A Marriage of Convenience (Married to a Prince) (2 page)

She could almost feel the intensity of
Yousef’s heated gaze as he leaned forward to get a better look at Joey. Why didn’t he say anything? "A lot of women in the work force," she said to break the uncomfortable silence.

"Those that we don’t keep uneducated and shackled to the bedroom, you mean?"

"I never said that," she muttered, although, the last time were together she had uttered a lot of other angry words. For the most part, she regretted what she had said. Obviously, Yousef still believed he was completely blameless.

Refusing to be drawn into a debate over who had been more wrong, she took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
She didn't come here to relive her past with Yousef. As it was, she had a constant reminder of him when she looked at her son. For her own wellbeing she needed to get back to the safety of her home as soon as possible.

* * * *

Yousef shifted in the spacious seat to relieve the unexpected tightening in his groin. Much about Honor was different but his reactions to her were just as he remembered. The sweet scent of her could still twist his insides. Silky strands of wheat colored hair hid her face as she gazed down at the child she kept nestled against her.

Why hadn’t Sean said something?
He had been to the States just last month to see his daughter. Unless Sean didn’t make the connection. Yousef swallowed a groan. He glanced again at the dark hair, dark eyed baby who was a striking contrast to his fair mother.

“How old is he?”
Yousef asked. She pretended not to hear him, so he repeated his question

A breath seemed to catch in her throat as she tried to swallow. “Five months.”

An icy chill washed over him. It didn’t take a math genius to calculate the timing. Five months old, nine months to have a baby would put conception to the time when they were still together. Had she known she was pregnant when she broke off with him?

Why the hell had she kept the child a secret?
“I don’t believe you.”

Wearily, she pushed some loose strands of hair behind her ear.
“Then why don’t you pick an age, Yousef.”

“I meant
I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

She lifted her head defiantly. “Tell you what?”

“That I have a son.”

Her arms
cradled the baby more possessively. “He is
my
son.”

“And mine as well!” His raised voice fr
ightened the child.

Honor shot Yousef a scathing glare, then cooed at the squirming bundle in her arms.
“Shh. It’s all right.” The gentle hum of her voice calmed the baby instantly.

“What is his name?”

“Is there a point to this?” Exasperation caused her voice to pitch.

“I think there is a very big point.”
She might not have wanted him, but she had no right to keep him out of his son’s life. “So, what did you name him?”

She didn’t answer at first.

“I can have his passport checked, Honor.”

“Joey.
His name is Joey.”

“As in Joseph?”
The Anglicized version of his name.

His anger, which had merely simmered, now came to a boil. How could she sit there so calmly?
She should feel guilty, anxious, and afraid. Hell, she should feel at least as confused as he felt. Instead she sat there in all her cool Celtic glory and held onto his son and if she alone owned all claim to the child.

“When can I see my father?” she asked.

He noted her attempt to change the subject and for the moment he went along, although not without a struggle. Inhaling deeply, he fought to keep his anger in check. He needed time. If he let his temper speak now, she might leave before he could formulate a plan.

“When we arrive at the palace.”

She stroked her finger across Joey’s rounded cheek, drawing a smile and a strange babbling noise. He remembered the way she used to run those long slender fingers over his body. The memory revived a host of warm feeling he wanted to keep buried. He had opened up his life and his heart to her once and she had thrown it back in his face. He wouldn’t give her a second chance.

Chapter
Two

Honor’s first look at the royal palace knocked the wind out of her. In all the time she’d known Yousef, he had never mentioned the sheer size of the place. She had seen five star resorts that were smaller. Stately palm trees lined the road into the compound. Lush, green lawns surrounded the house. She hadn’t expected to find such a variety of foliage in a place known for its arid desert. If she was honest, little of Nadiar was as she had pictured. She realized now, just how little she knew about her father’s life.

Since her parents
’ divorce, her mother had always referred to Nadiar as
that dustbowl where your father works.
She had blamed his job for the break-up of their marriage yet she had refused to consider leaving her quiet New England home. She wouldn’t even allow Honor to visit her father here for fear she would not be allowed to return to America.

Had her moth
er’s closed-minded attitude caused her to fear a place she’d never been? Could that prejudice have been partly responsible for her break-up with Yousef? It was easy to blame him for everything, a lot harder to admit that she might have subconsciously sabotaged her own happiness.

Her body trembled.
She couldn’t undo the past and she couldn’t control the future. The present was all she could handle right now, and she needed to be strong.

She glanced around the magnificent grounds.
From the electronic gates where they entered the compound to the door where the driver let them off, Honor counted at least thirty different people working the property. “You certainly have a lot of servants,” she commented as she stepped inside the massive wooden door.

“Staff,” Yousef corrected.

“Excuse me?”

His eyes narrowed.
“It’s a staff, not servants. They are all paid.”

“I never meant to imply that they weren’t.”
She hugged Joey closer for comfort. Yousef was determined to misinterpret everything she said. He was angry and self-righteous, a lethal combination with his macho temperament.

“This way.”
He led her through a maze of corridors, following a black and white marble path. She had no time to pause and admire the spectacular arabesque woodwork, the impressive art or the opulent elegance of the west wing they had entered.

“I thought you were going to take me to my father.”

“I am.”

“In the palace?” she asked.
“I thought he was in the hospital.”

“He was moved here today.
Since we have a clinic in the palace, my father thought he would be more comfortable.” She had pictured him languishing in some dingy hospital room. Instead, the royal family had ensured his every comfort.

They entered a room at the end of a long hall.
Room? Her house would fit into the spacious suite. Floor to ceiling windows looked over the stunning landscape.

She saw her father
in the opposite corner and ran towards him.

Sea
n started to get up.

”Stay, Dad.”

“Honor.”

She leaned over
and kissed his cheek. “You look... good.” Her voice raised in surprise. He looked darn good for a man who had suffered a heart attack four days earlier. Relief took the edge off her nervous tension, but Yousef’s presence wouldn’t allow her to relax.

Sean hit the remote for the wide screen television. “Yousef.
Thank you for bringing them.”

He tipped his head.
“My pleasure. It’s been an enlightening trip, to say the least.”

Sean held out his arms. “How’s my little grandson.”

“He’s getting big.” She handed the baby to her father and sat on the couch next to him.

“I can see.” He held Joey above his head and wiggled him in the air. “Have you seen him, Yousef?”

“Barely,” Yousef grumbled. He crossed the room to get a closer look.

Honor’s pulse took a flying leap.

“I’m not sure you should be doing that just yet,” Yousef said.

“You’re right.”
When Sean allowed Yousef to take the baby, she almost screamed.

“How come you never mentioned him, Sean?” he asked as he gently held Joey in his strong arms.

“You never asked.” She wasn’t sure, but she thought she detected a hint of reproach in her father’s voice. At least her father took her side.

Her son,
normally skittish around strangers, didn’t let out a peep. He entertained himself with Youssef’s gold tie clasp. The fact that father and son seemed so comfortable with each other left her feeling strangely unneeded. A completely irrational reaction, she knew, since the infant depended on her for everything.

“I’ll take him,” she said.

“I’ll keep him while you visit with your father.”

“No!”
Her voice shook. She tried to control her rising panic. “He has to be fed soon.”

“I’ll bring him back.”

“He’ll be scared.”

Sean slipped an arm around his daughter.
“They’ll be fine Honor. It is very safe here.”

Ignoring her protest, Yousef left with her son. Numbness overtook her.
What if he didn’t bring Joey back? She sprung from her seat and paced around the room, circling the Persian carpet that covered the marble floors. “Why did you let him take Joey, Dad?”

“So that we can talk.
Do you think he would hurt his own son? Or are you going to deny the amazing resemblance.”

Honor knew her father had his suspicions about Joey’s parentage, but she never admitted the truth.
Her father had worked for the Amir and his family for nearly as long as she’d been alive. She didn’t want to ruin his relationship with them just because she and Yousef had ended their affair.

“That’s not the point.”
She glanced around the lavish room. Satellite television, a quadrophonic music system, and every comfort known to modern man. “Where did he go?”

“Leave him, Honor.”
Sean grabbed her wrist as she started towards the door. “I’m sure he went to see his father.”

“Why?”

He ran a hand through his sun-streaked hair. “He has a lot of explaining to do. Whether you realize it or not, your son is also grandson to the Amir. A royal prince, in fact.”

She let out gasp.
“Are you telling me that they can take Joey away from me?”

“No.” His answer was swift and definite. “I made sure the law rested with the mother. I would never have let them call you if there had been any chance of losing your son. No matter what my circumstances.”

Although she didn’t doubt the sincerity of his words, she found no comfort in them either.
She knew Yousef. If he wanted something, he would find a way around the law. She glanced at her recovering father. No point in exacerbating his condition by bothering him with her worries.

Despite her best intentions to appear calm, Honor had nearly paced a hole in the carpet by the time Yousef returned with her son a half hour later.
He entered the suite with an older man, who by the amazing resemblance could only be his father. She wasn’t sure what to do. Should she bow, drop to her knees, turn and run?

She’d always known Yousef was a prince, but he had never asked her to treat him like one.
His father, however, was another matter. She turned to her own father, and arched her eyebrow in question.

Apparently, her father had a more personal relationship with the family than she realized. The
Amir gave Sean an affectionate pat on the back. They exchange some words in Arabic, and then switched to English when her father made introductions.

“Sean.
Why didn’t you tell me about my grandson?” the Amir chided.

“I didn’t know for sure, until today.”

She could only imagine how calculating that made her sound. If she had been motivated by selfish reasons, she would have made sure Yousef found out about the child so she could collect child support. Nor had she been motivated by spite. Fear, plain and simple had driven her actions. And fear was one emotion Yousef never understood.

The
Amir shot his son an angry glare, and then smiled at her. “I’m sure you had your reasons,” he said to the obvious annoyance of Yousef. “I wish you had arrived under better circumstances, Honor, but now that you’re here, I hope you’ll allow me some time to get to know my first grandchild.”

The
Amir’s graciousness took her by surprise. She felt truly put on the spot. Now that Yousef and his family knew about the baby, they would want a place in his life. She couldn’t rightfully deny them. Especially with Yousef holding onto Joey as if he didn’t plan to let go any time soon. Would they be able to sit down and discuss the matter civilly?