The Sheikh's Son
KRISTI GOLD
Her sheikh, her prince…her pretend husband?Prince Adan Mehdi isn't normally one to back off from a beautiful woman, but there's something so pure about American heiress Piper McAdams that it seems like the honorable thing to do. Piper believes in his good intentions until his supermodel ex shows up with their baby! Still, Piper agrees to show Adan the parenting ropes and pretend to be his wife until custody with his ex is settled. But playing royal house tests the prince's resolve, and soon things get steamier than either of them imagined. Could a real white wedding be in their future?
“A prince with benefits. That does sound intriguing.”
She tapped her chin and pretended to think.
Adan had resisted her long enough—his last thought before he reeled her into his arms and kissed her. Piper didn’t reject the gesture at all. She didn’t push him away or tense against him. She simply kissed him back like a woman who had not been kissed enough.
Bent on telling her what she was doing to him, he brought his lips to her ear. “If we had no care in the world, and all the privacy we needed, I would lift up your dress, lower your panties and take you right here.”
She pulled back and stared at him with hazy eyes. “I could think of worse things.”
He could think of something much better. “You deserve a bed and champagne and candles our first time.”
“You’re certainly not lacking in confidence.”
Subtlety had never been his strongest suit. “Provided we decide to take that next step.”
“Provided we could actually find the time to do it while adhering to your son’s schedule.”
Right on time, the sound of a crying baby filtered out through the nursery’s open window.
* * *
The Sheikh’s Son is part of the No. 1 bestselling series from Mills & Boon
Desire™—Billionaires and Babies: Powerful men … wrapped around their babies’ little fingers.
Dear Reader (#uf8565343-0ac8-5aeb-9dab-6a11dde3cf5e),
If you’re a romantic at heart, you know the fantasy. You’ve probably heard the setup in a song or two. You see a handsome stranger seated across the room. He gives you more than a passing glance. A conversation ensues, and you assume this chance encounter will only last one night. Dare you hope it could last a lifetime? Probably not, but that doesn’t stop you from wishing the fantasy might lead to a future. Maybe you’ll be one of those lucky couples that meet and marry ten days later, and stay married at least fifty years. Hey, it happens.
Of course, you have to worry that the gorgeous man occupying your time isn’t all he claims to be, even if he is the consummate charmer. And he has to-die-for dimples. But you also sense he has secrets. Major secrets. Heaven forbid if you learn a few other things he failed to mention, like he’s not only a pilot, but an Arabian prince. Of course, there is that baby issue, and as everyone knows, a baby changes everything.
That scenario might sound implausible, but when it comes to a love story—or love in general—anything is possible. And the whole “strangers in the night” fantasy is the basis for this book featuring Adan, the youngest son of the royal Mehdi family, who meets his match in Piper McAdams. He’s a sexy devil who’s determined to prove he’s honorable. She’s a natural beauty with a nurturing soul. Neither have lofty relationship expectations, but they certainly can’t ignore chemistry, or the emotional connection that develops as a result.
I truly hope you enjoy tracking Adan and Piper’s journey as much as I enjoyed writing it. But hang on to your book—it’s going to be a bumpy ride.
Happy reading!
Kristi
The Sheikh’s Son
Kristi Gold
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
KRISTI GOLD has a fondness for beaches, baseball and bridal reality shows. She firmly believes that love has remarkable healing powers and feels very fortunate to be able to weave stories of love and commitment. As a bestselling author, a National Readers’ Choice Award winner and a Romance Writers of America three-time RITA
Award finalist, Kristi has learned that although accolades are wonderful, the most cherished rewards come from networking with readers. She can be reached through her website, at www.kristigold.com (http://www.kristigold.com), or through Facebook.
To Bob … for giving me a quiet place to finish this book, and for showing me that new beginnings do happen when least expected.
Contents
Cover (#u211226be-8cf7-59a7-a8f8-c0a610a35eef)
Introduction (#u95c2a9c5-a99b-5a8b-a031-5ada8f260bee)
Dear Reader (#u87d0dedc-56ec-518b-9192-d4a657524ee5)
Title Page (#u61b2ddbc-82ed-51f7-a4af-65c4abec7f76)
About the Author (#uca316afb-2b0c-53b5-98b6-3e722c5b917c)
Dedication (#u9ffd1b9a-4c4c-582a-bfb1-11acebef621f)
Chapter One (#ulink_34444e38-1724-5146-8b65-31cfc708a4f2)
Chapter Two (#ulink_e6dcca3e-b17d-5f06-81e0-e2047a2d8895)
Chapter Three (#ulink_a75dd958-4770-55c0-bb32-525419824501)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
One (#ulink_1f8b4d7c-2e44-596b-97bb-559aff25b69e)
If a woman wanted a trip to paradise, the gorgeous guy seated at the bar could be just the ticket. And Piper McAdams was more than ready to board that pleasure train.
For the past twenty minutes, she’d been sitting at a corner table in the Chicago hotel lounge, nursing a cosmopolitan while shamelessly studying the stranger’s assets, at least those she could readily see in the dim light. He wore an expensive silk navy suit, a pricey watch on his wrist and his good looks like a badge of honor. His dark brown hair seemed as if it had been intentionally cut in a reckless—albeit sexy—style, but it definitely complemented the slight shading of whiskers framing his mouth. And those dimples. She’d spotted them the first time he smiled. Nothing better than prominent dimples on a man, except maybe...
The questionable thought vaulted into Piper’s brain like a bullet, prompting her to close her eyes and rub her temples as if she had a tremendous headache. She chalked up the reaction to her long-standing membership in the Unintentional Celibacy Club. She wasn’t necessarily a prude, only picky. She certainly wasn’t opposed to taking sex out for a spin before saying, “I do,” in the context of a committed relationship. She simply hadn’t found the right man, though not from the lack of trying. But never, ever in twenty-six years had she considered ending her sexual drought with a complete stranger...until tonight.
The sound of laughter drew her gaze back to said stranger, where the pretty blond bartender leaned toward him, exposing enough cleavage to rival the Grand Canyon. Oddly, he continued to focus on Blondie’s face, until his attention drifted in Piper’s direction.
The moment Piper met his gaze and he grinned, she immediately glanced back to search for a bathroom or another blonde but didn’t find either one. When she regarded him again and found his focus still leveled on her, she started fiddling with her cell phone, pretending to read a nonexistent text.
Great. Just great. He’d caught her staring like a schoolgirl, and she’d just provided a big boost to his ego. He wouldn’t be interested in her, a nondescript, ridiculously average brunette, when he had a tall, well-endowed bombshell at his disposal. He could probably have any willing woman within a thousand-mile radius, and she wouldn’t be even a blip on his masculine radar. She took the mirror out of her purse and did a quick check anyway, making sure her bangs were smooth and her mascara hadn’t gone askew beneath her eyes.
And going to any trouble for a man like him was simply ridiculous. History had taught her that she more or less attracted guys who found her good breeding and trust fund extremely appealing. Nope, Mr. Hunky Stranger would never give her a second look....
“Are you waiting for someone?”
Piper’s heart lurched at the sound of his voice. A very deep, and very British, voice. After she’d recovered enough to sneak a peek, her pulse started to sprint again as she came up close and personal with his incredible eyes. Eyes that were just this shade of brown and remarkably as clear as polished topaz. “Actually, no, I’m not waiting for anyone,” she finally managed to say in a tone that sounded as if she was playing the frog to his prince, not the other way around.
He rested his hand on the back of the opposing chair, a gold signet ring containing a single ruby circling his little finger. “Would you mind if I join you?”
Mind? Did birds molt? “Be my guest.”
After setting his drink on the table, he draped his overcoat on the back of the chair, sat and leaned back as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. Then again, this was probably the norm for him—picking up someone in a bar. For Piper, not so much.
“I’m surprised you’re not keeping company with a man,” he said. “You are much too beautiful to spend Saturday night all alone.”
She was surprised she hadn’t fainted from the impact of his fully formed grin, the sexy half-moon crescent in his chin and the compliment. “Actually, I just left a cocktail party a little while ago.”
He studied her curiously. “In the hotel?”
She took a quick sip of her drink and nearly tipped the glass over when she set it down. “Yes. A party in honor of some obscenely rich sheikh from some obscure country. I faked a headache and left before I had to endure meeting him. That’s probably a good thing, since for the life of me, I can’t remember his name.”
“Prince Mehdi?”
“That’s it.”
“I happened to have left there a few moments ago myself.”
Lovely, Piper. Open mouth, insert stiletto. “Do you know the prince?”
“I’ve known him for a very long time. Since birth, actually.” He topped off the comment with another slow smile.
She swallowed around her mortification while wishing for a giant crevice to open up and swallow her whole. “I’m sorry for insulting your friend. I just have an aversion to overly wealthy men. I’ve never found one who isn’t completely consumed with a sense of entitlement.”
He rimmed his finger around the edge of the clear glass. “Actually, some would say he’s a rather nice fellow.”
She highly doubted that. “Is that your opinion?”
“Yes. Of the three Mehdi brothers, he is probably the most grounded. Definitely the best looking of the whole lot.”
When Piper suddenly realized she’d abandoned her manners, she held out her hand. “I’m Piper McAdams, and you are?”
“Charmed to meet you,” he said as he accepted the handshake, and then slid his thumb over her wrist before letting her go.
She shivered slightly but recovered quickly. “Well, Mr. Charmed, do you have a first name?”
“A.J.”
“No last name?”
“I’d like to preserve a little mystery for the time being. Besides, last names should not be important between friends.”
Clearly he was hiding something, but her suspicious nature couldn’t compete with her attraction to this mysterious stranger. “We’re not exactly friends.”
“I hope to remedy that before night’s end.”
Piper hoped she could survive sitting across from him without going into a feminine free fall. She crossed one leg over the other beneath the table and tugged at the hem of her cocktail dress. “What do you do for a living, A.J.?”
He loosened his tie before lacing his fingers together atop the table. “I am the personal pilot for a rich and somewhat notorious family. They prefer to maintain their privacy.”
A pretty flyboy. Unbelievable. “That must be a huge responsibility.”
“You have no idea,” he said before clearing his throat. “What do you do for a living, Ms. McAdams?”
Nothing she cared to be doing. “Please, call me Piper. Let’s just say I serve as a goodwill ambassador for clients associated with my grandfather’s company. It requires quite a bit of travel and patience.”
He inclined his head and studied her face as if searching for secrets. “McAdams is a Scottish name, and the hint of auburn in your hair and beautiful blue eyes could indicate that lineage. Yet your skin isn’t fair.”
She touched her cheek as if she had no idea she even owned any skin. “My great-grandparents were Colombian on my mother’s side. My father’s family is Scottish through and through. I suppose you could say I’m a perfect mix of both cultures.”
“Colombian and Scottish. A very attractive combination. Do you tan in the summer?”
A sudden image of sitting with him on a beach—sans swimwear—assaulted her. “I do when I find the time to actually go to the beach. I’m not home that often.”
“And where is home?” he asked.
“South Carolina. Charleston, actually.” She refused to reveal that she currently resided in the guesthouse behind her grandparents’ Greek Revival mansion.
He hesitated a moment as if mulling over the information. “Yet you have no Southern accent.”
“It disappeared when I attended an all-female boarding school on the East Coast.”
He leaned forward with obvious interest. “Really? I attended military academy in England.”
That certainly explained his accent. “How long were you there?”
His expression turned suddenly serious. “A bloody lot longer than I should have been.”
She suspected a story existed behind his obvious disdain. “An all-male academy, I take it.”
“Unfortunately, yes. However, the campus was situated not far from a parochial school populated with curious females. We were more than happy to answer that curiosity.”
No real surprise there. “Did you lead the panty raids?”
His smile reappeared as bright as the illuminated beer sign over the bar. “I confess I attempted to raid a few panties in my youth, and received several slaps for my efforts.”
She was consumed by pleasant shivers when she should be shocked. “I highly doubt that was always the case.”
“Not always.” He leaned back again, his grin expanding, his dimples deepening. “Did you fall victim to the questionable antics of boarding-school boys?”
She’d fallen victim to playing the wallflower, though she hadn’t exactly been playing. “My school was located in a fairly remote area, and the rules were extremely strict. The headmistress would probably have shot first and asked questions later if a boy ever dared darken our doorstep.”
His eyes held a hint of amusement. “I’m certain a woman with your looks had no difficulty making up for lost time once you escaped the confines of convention.”
If he only knew how far off the mark he was with that assumption, he’d probably run for the nearest exit. “Let’s just say I’ve had my share of boys darkening my doorstep. Most had last names for first names and more money than sexual prowess, thanks to my grandfather’s insistence I marry within his social circles.”
“Not a decent lover among them?”
Only one, and he’d been far from decent. She imagined A.J. would be a seriously good lover. She’d seriously like to find out. “Since I’m not into kissing and telling, let’s move off that subject. Do you have a significant other?”
“I did have an ‘other’ almost a year ago, but she is no longer significant.”
“Bad breakup?”
“Let’s just say it took a while to convince her we did break up.”
His sour tone told Piper that topic was also off-limits. On to more generic questions. “When I first spotted you at the bar, I was sure you’re Italian. Am I right?”
Luckily his pleasant demeanor returned. “No, but I am quite fond of Italy, and I do know Italian, courtesy of a former teacher.”
“My second guess would be you’re of French descent.”
“Je ne suis pas français, mais je peux bien embrasser à la francaise.”
A sexy devil with devastating dimples and a wry sense of humor—a deadly combination. “I’m sure the parochial girls appreciated your French-kissing expertise. But you didn’t exactly answer my question about your heritage.”
“I am not of French, but I am impressed you speak the language.”
She laid a dramatic palm over her breast and pulled out her best Southern speak. “Why, sugar, we’re not all dumb belles. I know French and German and even a little Japanese.”
“Should you find yourself in need of an Italian translator, I would be happy to accommodate you.”
She would be thrilled if he did more than that. “I’ve never been to Italy but I’ve always wanted to see Rome.”
“You should make that a priority. I personally prefer Naples and the coast....”
As he continued, Piper became completely mesmerized by his mouth, and began to ridiculously fantasize about kissing him. Then her fantasies took major flight as she entertained thoughts of his mouth moving down her body. Slow and warm and, oh, so...
“...large pink salmon walk down the streets texting on their smartphones.”
She rejoined reality following the odd declaration. “I beg your pardon?”
“Clearly I bored you into a near coma while playing the travel guide.”
He’d inadvertently drawn her into a waking sex dream. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “It must be the booze.”
He reached over and without an invitation took a drink from her glass, then set it down with a thud. “That is bloody awful,” he said. “What is in this unpalatable concoction?”
Piper turned her attention to the drink and momentarily became preoccupied with the fact his lips had caressed the glass. And that was probably as close to his lips she would get...unless she took the plunge and turned the good girl to bad. “Basically vodka and cranberry juice, but the bartender made it fairly strong. It’s gone straight to my head.” And so had he.
He pushed his half-full glass toward her. “Try this.”
She picked up the tumbler and studied the amber liquid. “What is it?”
“Twenty-year-old Scotch. Once you’ve sampled it, no other drink will do.”
She would really like to sample him, and if she didn’t stop those thoughts in their tracks, she might derail her common sense. “I’m not sure I should. I don’t want to have to crawl to the hotel room.”
“If you need assistance, I’ll make certain you arrive safely.”
Piper returned his wily smile. “Well, in that case, I suppose I could have a small sip.”
The minute the straight liquor hit her throat, she truly wanted to spit it out. Instead, she swallowed hard and handed the tumbler back to him.
“You don’t like it?” he asked, sounding somewhat insulted.
“Sorry, but it’s just not my cup of tea. Or cup of alcohol, I should say. But then, I can’t claim to have good drinking skills.”
“How are your kissing skills?” Right when she was about to suggest they find out, he straightened, looked away and cleared his throat again. “My apologies. You are too nice a woman to endure my habit of spewing innuendo.”
“Why do you believe I wouldn’t appreciate a little harmless innuendo?”
He streaked a hand over his jaw. “You have a certain innocence about you. Perhaps even purity.”
Here we go again.... “Looks can be deceiving.”
“True, but eyes do not deceive. I’ve noticed your growing discomfort during the course of our conversation.”
“Have you considered my discomfort stems from my attraction to you?” Heavens, she hadn’t really just admitted that, had she? Yes, she had. Her gal pals would be so proud. Her grandfather would lock her up and toss away the key.
“I’m flattered,” he said without taking his gaze from hers. “I must admit I find you very attractive as well, and I would like to know you better. Because of that, I have a request. You are under no obligation to agree, but I hope you will.”
The moment of truth had arrived. Would she be willing to hurl caution to the wind and sleep with him? Would she really take that risk when she knew so little about him, including his last name? Oh, heck yeah. “Ask away.”
When A.J. stood and offered his hand, her heart vaulted into her throat. She held her breath and waited for the ultimate proposition, the word yes lingering on her lips.
“Piper McAdams, would you do me the honor of taking a walk with me?”
* * *
Sheikh Adan Jamal Mehdi did not take women on long walks. He took them to bed. Or he had before he’d taken that bloody vow of celibacy eight months before in order to be taken more seriously by his brothers. A vow that had suddenly lost its appeal.
Yet Piper McAdams wasn’t his usual conquest. She was witty and outgoing, while he normally attracted sophisticated and somewhat cynical women. She was only slightly over five feet tall, he would estimate, were it not for the four-inch heels, when he usually preferred someone closer in height to his six feet two inches. She also had surprisingly long legs and extremely full breasts for someone so small in stature, and he’d had trouble keeping his eyes off those assets for any length of time. The oath of restraint had not silenced his libido in any sense, especially now.
They strolled along the walkway bordering the lake for a good twenty minutes, speaking mostly in generalities, until Adan felt strangely at a loss for words. Conversation had always been his forte, and so had kissing. He thought it best to concentrate on the first. “Do you have any siblings?”
When a gust of wind swirled around them, she pulled her hem-length black cashmere sweater closer to her body. “One. A twin sister whose official name is Sunshine, but she goes by Sunny, for obvious reasons.”
He was immediately struck by the familiar name. “Sunny McAdams, the renowned journalist?”
Her smile showed a certain pride. “That would be her. We’re actually fraternal twins, as if you couldn’t figure that out from our obvious physical differences.”
Yet neither woman lacked in beauty despite the fact one was blond and the other brunette. “Piper and Sunshine are both rather unusual names. Did they hold some significance for your parents?”
Her expression turned somber. “It’s my understanding my mother named Sunny. Unfortunately, we don’t know our father. Actually, we don’t even know who he is, and I’m not sure my mother does, either. You could say we were a thorn in her socialite side. Our grandparents basically raised us for that reason.”
That explained her sudden change in demeanor. But due to his own questions about his heritage, he believed discussing family dynamics in-depth should be avoided at all costs. “You said your mother named your sister. Who named you?”
“My grandfather did,” she said with a smile. “He adores bagpipes.”
Her elevated mood pleased him greatly. “I learned to play the bagpipes at school, but I quickly determined the kilts weren’t at all my style.”
She paused to lean back against the railing. “Tell me something. Is it true that men wear nothing under those kilts?”
“A man needs some reminder that he is still a man while wearing a skirt.” Being so close to this particular woman served to remind him of his manhood at every turn.
She laughed softly. “I suppose that’s true. Why did your parents send you to boarding school?”
He’d asked that question many times, and he’d always received the same answer that he’d never quite believed. “I was an incorrigible lad, or so I’m told, and my father decided I could use the structure a military academy provides.”
“Guess he wasn’t counting on the panty raids.”
Hearing the word panty coming out of her pretty mouth did not help his current predicament in the least. “He never learned about them as far as I know.” His father had never really been close to his youngest son, if the truth were known.
“I’m sure if you’d ask him today,” Piper said, “he’d probably admit he knew everything. Fathers and grandfathers have an uncanny knack of knowing your business.”
He moved to her side, faced the lake and rested his hands on the railing. “My father passed away not long ago. My mother died some time ago.”
“I’m sorry, A.J.,” she said. “I didn’t mean to be so thoughtless.”
“No need to apologize, Piper. You had no way of knowing.” Nor did she know he hailed from Middle Eastern royalty, and that bothered him quite a bit. Yet she had clearly stated she loathed men with fortunes, and he had a sizable one. For that reason, he would continue to keep that information concealed.
Tonight he preferred to be only the pilot, not the prince. “Did you attend university?” he asked, keeping his attention trained on the less-interesting view in order to keep his desire for her in check.
“Yes, I did. In South Carolina. An all-women’s university. Evidently my grandfather believed I couldn’t handle the opposite sex. But since he was footing the bill, I put up with it long enough to get the dreaded business degree.”
He shifted to face her, one elbow braced on the top of the railing. “Since business is apparently not your chosen field of expertise, what would you do if you weren’t playing the ambassador?”
“Art,” she said without the slightest hesitation. “Painting is my passion.”
He knew all about passion, only his involved planes. “Then why not pursue that dream?”
She sighed. “I have several reasons, most having to do with obligation.”
“To your grandfather?”
“Yes.”
Not so unlike his obligation to his legacy. “What about remaining true to yourself and your own happiness, Piper?”
A span of silence passed before she spoke again. “It’s complicated.”
Family dynamics always were, especially in his case.
When he noticed Piper appeared to be shivering, Adan cursed his thoughtlessness. “Obviously you’re cold. Do you wish to return to the hotel now?”
She shook her head. “I’m fine. Really.”
“You’re wearing little more than a glorified sweater, and I suspect your teeth are chattering behind that beautiful mouth of yours.”
Her laugh drew him further into her lair, as did the pleasant scent of her perfume. “Maybe a tad. It’s rather nippy for April.”
“Let me remedy that for you.”
When Adan began to slip the buttons on his overcoat, Piper raised both hands as if to ward him off. “Heavens, no. I don’t want to be responsible for you freezing to death.”
Her smile alone generated enough heat in Adan to fuel half the city of Chicago. “Are you sure? I am accustomed to extreme temperatures.”
“Seriously, I’m okay.”
Without waiting for another protest, he shrugged out of his coat, wrapped it around her shoulders and took a step back. “Better?”
“Much better, but now you’re going to be cold.”
Not likely. Not while she stood before him with her dark hair blowing in the breeze, her bright blue eyes reflecting the light above them and her coral-painted lips enticing him to kiss her. Answering the invitation was a risk he didn’t dare take.
She inhaled deeply then released a slightly broken breath. “I need something else from you, A.J.”
He hoped she meant something warm to drink, a good excuse to retire back inside the hotel before he hurled wisdom to the blustery wind. “What would that be?”
“I need you to kiss me.”
Bloody hell, what could he to say to that? Should he answer “absolutely not” when he wanted to blurt out a resounding yes? He brushed away a strand of hair from her cheek and ran his thumb along her jaw. “I’m not certain that would be a banner idea.” Many times he had heard that phrase, but never coming out of his own mouth.
Disappointment called out from her eyes. “Why not?”
“Because if I kiss you, I would not want to stop with only a kiss.”
She sent him an angel’s smile. “Do you have issues with maintaining control?”
He prided himself on control when it came to flying jets and yes, wooing women. Still, there was something about this particular woman that told him he could end up losing the war he now waged with his libido.
Before he could respond, she wrapped her hand around his neck and lowered his lips to hers. He immediately discovered the angel kissed like the devil, and he liked it. He liked the way she tasted and the silken glide of her tongue against his, and he definitely liked the way she pressed her entire body against him. He would like it better if they were in his hotel bed without the hindrance of clothing. He did not particularly care for the warning bells sounding inside his brain.
Gathering every ounce of strength he still possessed, Adan pulled away and stepped back before he did something they might both regret. The dejected look on Piper’s face gave him pause, and the urge to come up with some viable excuse. “You, lovely lady, are too much of a temptation for even the most controlled man.”
Her expression brightened. “No one has ever accused me of that before.”
“Apparently you have not been with anyone who appreciates your finer points.”
Now she looked somewhat coy. “But you appreciate them?”
If she could see the evidence of his appreciation, she would not have posed the question. “I more than appreciate them, as I also appreciate and respect you. Therefore I am going to escort you back to the hotel and bid you good night.” Or crush his determination to refrain from sex for three more months.
Piper pretended to pout. “But the night is still young, and I’m still cold.”
“All the more reason to deliver you safely inside the hotel.”
“Your room or mine?”
She seemed determined to make this incredibly hard on him...in every sense of the word. “Your room, and then I will retire to mine.”
She sighed. “All right, if that’s what you really want.”
If he said that, he would be lying. “It’s not a question of if I want you. The question is, would it be wise to continue this?”
“And your answer?”
“Completely unwise.”
“Maybe we should ignore wisdom and do what comes naturally. We’re both of age and free to do as we please, so why not take advantage of the opportunity?”
Just as he opened his mouth to issue another unenthusiastic argument, she kissed him again. Deeper this time, more insistent. He slid his hand down her back, cupped her bottom and brought her up against his erection, hoping to discourage her. The plan failed. She made a move with her hips and sent him so close to the edge that he considered lifting her skirt, lowering his pants and dispensing with all propriety.
The last thread of his coveted self-control prevented him from acting on his desire. He refused to succumb to animal instinct. He could not discard the vow, or his common sense, for one night of unbridled passion with someone he was clearly deceiving. He would remain strong, stay grounded, ignore the fact that he had a beautiful, sensual woman at his disposal and...
Whom was he attempting to fool? “Let’s retire to my room.”
Two (#ulink_ae52a9c7-9a4b-5479-9be4-d704352a4db8)
She had always strived to be the good twin. Straight as an arrow. Boring as hell. Never before had she demonstrated such assertiveness toward a man.
Now remarkably Piper found herself alone in an elevator with that man, with only one goal in mind—ending her self-imposed celibacy in a virtual stranger’s hotel room. Oddly A.J. kept his distance and remained silent as they traveled all the way to the top floor. After the doors sighed open and they stepped out of the car, she expected to see a corridor containing a line of rooms. Instead she noticed only one double mahogany door flanked by two massive, stoic guards. If a pilot warranted this much security, then he must work for an incredibly powerful family or some high-ranking politician.
A.J. lightly clasped her elbow to guide her forward before stopping at the entry to mutter something in what she assumed to be Arabic. One of the men turned immediately, slid a card key in the lock and opened the doors. As soon as they were safely sequestered inside, Piper took a moment to survey the area—exquisite dark wood floors, towering windows revealing the Chicago skyline, even a baby grand piano in the corner. An opulent penthouse designed for the rich and infamous. Her current companion was one lucky employee.
Piper started to comment on that very thing, but her words never made it to her open mouth. A.J. did, and the kiss he gave her had the impact of a firebomb. Somehow she ended up with her back against one wall with A.J. pressed against her, her face bracketed in his palms. When he shrugged the sweater from her shoulders, slipped it away and tossed it behind him, her heart rate began to run amok. Any concerns flittered away on the heels of a heat she’d never felt before with any man. But this man knew what he was doing, right down to the way he brushed kisses along the line of her jaw and her neck before he brought his mouth to her ear. “The bedroom,” he whispered. “Now.”
Okay, that would be the next step. A daring step. A step Piper had never taken with a man she barely knew. “Lead the way.”
No sooner had she said it than he clasped her hand and guided her toward another closed door where he paused to kiss her again. When his palms roved along her rib cage before they came to rest on her bottom, she found it very difficult to breathe.
He suddenly broke all contact and took a step back. “There is something I need to say before we go any further.”
Piper managed to break through the sensual fog and back into reality. “You’re married.”
“Of course not.”
That left only one scenario as far as she could see. “If you’re worried that I’m making some alcohol-induced decision, you’re wrong. Yes, I’ve had a couple of drinks, but I’m not drunk. And yes, this strangers-in-the night scenario is a first for me. In fact, I’ve only had one lover, and even calling him that is a stretch.”
He seemed totally confused by that concept. “How is that possible for such an appealing woman?”
“Believe me, it is possible because I’m very particular.”
“I am flattered, yet I still question whether you are giving this enough thought.”
She didn’t want to think, only do. “Look, in a perfect world, I’d suggest we spend a few days getting to know each other before we take this step. But unfortunately I was informed only a few hours ago that I’m traveling to some obscure Middle Eastern country to schmooze with sheikhs for the sake of trying to win a water conservation contract.”
His expression went stone-cold serious. “Are you referring to the Mehdis?”
“Yes, and I realize they’re your friends, but—”
“We need to talk.”
That meant only one thing—party’s over. “All right,” she muttered, unable to mask the disappointment in her voice.
A.J. led her to the white sofa set out in the middle of the room. After they settled on the cushions side by side, he took both her hands into his. “You are one of the most beautiful, intelligent and intriguing women I have met in a very long time. Quite simply, you’re special. For that reason, I do not want to take advantage of you.”
Take advantage of me, dammit, she wanted to say, but opted for a more subtle debate. “I’m not special at all. However, I’m sure you normally require an experienced partner, and if it’s that’s your concern, I’m much more adventurous than I seem. I think my being in your hotel room is a sure sign of that.”
He released her hands and leaned back. “As much as I would like to find out, I’d prefer not to complicate matters, which leads me to what I need to tell you. I pilot the Mehdis’ plane.”
Her eyes widened from sheer shock. “Why didn’t you tell me this in the beginning?”
“It didn’t matter until you said you’d be working with them. If the king learned I was bedding a prospective client, he would, simply put, go ballistic.”
Figured. “Leave it to some well-heeled royal to spoil my good time. That’s why I have no use for that kind of man.”
His gaze wandered away. “He would be justified in his condemnation. I have a responsibility to the Mehdis and a need to be taken seriously by them.”
“At all costs?”
“I’m afraid that is the case at this point in time.”
In other words, thanks but no thanks, or at least that was what Piper heard. Feeling somewhat humiliated, she came to her feet. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you, A.J. Thank you for a very lovely and eye-opening evening.”
Before she had a meltdown, Piper headed away, only to be stopped by A.J. bracing her shoulders from behind before she could open the door.
He turned her to face him, his expression extremely solemn. “Piper, there are two things you must know about me. First, I have been taught that a man is only as good as his honor, and I am trying to honor you, even if I would like to take that black dress off you and carry you to my bed. Despite my concerns about my job, you also deserve the utmost respect and regard. And once you have time to consider my decision, you will thank me for saving you from a possible mistake.”
For some reason that made Piper a little miffed. “Do you honestly believe I don’t know my own mind?”
“I believe you’re too trusting.”
Now she was just plain mad. “I’m an adult, A.J., not some naive adolescent. And in case you’re worried, I’m not a prude, I’m picky. Last, the only mistake I made tonight was thinking you could be the man who would be worth the wait. Obviously I was wrong.”
He softly touched her face. “You are not wrong. When it comes to us—” he twined their fingers together, sending a message that wasn’t lost on Piper “—making love, I assure you that would definitely be worth the wait. And that is what I’m proposing, waiting until we have the opportunity to know each other while you are in Bajul.”
Piper’s anger almost disappeared. Almost. “That would depend on whether you’re everything you seem to be, because I believe honesty and honor go hand in hand. Now, what was the second thing you wanted me to know?”
A strange look passed over his face. “I still believe in chivalry. Will you allow me to walk you to your room?”
She shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m a big girl and I can find my way.”
“As you wish.” After he escorted her into the corridor, A.J. executed a slight bow. “If I don’t see you tomorrow on the plane, Ms. McAdams, then I will make it a point to seek you out in Bajul.”
* * *
She boarded the extremely large and lavish private plane less than five minutes before their scheduled departure, due to the rush-hour traffic and an apathetic cabdriver. When the five-man survey crew settled into the vacant beige leather seats at the front of the plane, she walked the aisle past what she assumed to be staff and press members. Despite the size of the plane, it appeared the back half had been cordoned off to passengers. Most likely it held a series of conference rooms and perhaps even living quarters. She might ask A.J. to give her the grand tour, provided she actually encountered him before they landed.
She paused in the aisle to address a middle-aged, professor-like man with sparse graying hair, wire-rimmed glasses and kind brown eyes. Hopefully he spoke English, and that the last remaining spot was available. “Is this seat taken?”
“It is reserved for Miss McAdams,” he replied. “Is that you?”
Fortunately a language barrier wouldn’t exist during the lengthy flight. “Yes, that’s me.”
“Then the seat is yours.”
After sliding in next to the man and settling her red tote at her feet, she shifted toward him and stuck out her hand. “Hello, I’m Piper McAdams. I’m traveling to Bajul with the GLM engineers.”
He gave her hand a soft shake. “Mr. Deeb.”
Not a lot to go on there. Time for a fishing expedition. “Are you a friend of the sheikh’s?”
“I am serving as his attaché on this trip.”
“I’m sure that’s a very interesting duty.”
He pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. “Managing Prince Adan’s schedule can be challenging at times, evidenced by his absence at the moment.”
A good thing, since she might have missed the flight if the guy had been punctual. “He has a habit of being late, does he?”
“He occasionally suffers from tardiness, among other things.”
Piper wanted him to define “other things” but then she noticed a commotion toward the front of the plane. Assuming the mysterious monarch had finally arrived, she came to her feet along with the rest of the passengers and leaned slightly into the aisle to catch a glimpse. She spotted only A.J. dressed in a crisp, white shirt covered by a navy blue suit emblazoned with gold military-like insignias. Not a sheikh in sight.
She regarded Mr. Deeb again and lowered her voice. “He must be some kind of pilot to earn that reception.”
He cleared his throat and glanced away. “Yes, he is quite the aviator.”
After everyone settled into their seats, Piper followed suit, well aware that her pulse had unwittingly picked up speed as she noticed A.J. stopping in the aisle to speak to one man. A man who oddly addressed the pilot as Prince Adan.
Reality soon dawned, along with the sense that she might have been completely betrayed by blind faith. She turned a frown on Mr. Deeb. “He’s not the plane’s pilot, is he?”
Again the man refused to look at her directly. “Yes, he is the pilot, as well as commander in chief of Bajul’s armed forces.”
“And a Mehdi?”
Deeb gave her a contrite look. “The third Mehdi son in line to inherit the throne.”
And a major liar, Piper realized as she watched the sheikh disappear into the cockpit. She thanked her lucky stars she hadn’t made the mistake of climbing into bed with him. Then again, he’d been the one to put an end to that with his fake concerns over being only a royal employee, not a royal prince. And all that talk of honor. Honorable men didn’t deceive unsuspecting women about their identities.
Fuming over the duplicity, Piper pulled a fashion magazine from her bag and flipped through the pages with a vengeance during takeoff. She didn’t have to deal with the situation now, or ever for that matter. She didn’t have to spend even one minute with A.J. or Adan or whatever his name was. He would be nothing more to her than a cute meet that had gone nowhere, a precautionary tale in the book of her life, a man she would endeavor to immediately forget....
“May I have a moment with you in the aft lounge, Ms. McAdams?”
She glanced up and immediately took in A.J.’s damnable dimples and his sexy mouth before visually traveling to his remarkable dark eyes. “Is the plane flying itself, Prince Mehdi?”
He tried on a contrite look. “I have turned the controls over to the copilot for the time being so we can converse.”
And if she spent one second alone with him, she might find herself caught up in his lair once more. “I do believe the seat belt sign is still on, and that means it’s not safe to move about the cabin.”
Of course said sign picked that moment to ding and dim, robbing her of any excuse to avoid this confrontation. Nevertheless, he happened to be resident royalty, not to mention he could hold the power to grant—or reject—her grandfather’s bid. For that reason, she shoved the magazine back into the carry-on and slid out of the seat, putting her in very close proximity to the fibbing prince. “After you,” she said in a tone that was borderline irritable, to say the least.
As the princely pilot started toward the rear of the plane, Piper followed behind him with her eyes lowered in an attempt to avoid the two female attendants’ curious stares. He paused to open a sliding frosted-glass door and gestured her forward into a narrow corridor before he showed her into a lounge containing dark brown leather furniture.
“Make yourself comfortable,” A.J. said as he closed the sliding door behind her.
Comfortable? Ha! Piper chose the lone chair to avoid inadvertent physical contact, while the sneaky sheikh settled on the opposing sofa.
He draped his arm casually over the back cushions and smiled. “Have you enjoyed your flight so far?”
In an effort to demonstrate some decorum, she bit back the harsh words clamoring to come out of her mouth. “Since it’s been less than fifteen minutes into the flight, I prefer to reserve judgment until landing.”
He gave her a lingering once-over. “You look very beautiful today, Piper.”
She tugged the hem of her black coatdress down to the top of her knees. Unfortunately she couldn’t convert the open collar to a turtleneck. “Thank you, but if you believe compliments will put you in the clear after you lied to me, think again.”
“I am being completely sincere in my admiration.”
“Forgive me if I question your sincerity. And by the way, what am I supposed to call you?”
“What would you like to call me?”
He’d walked right into that one. “Jackass?”
He had the audacity to grin. “I believe I have been called that before.”
She had the utterly stupid urge to kiss that grin off his face. “I don’t doubt that a bit. And where did you come up with A.J.?”
“My given name is Adan Jamal. My classmates called me A.J., but as an adult I do prefer Adan.”
“I would have preferred you explain all of this to me last night.”
His expression turned serious. “When I discovered you were involved with the water project, I was completely thrown off-kilter.”
Not a valid excuse, in her opinion. “And after learning that, did you seriously believe you could hide your identity from me indefinitely?”
He sighed. “No. I had hoped to speak with you before takeoff. Unfortunately, traffic detained our driver on the way to the airport and I had to adhere to the original flight plan.”
She couldn’t reject that defense when she’d experienced the same delays. Still... “You still should have told me before I left your room, at the very least.”
He leaned forward, draped his elbows on his parted knees and studied the carpeted floor. “Do you know what it’s like to be judged by your station in life even though it has nothing to do with who you really are?”
Actually, she did—the rich girl born to a spoiled, partying socialite and an unknown father. “I can relate to that in some ways.”
He finally raised his gaze to hers. “Last night, I wanted you to see me as an average man, not a monarch.”
There was absolutely nothing average about him. “I don’t base my opinions on a person’s social status.”
He straightened and streaked a palm over his shadowed jaw. “I believe I recall you mentioning you have an aversion to wealthy men, and specifically, the Mehdis. Is that not so?”
Darned if he wasn’t right. “Okay, yes, I might have said that. My apologies for making generalizations.”
“And I apologize for deceiving you. I promise it will not happen again, as soon as I tell you something else I omitted last evening.”
Just when she thought she might be able to trust him. “I’m listening.”
“I’ve been celibate since my eldest brother’s wedding.”
“When was that?” she asked around her surprise.
“Eight months ago and approximately two months following the dissolution of my relationship.”
Piper couldn’t imagine such a vital, viral man could go that long without sex. “Your breakup must have been really devastating.”
“Not exactly,” he said. “My brothers have always seen me as being less than serious when it comes to my role in the family. I decided to prove to them that my entire life does not revolve around seeking the next conquest.”
She so wanted to believe him, yet wasn’t certain she could. “I admire your resolve, but I’m still having a hard time with the trust issue where you’re concerned.”
Adan came to his feet, crossed the small space between them, clasped her hands and pulled her off the chair. “I must see to my responsibility now as captain of this ship. But before I go, I have a request.”
Who knew what that might entail? “Go ahead.”
“If you will allow me to serve as your personal host in Bajul, I will prove to you that I am not only a man of my word, but I am an honorable man.”
That remained to be seen. But right then, when Adan Mehdi looked at her as if she deserved his utmost attention, she couldn’t manufacture one reason to refuse his hospitality. And if she didn’t keep a cool head, she worried he could convince her of anything.
* * *
“Ms. Thorpe is here to see you, Emir.”
Great. He’d barely walked into the palace with Piper at his side only to be greeted by an unwelcome visit from his past in the form of a persistent, self-absorbed ex-paramour.
The entire travel party scattered like rats on a sinking ship, including the turncoat Deeb. Only the messenger of doom remained, an extremely perplexed look splashed across his bearded face. “Did you know she was coming, Abdul?”
The man revealed his discomfort by wringing his hands. “No, Emir. I attempted to ask her to return tomorrow, yet she would not hear of it. She is currently in the study with...uh...those who accompanied her. It would be in your best interest to speak with her.”
Leave it to Talia to bring an entourage. And if she created a scene, he would never earn Piper’s trust. Therefore he had to find a way to keep the two women separated.
With that in mind, Adan turned to Piper and gestured toward the towering staircase leading to the upper floors. “This shouldn’t take too long, Ms. McAdams. In the meantime, Abdul will show you to your quarters and I will meet you shortly in the third-floor sitting room. Abdul, put her things in the suite across from mine.”
After Abdul picked up her luggage, she didn’t make a move other than to give Adan a decidedly suspicious stare. “I have a room reserved at the inn in the village, so it’s best I keep those arrangements, Your Highness,” she said, prompting the houseman to set the bags back down.
He had to encourage her to stay at the palace, and he had limited time to do so. After signaling Abdul to gather the bags again, he regarded Piper. “The inn is small and will not allow you to have what you need in terms of your business. They currently do not have internet access or an office center. We have all that here.”
Abdul bent slightly as if prepared to return the luggage to the floor while Adan tamped down his impatience over Piper’s delay in responding. “I suppose you have a point,” she finally said. “As long as it’s not an inconvenience for your staff.”
He would be inconvenienced if he didn’t have her nearby, and in deep trouble if the old girlfriend suddenly made an appearance. “I assure you, the staff is accustomed to guests. So if you will follow Abdul—”
“It’s about time you finally showed up, you inconsiderate arse.”
Adan froze like an iceberg at the sound of the familiar voice. Trouble had definitely arrived.
He could pretend he hadn’t heard her, or he could face the unavoidable confrontation like a man. Taking the second—and least palatable—option, he turned to discover Talia Thorpe standing at the entry to the hallway wearing a chic white dress, hands propped on her narrow hips and her green eyes alight with fury.
A compliment should help to diffuse the possible verbal bloodbath. Or so he hoped. “You’re looking well, Talia.”
She rolled her eyes. “Why haven’t you returned my emails or calls? I’ve sent you at least a hundred messages over the past month alone.”
He ventured a fast glance at Piper, who appeared to be somewhat taken aback, and rightfully so. “Might I remind you, Talia, we broke off our relationship a year ago.”
Talia tossed a lock of her long platinum hair back over one shoulder. “You broke it off, and it’s been ten months. If you hadn’t ignored me, I wouldn’t have been forced to disrupt my schedule and make this beastly trip.”
When he’d told her they were done after their on-and-off six-year relationship, he’d meant it. “Perhaps we should continue this conversation somewhere more private.”
She flipped a manicured hand in Piper’s direction. “Are you worried your new chicky will be exposed to all the dirty details?”
As a matter of fact... “For your information, Ms. McAdams is here on business.”
“Well, so am I,” Talia said. “Serious business.”
He wouldn’t be at all surprised if she tried to sue him over the breakup. “I find that somewhat difficult to believe, Talia, yet I am curious. What business of yours would concern me?”
She turned around and clapped her hands. “Bridget, you may come in now and bring it with you.”
Talia went through personal assistants as frequently as she went through money, so Adan wasn’t surprised when he didn’t recognize the name. He was mildly concerned over the “it” comment. But he was nothing less than astounded when the meek-looking plump brunette strolled into the room...gripping a baby carrier. Myriad concerns began rushing through his mind. Unthinkable possibilities. Unimaginable scenarios.
Yet when Talia took the carrier and turned it around, and he saw the sleeping baby with the tiny round face and the black cap of hair, he would swear his heart skipped several beats, and he began to sweat.
“Adan, meet Samuel, your new son.”
Three (#ulink_ed55d790-0c2b-5834-9786-3d400243f419)
Piper wouldn’t be a bit surprised if Adan Mehdi keeled over from shock. Instead, he assumed a rigid posture and a stern expression, hands fisted at his sides. “Talia, if you believe I will simply take you at your word about this, you are completely daft.”
The woman swept her manicured hand toward the infant. “Just look at him, Adan. You can’t deny he’s yours. Dark hair and golden skin. He even has your dimples. Despite all that, I do have proof in the form of a DNA test.”
“How did you get my bloody DNA?” he asked.
Talia crossed her arms beneath her breasts and lifted her chin. “It’s all over my Paris flat, Adan. And you happened to leave your toothbrush the night you tossed me to the gutter.”
The sheikh’s defenses seemed to disappear right before Piper’s eyes. “We were always careful to prevent pregnancy.”
Talia tapped her chin. “I do recall that one night last year in Milan—”
“That was one blasted night, Talia,” he replied, his tone fraught with anger.
“Once was quite enough.” The woman handed the carrier off to a bewildered Bridget. “Anyway, I have a photo shoot in a remote location in Tasmania, which will give you an opportunity to get to know your kid. We’ll discuss the custody particulars when I get back next month.”
Adan narrowed his eyes in a menacing glare. “We will discuss this immediately.”
Talia checked her watch. “My flight leaves in less than an hour.”
“You will not take one step out this door until we talk,” Adan demanded. “Into the study. Now.”
After the sheikh and his former girlfriend exited, Piper looked around to find Abdul had disappeared, leaving her in a quandary over what to do next. She occupied her time by surveying the beige stone walls, the ornate gold statues and the unending staircase leading to the top of the massive structure. A baby’s cry would definitely echo loudly throughout the building.
With that in mind, Piper sought out Bridget, who’d taken a seat on the gold brocade cushioned bench set against the wall, the carrier at her feet. She smiled at the woman, who managed a slight, albeit shaky return of the gesture. But when the baby began to fuss, the presumed au pair looked completely alarmed.
Not good. Piper launched into action, crossed to the carrier, unfolded the yellow blanket, picked up the crying infant and held him against her shoulder. After he quieted, she regarded the wide-eyed Bridget. “You aren’t a nanny, are you?”
“No, I am not,” she finally responded, her tone hinting at a slight British accent and a lot of disdain. “I’m Talia’s personal assistant. The last nanny quit yesterday when she learned she’d have to make the trip here. Traveling with Talia isn’t pleasant under normal circumstances, let alone with a child in tow.”
Piper claimed the vacant spot on the bench, laid the swaddled baby in the crook of her arm and studied his cherub face. “You’re beautiful, little man, although you don’t look like a Samuel. Sam fits you better.”
“Don’t let Talia hear you call him that,” Bridget warned. “She fired the first nanny over that very thing.”
That didn’t exactly surprise Piper after what she’d witnessed upon meeting the model. “Then she’s very protective of him, huh?”
Bridget frowned. “Not really. She hasn’t held him more than a handful of times since his birth.”
Piper couldn’t contain her contempt, a product of her own experience. “Good mothers hold and care for their babies. They certainly don’t foist their children off on someone else.”
Bridget reached over and touched the infant’s arm. “You’re right, but unfortunately Talia isn’t maternal. She’s consumed by her modeling career and staying in shape. All I’ve heard since his birth is how hard she’s had to work to regain her figure. I truly believe that’s why she waited four weeks to bring the baby here.”
Vanity, thy name is Talia. She was beginning to like her less and less. “At least now he’ll have the opportunity to bond with his father.”
“I am not prepared to raise a child, Talia.”
So much for bonding, Piper thought at the sound of the sheikh’s irritated tone.
The self-centered supermodel breezed into the room with one impatient prince following close on her heels. “At least you didn’t have to suffer through thirteen hours of horrible labor last month. And just imagine pushing a soccer ball out your todger. Besides, you have a whole staff to assist you while I had to hire several useless nannies over the past month. Good help is hard to find.”
“Perhaps that’s because you have no idea how to treat the help,” Adan muttered as he strode into the vestibule.
Talia turned and set an oversize light blue bag next to the carrier, affording Piper only a cursory glance. “Bridget gave him a bottle three hours ago, so no doubt he’ll be hungry again very soon. There’s enough nappies, bottles and cans of formula in here to get you by until tomorrow, plus a few outfits. After that, you’re on your own. Let’s go, Bridget.”
Without giving the baby even a passing glance, much less a kiss goodbye, Talia headed for the door with poor Bridget cowering behind her. Piper practically bit a hole in her tongue against the urge to deliver a seething diatribe aimed at the woman’s disregard for her child. Instead, she shifted Sam back to her shoulder and remained silent as Adan followed the two women to the entry and accompanied them out the door.
When the baby began to whimper again, Piper assumed he was probably in need of another bottle. Fortunately, feeding an infant wasn’t an issue, even if it had been a while since her teenage babysitting days—the one job her grandparents had allowed her to accept, but only in a limited capacity, and exclusively for those parents who’d run in their social circle.
Piper laid Sam vertically in her lap, rummaged through the bag, withdrew a bottle and uncapped it. He took the nipple without hesitation and suckled with great enthusiasm, complete with soft, yummy noises that brought about her smile. After he drained the formula in record time, she set the empty bottle beside her, returned him to her shoulder and rubbed his back to successfully burp him. Then she cradled him in the crook of her arm and stroked his cotton-soft cheek. For a time he stared at her with an unfocused gaze before planting his right thumb in his rosebud mouth.
As his eyes drifted closed, Piper experienced sheer empathy for this precious little boy. She couldn’t fathom how anyone would reject such a gift. Couldn’t imagine how any mother worth her salt would simply drop off her child with a man who hadn’t even known he had a son. Then again, why should she be surprised? Her very own mother had abandoned her and Sunny with their grandparents shortly after their birth. As far as she was concerned, women like Talia Thorpe and Millicent McAdams should not be allowed to procreate.
Despite her poor maternal example, Piper had always dreamed of having children of her own. So far she hadn’t found a suitable candidate to father her future offspring, and she certainly wasn’t going to settle for anything less than a loving relationship with a man who had the same wants and desires. A gentle, caring man. Grounded. Settled...
“I am officially moving to Antarctica.”
After the declaration, Adan strode past Piper and disappeared into the nearby corridor adjacent to the towering staircase. Again. Granted, she enjoyed holding baby Sam, but she hadn’t signed on to be the royal nursemaid. And apparently the sheikh hadn’t signed up for fatherhood, either.
A few moments passed before Adan returned with a petite, attractive older woman wearing an impeccable navy tailored blazer and skirt, her salt-and-pepper hair styled in a neat bob. Yet when she caught sight of Piper and the baby, her pleasant demeanor melted into obvious confusion. “May I help you, miss?”
“This is Piper McAdams,” Adan said. “She has accompanied the survey crew, and while she’s here, she will be my guest. Piper, this is Elena Battelli, my former governess who now governs the entire household.”
Piper came to her feet and smiled. “It’s very nice to meet you.”
“And I, you.” Elena leaned over and studied the baby. “What a lovely child you have. Boy or girl?”
“He’s Talia’s child,” Adan interjected before Piper had a chance to respond.
Elena’s initial shock melted into an acid look. “Is that dreadful woman here?”
“She has departed for now,” Adan said. “And she left this infant in my charge before she left the premises.”
Now the governess appeared completely appalled. “She expects you to care for her child?”
The sheikh looked somewhat contrite before he regained his commanding demeanor. “He is mine, Elena.”
Piper really wanted to take the baby and bail before the verbal fireworks began. “If you two would like some privacy—”
“You have no reason to leave,” Adan said. “You have already witnessed the worst of the situation.”
Elena’s features turned as stern as a practiced headmistress. “How long have you known about this child, cara? And how can you be certain that woman is being truthful?”
Adan streaked a palm over his neck. “I didn’t know until today, and she provided the test results that prove I am his father. Now, before you begin the lecture, I have a few things I need you to do.”
The woman straightened her shoulders and stared at him. “This is your bed, Adan Mehdi, and you will lie in it. So if you expect me to raise your son—”
“I do not expect that at all,” Adan replied. “In fact, I intend to take complete control over his care until his mother returns.”
Provided the missing model did come back, Piper’s major concern. But at the moment, she had a more pressing issue that needed to be addressed. “Do you think you might like to hold your son first, Your Highness?”
Uncertainty called out from Adan’s brown eyes as he slowly approached her. “I suppose that would be the most logical next step.”
Piper turned the baby around and placed him in his father’s arms. “I promise he’s not going to break,” she added when she noted his slight look of concern.
While the sheikh held his son for the first time, the former governess stood next to him, one hand resting on Adan’s shoulder. “He looks exactly like you did at his age, cara,” she said in a reverent tone. “Such a bella baby. Does he have a name?”
“Sam,” Piper chimed in without thought. “Actually, Samuel, but I think he looks more like a Sam. Or maybe Sammy.” When she noticed Adan’s disapproving glance, she amended that decision. “Sammy definitely doesn’t work. Of course, what you call him is solely up to you.”
“He will eventually be renamed in accordance with tradition,” Adan said, sounding very authoritative and princely. “Right now I must see to his comfort, including finding him a suitable crib.”
“The nursery is still in order,” Elena said. “And since your brother and Madison are currently residing at their home in the States, you may use it. We still have several bottles in the pantry, and a few items in the cupboard in the nursery, but I’m afraid we have no diapers or formula since the twins have moved past that stage. But the cribs are still there and fully equipped with blankets and such.”
Adan appeared somewhat perplexed. “The nursery is down the hall from my quarters. I will not be able to hear him if he needs me during the night.”
The governess took the baby without permission, and without protest, from the fledgling father, a sure sign of her close bond with the youngest Mehdi son. “There is something known as a baby monitor, cara. You will be able to see and hear him at any time when you are in your suite.”
“Have the monitor set up in my room,” he said. “I will see to the supplies tomorrow. You mentioned Zain is in Los Angeles, but you have not said anything about Rafiq.”
Rafiq Mehdi, the reigning king of Bajul, and reportedly a hard case, according to her grandfather. Piper would buy tickets to see his reaction to the current scandal. Then again, maybe not. She’d had enough drama for one day.
Elena continued to stare at the baby with the reverence of a grandmother. “Rafiq has been with his wife at the resort for the past week. They will not be returning for two more days.”
Adan shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on an ornately carved coat tree in the vestibule before returning to them. “Make certain Rafiq knows nothing about this until I have the opportunity to speak with him.”
When she recognized a serious problem with that request, Piper decided to add her two cents. “Can you trust the household staff to keep this quiet?”
“The staff knows to exercise complete confidentially,” Elena said.
“Or suffer the consequences,” Adan added gruffly before turning to the governess. “Please have Abdul deliver the monitor and our bags to our rooms, and watch him while I show Ms. McAdams to her quarters.”
Elena kissed the baby’s forehead. “I have no reason to watch Abdul, cara. I trust he’ll do as he’s told.”
After Adan muttered something in Arabic that didn’t sound exactly pleasant, Piper stifled a laugh and considered an offer. “I have no problem watching the baby while you settle in, Your Highness.”
“That will not be necessary, Ms. McAdams,” Elena said as she handed the baby back to Adan. “If you are bent on being a good father to your son, then you should begin immediately.”
Adan looked slightly panicked. “But—”
“No buts, Adan Mehdi.” The governess snatched the empty bottle from the bench before addressing Piper again. “Ms. McAdams, it was certainly a pleasure to meet you, even under such unusual circumstances. I shall go instruct Abdul while the royal pilot becomes accustomed to paternity. Please let me know if you need any assistance with the boy.”
Piper returned her smile. “Luckily I babysat quite a few times in my youth, so we’ll be fine.”
“Actually, I was referring to my former charge, the prince.”
The two women shared a laugh before Elena walked away, leaving Piper alone with Adan and his son.
“She treats me as if I still wear knickers,” he said, frustration evident in his tone.
Piper moved to his side and peeked at the still sleeping infant. “Evidently the two of you are very close, and I honestly believe she has your best interests at heart.”
He released a rough sigh. “I suppose she does, at that. Now, if you’re ready, I shall escort you to your room before I settle the baby into the nursery.”
Piper almost insisted on returning to the inn, yet when she saw a trace of doubt in Adan’s eyes, the touch of awkwardness as he held his child, the sympathy bug bit her. “Why don’t we put him in the carrier while we climb the stairs?”
“No need,” he said. “If you’ll be so kind as to gather his things, I’ll show you to the private elevator.”
Piper couldn’t help but smile over Adan’s decision not to relinquish his son. Maybe she’d underestimated his ability to move into his new role after all.
* * *
He had untold riches at his disposal. He could fly jets at warp speed, navigate treacherous mountain slopes on skis and answer a woman’s most secret fantasies with little effort. Yet he had no idea what to do with an infant.
As he studied the child in his arms, Adan’s own paternal experience fueled his drive to succeed in this endeavor. He’d often wondered if the man who’d claimed him—and in many ways discarded him—had actually been his biological father. That question had always haunted him and always would. He vowed to give his son everything he would ever need, including his undivided attention.
His son. He’d never believed he would be in this position at this point in his life. Yet he was, and he had no one else to blame for his carelessness. No one to truly count on but himself.
“Is this where we get off, Your Highness?”
Until Piper had spoken, he hadn’t noticed the car had come to a stop. “It is.” After he moved through the open doors, he faced her in the corridor. “I respectfully request you call me Adan when we’re in private.”
She shifted the tote’s strap to her shoulder. “All right, as long as you don’t mind me referring to your son as Sam.”
Clearly the woman was a born negotiator. “If that pleases you, I agree. I, however, will call him Samuel until he is renamed.”
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