long as they could stay safe through the worst of the wind.

  Rico poured a tin cup full of water and handed it to her. ‘Slowly,’ he advised, and she nodded and took a few careful sips. He held her gaze as she drank; he’d forgotten how lovely and dark her eyes were, how thick and full her lashes. Something stirred inside him, something half-forgotten and ever-insistent.

  ‘Thank you,’ she murmured as she lowered the cup. Rico dabbed the corner of a cloth in the remaining water and then gently wiped the sand from her face. Halina sucked in a shocked breath, staying completely still as he swept the cloth along her forehead and cheekbones, her dark, wide gaze tracking his.

  What he’d intended to be expedient and practical suddenly felt erotic and charged. Desire throbbed through him as he continued to wipe the sand away, conscious of Halina’s soft skin beneath his fingers, the pulse hammering in her throat, every hitched breath she drew.

  ‘Rico...’ His name was a whisper, whether plea or protest he didn’t know. He dropped the cloth, not wanting the distraction of desire at this point, as insistent as it was. He needed to focus on their future...their child.

  ‘You should eat,’ he said roughly. ‘You need to keep up your strength. You look as if you have wasted away to little more than skin and bone.’

  ‘I’ve had morning sickness. All day sickness, really.’ She smiled wanly but her eyes were dark and troubled. ‘You’re angry. Why?’

  He was, but he disliked how she made this about his unruly emotion rather than her deliberate actions. ‘Eat,’ he said as he yanked out some pita bread and dried meat. ‘Then we’ll talk.’

  Halina took the bread and nibbled on it, barely swallowing a mouthful. ‘What are we going to talk about?’

  ‘We could begin,’ Rico said, an edge entering his voice, ‘with
why you dared to attempt to hide your pregnancy from me. Going all the way to that godforsaken place to keep it from me, even.’ His eyes flashed fire and the pita bread dropped from Halina’s fingers.

  ‘Is that what you think...?’

  ‘It’s what I know.’ He picked up the bread and pushed it towards her. ‘But first, eat. There will be time enough to discuss the past...as well as our future.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  HALINA STARED AT Rico in disbelief, although why she should be surprised by his high-handed manner she had no idea. It was par for the course. Still, she struggled to find a suitable reply. Her mind was spinning and her stomach seethed. She was not at her best for an all-out confrontation.

  ‘Eat,’ Rico said again, and because she knew she needed the sustenance, she nibbled the pita once more. ‘You look terrible,’ he remarked after a moment and she let out a huff of humourless laughter.

  ‘Why, thank you very much.’

  ‘Why have you not been taking care of yourself?’

  She lowered the bit of bread and eyed him with disbelief. ‘Seriously? You’re going to ask me that?’

  ‘What else am I supposed to ask?’

  She shook her head. ‘God only knows. You blame me for everything, even being a virgin.’

  ‘You should have told me.’

  ‘Not that again. Are we going to revisit that particular argument now?’

  ‘No,’ Rico answered tightly. ‘We are not.’

  Which made Halina’s stomach clench unpleasantly because she didn’t think she wanted to talk about the other matters that might be on Rico’s agenda. The courage that had been buoying her briefly, sparked by his sheer pig-headedness, trickled away.

  She glanced at him from under her lashes, taking in the obdurate set of his jaw, the sharp cheekbones, the hard eyes. She’d forgotten how intimidating he was, especially when he wasn’t trying to get her into bed.

  The memory of just how easily she’d tumbled into that bed made her cringe with shame. She’d had nearly two months of public and private shame to deal with—her father’s icy fury, her mother’s heartbroken disappointment, her own inner torment. Even the lowliest of the palace staff had sensed her humiliation. No one had remained unscathed by her actions, least of all herself. When she thought of what she’d almost had to do...

  She tossed the bread aside, her stomach too unsettled even to think of food. Rico frowned.

  ‘I said you should eat.’

  ‘I know, but I don’t feel up to it. And I don’t think you want me retching in this small space.’ She wrapped her arms around her knees, feeling lonelier even than she had when she’d been at the Palace of Forgotten Sands, and the days had been endless and empty. Now she was in a tiny, enclosed space with a man who seemed to be taking up all the air and energy and she felt even more alone...and afraid. The relief that she’d been rescued was replaced by a greater fear. ‘Frying pan and fire’ came alarmingly to mind.

  ‘Try the meat,’ Rico said gruffly, handing her a strip of meat that looked as tough as leather. Halina couldn’t tell if he was trying to be kind or just insistent. She took it reluctantly, because she really was feeling wobbly inside. Even though she didn’t like Rico’s methods or manner, she knew he was right. She’d lost nearly a stone since the nausea had hit. For her baby’s sake, she needed to eat.

  ‘Has your morning sickness been very bad?’ he asked after a moment as she worried the salted meat with her teeth.

  ‘Yes.’ Halina swallowed. ‘For the last month or so I’ve barely been able to keep anything down.’ She managed a wry smile, her tone tart. ‘Which is why I look so terrible.’

  Rico, of course, did not look remotely abashed by her reminder. ‘You need to take better care of yourself. Why hasn’t your doctor prescribed something for the nausea?’

  Halina stared at him, torn between fury and an exhausted exasperation. ‘I haven’t seen a doctor.’ Not one she wanted to remember, anyway. The one doctor she’d seen... But, no. She didn’t want to think about that.

  ‘What?’ Rico’s mouth dropped open in outrage before he snapped it shut, his eyes narrowing. ‘Why on earth not?’

  She shook her head wearily. ‘You have no idea.’

  ‘Then enlighten me.’

  Halina sat back, wondering whether she had the strength or will to explain to Rico about the last two months, and then no doubt be subjected to his scorn and condemnation—or maybe just his disbelief.

  ‘Lina.’ His voice was rough, urgent. ‘Halina. Tell me what you mean.’

  ‘I was called Lina as a child,’ she said inconsequentially. ‘I didn’t lie when I told you that’s what my name was.’

  ‘That is hardly my concern now.’

  ‘But it was before.’ She was splitting hairs, but she was too emotionally fragile to battle all this out now. ‘Rico, I’m tired and it’s raging out there. Can’t we leave this for a little while?’ Maybe another day she’d have the strength to admit everything she’d endured. As for now, she just wanted to sleep, if she could.

  The wind had picked up even more and was battering the sides of the tent, howling around them, a relentless monster eager for prey.

  Rico gave a terse nod. ‘Very well. As you say, now is not the time or the place—but I will have answers, Halina. Of that there is no doubt.’

  ‘Fine.’

  He unrolled two sleeping bags and shook them out. With an entirely different kind of queasy feeling, Halina realised how close they’d be sleeping to each other—shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. Not that anything was going to happen in the middle of a sandstorm, and with her feeling like a plate of left-over pudding. But still... She was aware of him. Even now.

  She adjusted the shapeless tunic and trousers she wore, as if they could offer her more coverage. As if Rico would even be tempted. She knew she looked terrible and he’d already told her so. Feeling silly for even considering such a possibility, Halina scooted into the sleeping bag and drew it up to her chin.

  Rico eyed her for a moment, his mouth compressed, a look of cool amusement on his features.

  ‘Are you worried for your virtue?’ he drawled. ‘Because, I assure you, it’s not in any danger.’

  ‘I don’t have any virtue left to lose,’ Halina retorted. ‘You made sure of that.’

  Rico’s face darkened. ‘Are you going to blame me for that now? Because—’

  ‘No, Rico, I’m not. I should have told you. Trust me, I know. I wish I had, because then—’ She cut off that unfortunate thought before she could give it voice. She would not regret her baby. It had already cost her too much, innocent life that it was. ‘I just want to go to sleep,’ she said. And then, pointedly, she turned away from him on her side and closed her eyes.

  Sleep, however, felt impossible. Her stomach seethed, as did her mind. What was she doing here? And what was going to happen? Her life was in chaos, and the only sure thing was the baby nestled in her womb. But even that little one’s life was being thrown up in the air like a set of dice... Rico was entirely in control, as he always was. Whether she was in a fortress or a tent, Halina acknowledged starkly, she was still imprisoned, her fate at the whim of another, and in this case a complete stranger.

  Next to her she heard Rico moving around and then sliding into his sleeping bag. The rustle of fabric in the darkness felt intimate, and Halina inched a little bit away, not that there was much room.

  Inconvenient memories were sliding through her mind in an all too vivid montage. The feel of Rico’s body on hers. In hers. The way she’d given herself to him, utterly and overwhelmingly. It had felt as if she hadn’t even had a choice, but of course she had. She’d just made the wrong one.

  Then, even though it only hurt, Halina let herself think that treacherous what if? What if she hadn’t been so stupid as to sacrifice her entire future for a single night with Rico Falc
one? Where would she be now? Would Zayed al bin Nur have stayed married to her friend Olivia? Halina hoped so. She knew they were in love, and it would have been even worse to be married to a man who loved another than to be where she was now, pregnant and shackled to a man who regarded her with contempt and disdain.

  So if Zayed stayed married to Olivia and she hadn’t been pregnant...right now she might be free, the future stretched out in front of her, shining and brimming with possibility.

  Of course, realistically her father would have arranged another marriage to another suitable stranger, but Halina didn’t want to think about that now. She had enough to deal with, sleeping next to this unsuitable stranger.

  ‘Stop wriggling around,’ Rico said irritably, his voice sounding loud in the enclosed space.

  ‘I’m not wriggling,’ Halina returned indignantly. ‘I’m barely moving.’ She’d been staying completely still, as if Rico might forget she was there.

  Rico just sighed as if she were simply too tedious to deal with. It was going to be a long night. It was going to be a long life. What had Rico meant, ‘their future’? She shuddered to think.

  Eventually, simply because she was so utterly exhausted, Halina fell into a restless doze, only to wake suddenly, her body on high alert.

  ‘What...?’ she began, blinking in the darkness. Outside the wind was shrieking, and the sides of the tent sagged inwards from the weight of both the wind and the sand, and Halina felt as if she was being entombed. Perhaps she was.

  A shudder of terror went through her and she whimpered out loud. The storm raged all around them, seemingly ready to consume their tent in its ravenous maw. Heaven help them both, was this going to be the end of them both?