Page 39 of Unknown Royal Baby

He knew Avril wanted the best for their baby, but surely he hadn’t been mistaken, believing he read attraction in her unguarded looks.

No, hecouldn’thave been mistaken. She wanted him, and he’d been her first, her only lover. That gave him an advantage he could use.

But not now. She needed time.

He’d be taking another long, cold shower tonight.

The gravity of her expression quenched any feeling of celebration. She looked more doubtful than convinced, as if unsure she’d done the right thing.

And she doesn’t know the half of the problems facing you.

If she knew about Hafiz and his attempts to undermine Isam, would she still have agreed to marry him? Or would she have been frightened off?

Isam thrust away the thought. With the determination born of confidence in his own abilities, he refused to worry over something that wouldn’t happen. He’d overcome the plot against him.

Hafiz had acquired a taste for royal power and was doing his underhanded best to make people believe Isam’s head injury had permanently affected his judgement and character. Today’s problem with the timetable was part of that attempt. But he wouldn’t succeed.

‘It’s been a big day and you’re no doubt tired.’ While Isam had to fit in several hours of work before he retired for the night. ‘We’ll talk tomorrow in more detail, but I’ll announce our betrothal in the next few days.’

She jumped as if touched by a live wire. ‘Days!’

He held her gaze, watching the gold flecks in her soft brown eyes. She was intriguing. Alluring. And his...almost.

‘It’s better for us to announce our news than for you to become the object of speculation, which will happen now your presence is more widely known.’

She didn’t look convinced and it struck him that Avril Rodgers was the antithesis of a gold-digger. She seemed uninterested in his money and his authority, much less the idea of becoming Queen.

He smiled. Perhaps this was cosmic justice for his casual arrogance as a much younger man. He’d been so certain of his desirability, given the number of women who had chased him, eager for attention and to bask in the reflected glow of his wealth and power.

‘But once our engagement is announced, we can take our time planning the wedding. You’ll have plenty of time to prepare for that.’

The question was whether he could wait that long to claim her.

Two days later, Avril stood in the centre of her sitting room while two seamstresses inspected the fit of her new gown. She couldn’t think of it as simply a dress. This made-to-measure, one-of-a-kind garment was made from rich crimson satin that, when she moved, revealed a sheen of deepest amethyst. She looked from Bethany’s approving grin from where she sat with Maryam on her lap, to the vast, gilt-edged mirror that had been brought into the room.

The woman reflected there bore only a passing resemblance to Avril Rodgers. Her hair had been professionally styled up in a way that looked stunningly elegant. Her equally professional make-up was discreet except for the crimson of her lips that matched the colour of her dress. The make-up artist had done something that emphasised her eyes, making them look...beautiful.

Avril had never felt beautiful before. She had favourite clothes that made her feel good and gave her extra confidence. But this was a transformation.

The red dress had tight three-quarter sleeves and a V neckline. It was demure yet the neckline sat wider than usual on her shoulders, presumably to mirror her fitted bodice that tapered to her surprisingly narrow waist. She hadn’t realised until today that she’d lost the rest of her pregnancy weight. Below her waist the rich satin skimmed her hips then fell in gleaming folds. The skirt was full and feminine and every time she moved the brush of the fabric felt like a caress.

You’re thinking about Isam again. Stop it.

That was difficult, when even the slide of warm water down her body in the shower made her remember his touch.

Avril firmed her lips. Though he’d begun to remember her, he hadn’t remembered intimacy between them, only work. He recalled her as his PA, nothing more.

What did that say about his priorities and her importance in his life?

She knew what it said. She’d never been more than a temporary lover, soon forgotten. She’d known that at the time, he’d been upfront about it. And she’d told herself it didn’t matter. Yetnowit mattered.

Avril remembered every word he’d said to her when he’d come for her answer the other day. He’d praised her quick thinking and pragmatism, qualities he’d wanted in a PA, and now apparently in a wife. There’d been nothing about himwantingher. Nothing personal.

When will you get it through your head? There’s nothing personal between you any more. He’s marrying you out of duty. Because of Maryam.

It had to be enough.

The seamstresses moved back and the designer, a sharp-eyed woman with silvery hair, finally nodded. ‘It is done. I hope you like it, madam.’

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